Fangs of Anarchy - Forbidden Alpha (Part 2) Girl Most Lycan: A Werewolf Vampire Shifter Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

joining the
Opposition, but I’m book smart, not street smart. I think I’m much better off
teaching children how to survive this kind of discrimination, finding ways to
make the best of a bad situation and educating people that we’re not monsters.
I’m definitely not better off armed with a gun and some face paint.”
    Irish stroked her palm. “Well, we already know murder
probably won’t go on your resume as one of your strong suits.”
    Claire made a face at him while her body warred with the
tingle of awareness he created. “Funny vampire. Though, I can’t say for sure I
wouldn’t kick Martin Lawler’s ass if I ever ran into him. If not for him
exposing us, humans would still be as clueless as they ever were about our
existence.”
    Irish rolled to his side, leaning his head on his hand. “Ah,
the man who started it all. I still can’t believe the idiot was stupid enough
to confess he was a vampire to, of all people, the staff at a big city morgue.”
    Martin Lawler, once an unassuming, quiet shoe store owner,
had somehow fallen into vampire sleep in an alleyway two blocks from his place
of business. The local authorities discovered him behind a Dumpster, and with
no identification, no pulse or heartbeat, pronounced him dead and took him
directly to the county morgue, where he woke up.
    Still without a pulse or heartbeat. At first baffling, then
scaring the entire morgue staff, whom he’d ended up unintentionally frightening
by flashing his fangs and flying around the halls.
    After that, there’d been raids in the wee hours of the
morning, summits with sires and council leaders, endless picketing at the White
House, fear, helplessness.
    All because of one man.
    Claire nodded, still trying to ease away from him. “Did you
see his Barbara Walters interview while he was in hiding? All that carrying on
about how he had no idea it would come to this.”
    “I watched it as I packed my bags to leave my cushy life in
New York.”
    “New York, huh? What did Irish McConnell do in New York? Was
he always the Fangs of Anarchy biker president?”
    “Why does Claire Montgomery want to know?”
    She feigned indifference, ignoring how adorable he was this
way. She liked this Irish almost as much as she’d lusted for the aloof,
untouchable one. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. I just know that
many of you weren’t always bikers. For instance, your brother Liam said he was
a pediatrician.” She paused for a moment before shrugging. “I was just making
conversation.”
    “Were you always a librarian?”
    Claire grinned. Books made her happy. There was nothing she
liked more than being buried up to her nose in a stack of books. “For almost
fifty years now. I moved around a lot, of course. The aging slowly thing, you
know.”
    “Which makes you how old?”
    She giggled, the laughter flying from her throat, sounding
foreign and rusty. “Old enough.”
    “I was only a part-time bike enthusiast,” he said suddenly, his
tone melancholy. “I rode on weekends, did the charity drives, stuff like that.”
    “Really? Seems like you’ve always done it.”
    “I was a corporate attorney in New York.”
    Ah. That explained his grip on the English language, his
diction, his penchant for solving problems amongst the two races. “I can’t
believe I’ve known you for five years and never knew that. But it explains why
you’re so good at mediating between the clubs and somehow managing to keep some
order here.”
    “I don’t know if ‘good’ is the word I’d
use , but I’ve had my hand in a negotiation or two. It was my favorite
part of the game back then.”
    She knew she was treading dangerous waters by finding out
more about him, but Claire couldn’t squash who she was. Ever curious. “So why
didn’t you join the Opposition?” Irish was the perfect candidate for plotting
revenge on the humans, strategizing mayhem.
    Now his face went grim, his lips flat, his expression hard. “Hadley.
My