Michael Vey Michael Novels & Stories

The driver asked, looking at what was taking place. “Oh. What’s your name?” Blake asked, looking at his new driver since Helen became his woman and was now in the Inner World. “I’m ah, Michael, sir,” Michael said, still looking at what was taking place with shock. “Okay, Michael. You’ve heard of all the super people on the Tubber recently, right?” Blake asked if he was aware, then this should be easy to explain. “All those videos that were seen? Yeah, I’ve seen them but haven’t placed much stock in them. Why?” Michael asked.

Michael just witness me daydreaming about his god-like body. "Um, I heard from Lincoln that you just captured a Raven," I said to Michael trying to divert our conversation. Michael stopped walking and looked at me with a sly smirk on his lips as if he's proud that he captured a Raven. "Yeah, he's in the cellar right now. I'll deal with him tomorrow." Michael responded to me and I just nodded as I watched him wearing the white boxer briefs and then he walked over to me and sat on the bed, wiping his hair with the towel.

“You don’t know who Elijah Yarrow is?” “No, should I?” I ask, confused, and he chuckles. “The man is a fucking tech billionaire, Verena. He’s always at odds with Alpha Niklaus for some reason or another,” Michael says, rolling his eyes. “They’re rivals, but also childhood friends.” My heart stutters. “Is he an Alpha as well?” Michael shakes his head. “No, surprisingly he’s human—” he says, then he rolls his eyes again when the phone rings. “Sorry. Chat later!”

I smiled, I had expected that reaction from Michael. “Who am I, Michael?” I asked him carefully. “Baldwin McAllen,” he responded. “The CEO of Mac Group.” “That's not all!” I exclaimed. “You have worked with me for a while. You should know what I am capable of.” “I do,” Michael replied with his head bowed low. “Then you should also know that I detest all forms of deception,” I continued. “Bruce is my fiercest competitor in the business and over time, I have come to understand him.

The monitor continued its steady rhythm. Beep. Beep. Beep. “I remember the road…” Michael swallowed. “Then nothing.” Steve watched him. “A passerby found you.” Michael nodded faintly. “Someone called 911.” Steve glanced at Dan. Michael had been left there to die. —————- Steve stood. “One last thing.” Michael opened his eyes. “Did you see their faces?” “No.” “The masks?” “Yes.” “Anything distinctive?” Michael thought. “Dark clothes.” “Both?” “Yes.”

My fingers tightly gripped the canvas straps of my thrifted duffel bag, the faded fabric a stark contrast to the pristine, stitched leather beneath me. ​"You're going to burn a hole through the glass if you keep staring at it like that," a low, gravelly voice cut through the hum of the engine. ​I didn't turn my head. I didn't need to. I could see his reflection in the window—the sharp, arrogant line of his jawline, now marred by a faint, fading purple bruise from the industrial warehouse brawl. Michael "Mike" Weller. Nineteen years old, standing at a towering six-foot-three, with a mop of golden blonde hair that looked effortlessly styled even when he'd just rolled out of bed. He wore a simp

The man, Michael, looked at Zavier with eyes full of hatred and wariness. “Nayla?” said Zavier in a trembling voice, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Michael?” Zavier could not believe what he was seeing. The woman he had been looking for all this time was now in front of him with Michael, the man he had thrown out.

"Also, add a diamond hairpin. I will transfer the money to you." "Okay, I will send it to you shortly." I know he will bring it himself because his shop should be closed now but I don't want it that way. "No, deliver it to Michael. I will tell him what to do." Michael is a retired CIA agent, who is my hired private detective. He is good at what he does. The only human whose abilities I admire. Well, my mate is an exception. Steve's mind always runs wild but he is always right. "Is it what I am thinking?" He asks skeptically.

"Not yet. But whoever they are... they were smart enough to slip past my firewalls. Which means they're either better than me..." "Or they know exactly how you code," Michael finished, his eyes darkening. They had a traitor among them, and I don't know why, but my eyes flickered to Ariel. Michael caught my glare too, he always saw everything. "What the fuck?" Vinnie shouted, fingers slamming the keyboard in a panic. "What?" Michael's attention snapped back to him. Vinnie didn't answer immediately. His fingers moved pounded the keyboard, bringing up a grainy security camera feed.

I scan frantically for her golden hair, her familiar face, her. Nothing. She's not here. "Arielle!" Her name tears from my throat, raw and desperate. I try to stand, but my legs give out, sending me crashing to the ground. The pain is nothing. Fear is everything. Michael appears at the tent flap, his face pale and grim. I've known him for years seen him through countless battles, countless horrors. I've never seen him look like this. "Victor," he says, crossing to me quickly. "You need to rest. You're not—"