House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Liam rumbled through the draws for the hundredth time, “It can’t just disappear, try tracking it again.”

His sister clomped her black ankle boots towards him from the passage, trampling on glass, cracking it with her heels, the noise not bothering either of them.

Her legs encased in a vintage pair of dark maroon leather pants, she lifted the sleeve of her black and silver jersey which sat loosely on her bodice and pushed her open blonde wavy hair back. Her Australian accent rushed through the room, “I have done it over and over again, if it was here I’d know.”

“Nobody knows about the necklace beside the three of us, I delivered it myself, who would take it.”

He looked at the girl, her eyes greener than the summers grass, shinier than a gemstone in the sun, the eyes of his mother. “Liam I don’t even know much about the necklace myself, you still haven’t told me what’s it for? the scent tells me it’s strong, and that brother always equals trouble.”

“I told you I will in time, try again, I’m going to talk to the police, and try ‘n keep it to yourself will you.”

She threw her hands in the air, “I don’t have to help you, a little trust brother will go a long way.”

to kiss her forehead, “Why can't you wear a dress once in a while Jullie.” With a fleeting wave of her hand, she then pushed him lightly, “Because dressing fittingly for a mission, ready to fight or

the urge to laugh, although the necklace was missing he had held Clare in his arms, inhaling her essence. She never shunned him, if anything she was reluctant to leave his embrace. Liam had wanted to be there with her, have more time with her. The possessiveness he felt of her went beyond reason, but his need to protect her first was

“you must be the detective,” Liam’s voice echoed loudly before the

the chest, in an attempt to apply himself as a deceptor. Unfortunately, his

a pretentious bastard, but what was he to do? No, he wasn’t wearing gloves for anyone. They would

air around him to rise, making him a minimum of a hundred times more

the deceptors heart race because his profound presence was hard enough for one not to feel

me, Ian.”

Liam didn’t have time to talk much. Casually he looked at his watch, it was a few after six, then he looked behind him,

herself scarce moving toward the bedroom. She hated deceptors and tried to refrain heavily from any contact with them unless necessary. Which suited him just perfect because he liked his

face, redness from eating forbidden fruits and meats, then he went deeper. The man stood there but had absolutely no recollection of what Liam was doing, no clue that he was

completely satisfied with what all the detectives now concluded in their minds about the crime scene- it was a fight, and the people had left, either than that it was a closed case, nothing worth reporting. Because that is what Liam had put in