Last Kiss Goodnight Read Free

silence?” said John No Last Name. He’d refused to accept the surname of his adoptive parents, and by the time Michael had realized why and gotten him out, the boy had wanted nothing to do with the Black name either.
    “Obviously not,” Michael replied easily. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?”
    John gave him the finger. He was a Rakan and from his curling locks to his glittering skin, he looked as though he’d been chiseled from a brick of solid gold. Michael was pretty sure there was no man more beautiful.
    Corbin Blue snickered, and John gave him the finger too.
    Blue was an Arcadian, a race known for its people’s pale skin, white hair, and lavender eyes, and he was one of the fiercest warriors Michael had ever encountered, over six and a half feet tall, with the muscle mass of an artificially engineered specimen on a steady diet of steroids and growth hormone.
    Of the three males, Blue was the only one who kept a public persona. He played professional football as a cover to get into the right parties, attended by the right people, where alcohol flowed and secrets spilled. Well, that, and because he enjoyed knocking other men around for money.
    Beside him sat Solomon Judah. Michael wasn’t sure of the male’s origins. All he knew was that he’d never encountered anyone like him, and everyone who met him feared him. Including Michael! Solo either burned hot or iced cold, and there was nothing in between.
    Solo kept to himself, only emerging from his “hick, backwater bat cave,” as Blue called it, for a mission. But then, Solo had to be solitary. He was taller than both Corbin and John, monstrously so, with an even bigger muscle mass, but while the others were fantasies of urban beauty, Solo was a nightmare of hellish ugliness.
    And okay, yeah, that was way harsh. He only resembled a creature from the underworld when his temper overtook him. Right now, he was actually what Michael’s female assistant referred to as barbarian chic. And she always used a hushed, deferential tone.
    Solo had unevenly chopped black hair, thanks to his affinity for cutting the strands with his own blade, and deeply bronzed skin. His eyes were blue and heavily lashed, his nose strong and aristocratic, with a slight bump in the center from one too many breaks.
    Whenever he experienced a surge of anger, Solo’s skin would darken to a frightening shade of crimson—the last color his enemies saw before dying horribly. His teeth would elongate into something far worse than fangs. His cheekbones would double in size and his ears would grow and develop sharp points at the end. Metallic claws would sprout from his nails.
    By the time the last of the physical changes occurred, no one would be able to calm him. He would rage until becoming too weakened to move, everything in his path already totally and completely obliterated.
    That hadn’t always been the case. Once, his adoptive parents had had great success in the soothe-the-savage-beast arena. In fact, the pair had taken countless years off Michael’s life, terrifying him as they’d approachedthe crazed boy, not to try and subdue him but to wrap their arms around him and hug him close. And Solo had let them!
    When Mary Elizabeth and Jacob died, Solo had been inconsolable—and once again unstoppable.
    He must have felt Michael’s gaze, because he looked up and locked on him. They shared a silent moment of communication.
    Michael: How are you doing, son?
    Solo: If you don’t get started, I’ll rip out your heart and have it for breakfast.
    That was just a guess on Michael’s part, of course, but he was suddenly certain Solo iced cold today.
    “I received a great piece of intel,” Michael said, getting down to business. He sat upright and pressed a few buttons on his computer.
    “Uh, I hate to break it to you, boss, but that’s not exactly a news flash,” Blue replied. “The only time you call us together is when you’ve received intel. Get to the real stuff, will