Page 168 of Fallen Omega

I go inside and as I pull it shut, lights come on and the door locks. I’m in a room with no way out. There’s a sofa that looks like it folds out, a second space with some kind of futuristic bathroom, and a pantry with a hot plate. There’s food and drink in sealed packets with insane use by dates. It looks disgusting. And I hurt.

Going back to the door, I try and open it, but it’s locked. I try to get it to open but it doesn’t work. Who has a room that only locks from the inside?

I close my eyes. It’s a safe room. That’s what they’re for. To stop others getting in.

“At least there was a panel on the front. So there must be a way to open it from in here.”

Feeling very slightly mollified, I lay down and hug myself and hope against hope everyone is going to be okay. Because otherwise…how the hell will I get out?

I don’t want to die down here.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Knight

“Fuck.” I wipe the history and shut my computers down, unplugging them and taking the hard drives.

I hide the drives in a hidden lockbox safe. They won’t come down here, but it’s protocol.

Any raid or attempt to get in here is treated like the end of the world. Everything’s shut down.

When that’s done, I open my trash laptop and turn on porn. Everyone loves to judge people who watch the amount and type of porn I’ve filled this thing with. It’s very handy. Not in a spank bank way, this shit doesn’t do it for me, but it paints a picture of the dude who watches it. And this amount. I leave it running. Add some lotion and tissues.

Overkill, but hey. Whatever.

I take off at a run and burst into Liz’s room but she’s not there. Next, I go to Reaper’s suite, a goth king’s pride and joy. Not really. It’s plain and simple with the basics. Prison chic with some extras. Like weapons. And workout equipment. And books. Dude likes what dude likes, I guess. I grab a notebook and pen and tear out a page, scrawl a note and leaveit on Liz’s door in case she’s here and…I don’t fucking know. Maybe she’s with Reaper.

Maybe she’s with Dante. Or she’s just walked off into the morning.

No, that’s one thing she wouldn’t do. Just go off. And my heart clenches in my chest because some worst case scenarios are in my head and won’t go away.

I text ReaperPeabody, and add the wordAngel?He’ll get both references. The first tells him not to come in here until further notice.

The second? If anyone can find her, it’ll be him. It needs to be him because if the Council gets their hands on her and tries to register her even with our mark—it’s the Council, who knows with them? Our protection should be enough—then they won’t put her on any system until she’s way out of reach.

Though their version of out of reach and ours are two different things.

Still, last thing I want is her in their clutches.

And it would have to be the Council. They’re powerful, more so than law and order. They’re an arm of government and they can cross lines where the ones in blue can’t.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

I go back and quietly go into Dante’s domain. His office is empty. We both keep our offices clean and any info locked away when we’re not down here. It means we can vanish our activities in second, like taking a breath. But I’m not here for his office, I’m here for his personal space.

He’s a stubborn motherfucker, one whose proclivity for denial takes him all the way into the stratosphere, especially when it comes to certain dark-haired beauties, but he might have her in his bed.

I push open his bedroom door. The dark colors are strong with him, but I don’t see Angel.

More importantly, like with Reaper’s room, I don’t smellher. In fact, apart from the faint scent embedded in her room, I don’t smell her here at all.

Which is fucking odd.

My heart clenches again and with that sensation, coldness spreads, rising up the back of my neck, like fear for her.

Liz should be here. End of fucking story. Not traipsing away somewhere, or off with Reaper. And she isn’t. Shewashere, he was out, and…and I heard her singing. I think a man would give anything to keep hearing her voice when she sings.

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