A Handful of Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

worry about publicity, my gorgeous wife-to-be?”
    He was so funny. “It’s not important, lovely husband-to-be.” She kept a straight face and let him tangle their fingers together. His hand was warm and dry with calluses across the palm and she wondered how it would feel if her stroked her skin.
    They headed back to Foxglove where Sasha regaled them with tales of his friends and his mischievous sister, Tammy. Stories that usually portrayed him as an innocent bystander, a stance Megan found difficult to believe. He sat next to her and she kept finding excuses to touch him. A brush across his knee. A hand on his shoulder. A friendly punch to his arm. In turn, he gazed at her as though she was the reason for his next breath. He draped a casual arm across the back of her chair, another proprietary gesture, but one she didn’t mind at all. When they left Foxglove for the club, she had no qualms about him sliding one arm around her waist. She mirrored the move and dug her fingers into his back pocket. Heat poured from his body and her head spun. How much had she drunk?
    “Where are we going?” Sasha sounded as though he was sober.
    “Mighty Mike’s.” She glanced up at him as they walked. “It’s an alternative club that does live music on Friday nights.”
    “Alternative?”
    “Yeah, they have some weird acts. Tonight it’s a band called Howlin’ Wolves. Very loud. You okay with loud music, husband-to-be?” He might be sober, but she was a little drunk and quite happy with that.
    “Sure. We have loud music in Wales, you know.” He paused at the side of the road and made sure it was safe to cross before he stepped out. They set off, entwined, Lou and Nessa following and Sasha kept an eye on her friends as they all made it across the busy junction. “How much further?”
    “We’re here.” Mighty Mike’s was one of her favorite venues, despite it being so alternative. Megan usually felt like Ms. Boringly-Normal there, with her lack of tattoos and piercings, but the music was refreshingly different to all the other clubs and that made it worth it. That and the ambiance. The club sprawled across the attic of a three story building and was fitted out with an assortment of mismatched sofas and armchairs, a handful of small wooden chairs and picnic tables, and a long bar that ran along one wall. At the far end was a miniscule stage and what was laughingly referred to as the dance floor. She’d seen larger bathrooms.
    They climbed up the narrow staircase to the entrance and the waiting doorman and Megan felt a familiar shiver ripple down her spine. Sasha paused and looked at her, a question in his eyes. “There’s something odd about this place,” she tried to explain. “I love coming here, but it has the weirdest vibe. You’ll see.”
    *
    Sasha saw all right. And smelled it. Wolves . Mighty Mike’s was a shifter club with a monster of a wolf on the door. Even he felt slightly intimidated. The doorman inhaled deeply when Sasha handed over his ten dollar entrance fee, then pinned him with a curious gaze. “Not from round here, eh?”
    “New in town.”
    “Enjoy your visit.” The doorman slipped something into the palm of his hand before stamping the back with a blurry image of a howling wolf, and then Sasha followed the girls.
    Once inside the thick door, the wall of music hit him first, assaulting his sensitive eardrums. His wolf growled. Remembering the doorman, he opened his palm to see two tiny foam earplugs. With a grin, he fitted them and instantly, the harsh bass notes softened to an acceptable level. Megan tugged at his hand and pulled him toward the bar. “Shots first. It’s our tradition.”
    He nodded and let his gaze drift around the room, absorbing the frankly strange people in various states of inebriation. Weird, how Megan had felt the shifter vibe. The atmosphere oozed shifter pheromones, so thick they were practically visible. Aside from his Pack, he’d never seen so many shifters in