The Night Agent: A Novel Novels & Stories

Standing near him in the cool Montana mornings was like standing near a fireplace. She had not done anything about any of it. She was not going to do anything about any of it. She was an FBI agent conducting an investigation in deeply irregular circumstances and Roman Volkov was a person of interest and that was the entire story. She told herself this firmly on day three and then couldn't sleep. At eleven-fifteen she gave up on sleep entirely. She pulled on her jeans and his shirt, her blazer was still torn and she hadn't asked for alternatives because asking felt like conceding something, and padded quietly through the dark lodge toward the kitchen and the promise of whatever passed for tea

The piercing wail of sirens echoed through the night as the FBI swarmed Ivy’s home. Flashing red and blue lights bathed the modest suburban neighborhood, creating an eerie juxtaposition of normalcy and violence. Agents moved with precision, cordoning off the scene while forensic officers meticulously documented every detail. Special Agent Akeem stood at the heart of the chaos, his towering frame radiating authority. His dark trench coat billowed slightly in the cool night breeze as he surveyed the scene with a practiced eye. The sight before him, however, gave even his seasoned instincts pause.

The city lights blurred slightly, not because of speed, but because my eyes kept burning, kept threatening to betray me. The last time I did this, I never got answers. The last time, the flowers disappeared into a building I couldn’t enter, into a mystery I couldn’t solve. But tonight… tonight he wasn’t hiding. Tonight, I got to see exactly who Daniel was about to spend the night with. They drove for a while, the streets growing quieter, cleaner, richer. The kind of neighborhood where the sidewalks shone and the buildings stood tall and proud, dressed in glass and gold. When the hotel finally came into view, my stomach dropped.

Castle. The night was nearly over, and the early morning was creeping up. It was three forty-five, and the last bar was already emptying. Across the street, the last patrons of the bar stumbled out. One of them tripped on the curb and laughed. The bouncer leaned in the doorway, bored with his arms crossed over his chest. I kept my gaze fixed across the street, waiting for a certain FBI agent to exit. I had him followed after he left work, not wanting to dismiss Flair's threats.

The suspicion followed me home like a shadow I couldn't shake. Jace had dropped me at my apartment with a quiet "get some sleep" and a look that lingered a beat too long, and now I was sitting on my bed at three in the morning, staring at the unknown number's message until the words blurred. The agent is standing right in front of you. Not beside me. Not watching from the shadows. In front of me. Every day. Someone I saw so often I'd stopped seeing them at all.

Ryan mused. The manager cleared his throat, "A woman was actually with and she signed in with a name". "Get me that book!" The FBI agent said. On his badge was written Roderigo Novi. The manager headed towards the window. "Sir, the wayout is the other side or don't tell me you're planning to jump" Ryan said amusingly while the rest smiled. No one could laugh in this situation. Not even with the strong odor in the room. The manager smiled nervously and turned around. He dashed out of the room. Rodrigo moved closer to the dead body and examined the cross sign.

I looked at the note and sighed deeply: I'm sorry I was an, so I hope you'll forgive me so I can get on the right foot. Your new friend, Agent Enzo Mori. P.S.: Destroy the note and don't say what happened to the laxative. I didn't know whether to be surprised, annoyed or disgusted that he knew my damn tastes, however, I took things and told myself that I deserved them, I ate the damn hamburgers with Friends in the background and I thought about all the changes that could arise in my life after agreeing to do that, after falling into the provocation of the, but he was right. There had to be someone inside, a person who had some power of trust, some power of manipulation, as well as some advan

She checked on her cheap phone and saw that she had a text message from Danielle. ‘Your mom is in the operating room. I paid for the down payment as Mama Lovie instructed.’ She sighed in relief after reading the text message that Danielle sent her around three o’clock in the morning. Seconds later, she read her second text message. ‘I have a great commission because of you. I hope to work with you again!’ Lyzza shook her head. There would be no next time. It was already enough that she gave herself to a stranger for one night in exchange for a considerable amount of money.

The scent of pine needles and damp earth clung to my cloak as I made my way. The figure I’d replaced had been loyal, but loyalty was a liability. The Cult thrived on shadows, whispered secrets, and veiled intentions. The hospital’s windows glowed like distant stars. I slipped inside, avoiding the watchful eyes of nurses and doctors. The venom pulsed in my hand, its malevolence eager to be unleashed. ========= —————— The Cultist’s Pov: Agent 105 St. Lilith’s Hospital Room A-1 Redmon, Illinois, USA

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to make you a quick cocktail. It’ll heal you up, painlessly.” Whatever it was, it sounding fucking great to her. Hell, it sounded like the best thing ever. Lily wished she had some the first time around. “Okay.” BY THE GODS THERE Nothing more aromatic to ever hit his nose, than this female’s scent. Roses and embers. Something so incredibly unique, so incredibly delicious. Caspius looked at his friends. Some friends they were. A shifter, a vampire and an incubus walk into a bar. Caspius rolled his eyes. Just thinking about their odd pairing sounded like a bad joke.