Falling from the Light (The Night Runner Series Book 3) by Regan Summers Page A

Thurston into this situation. And, if we were keeping score, I was the reason he still existed. That didn’t make me feel any better.
    “Movies first or thong shopping?” Mickey asked, elbowing me in the side.
    “Neither.”
    “But…shopping!”
    A wave of heat rolled out when I opened the door and, over the top of the car, I noticed a white pickup start up on the far side of the parking lot. I glanced at Petr and saw his quick nod, aimed at the other driver. And there was our daytime tail. I hadn’t really expected that Malcolm would be comfortable leaving me unattended, even if my own mother wouldn’t recognize me. Part of that strategizing Petr had been so proud of. It must have meant something to an organization freak like him, being depended upon by vampires. Like having truffle pigs complement your sense of smell.
    I got into the car, ignoring the burn of the vinyl, and started the engine. Mickey and I smiled at each other as it roared to life and my mood lifted several levels.
    “This is a thing of beauty,” I said. “I’m putting the top down.”
    “Great!”
    “Then we have to go stake out a laboratory.”
    “You buy your thongs from a laboratory?”

Chapter Four
    G oya Worldwide’s corporate headquarters was a steel and glass campus, glaringly bright on its swath of manicured lawn. It didn’t look like it housed a corporation that had designed a drug that could turn a vampire into a nasty killing machine.
    Its website advised that teachers could fill out a form and someone would get back to them within six weeks to set up a tour of the facility. I wasn’t going to sit and wait for a written response while suckers could be losing their minds. Never mind clever strategy. Sometimes you just had to move.
    “I’m going in,” I said. Mickey shook her cup and tipped it back until a piece of ice fell into her mouth.
    “What’re you going to do? Point a finger and accuse them of designing murder? Because then I’m coming, too, so I can record it.”
    “I’m going to give them this look.” I slid my sunglasses halfway down my nose and glared. “Betcha a dollar somebody drops to their knees, wailing their confession within one minute.”
    “I am already terrified.” Mickey handed me a dollar. “Go get ’em, tigress.”
    My boot heels clicked on the bleached flagstones as I marched toward the tinted glass doors. I took a deep breath. The company looked legit, even pleasant. Hell, they had a family of glass ducks in one of their water effects. There was no way they knew their innocent little “radiant glow” skin serum was killing people. Vampire reactions weren’t the sort of thing the FDA tested for.
    The lobby was bright and shiny clean, and the people in it wore suits rather than lab coats. The labs were supposed to be on-site, but with this much square footage, it might take me a week to discover where they were. A security guard glanced up and gave me a slow once-over before returning to watching a bank of screens. No double take. No second look. No scowl. Maybe the makeover did serve a purpose.
    The woman at the counter was heavily perfumed and plump enough that the buttons of her coral blouse strained. She didn’t bother to hide her glossy celebrity gossip rag when I walked up. I smiled, and she smiled back enthusiastically. The lobby must have been a lonely place.
    Three minutes later I was signed in, wearing a visitor’s security badge and frantically reading the “résumé” Petr had provided as the elevator delivered me to the human resources department. My nerves migrated to my stomach and started slapping at each other. I adjusted my bag and took a deep breath. This wasn’t a new delivery address, full of unknown suckers and poachers trying to jack me en route. All I had to face here were humans.
    I opened the door to the HR office. No humans. An empty front desk hosted a plant that looked wilted despite being plastic, and mint-green carpet with tiny pink diamonds on it. A