Her Lycan Lover Read Online Free PDF Page A

fought the urge to shift as Carrigan exited. He wasn’t about to leave his prints—human or wolf—on that shitkicker. That fucker’s days were numbered. Regardless of what he promised Shawn about reducing shifter-on-human violence. His business partner would either understand as head of the shifter Justice Council, or not.
    Clamping his jaws together, he made his way back to his office and poured two fingers of Scotch into a tumbler. Downing his drink, he cursed himself for showing his weakness. He’d done that once before when it came to Carrigan.
    He’d purchased the foreclosed property that came up on the Court docket. No one had shown up and he basically walked away with a Denver warehouse for pennies on the dollar. A city block that had been in Carrigan’s family since the 1800s. Five years ago, it had been Mick Carrigan along with his brothers who had come calling. Only that night, Quinn had been at dinner with a woman when they’d threatened to beat him to a pulp. He reacted by decking Mick and laying into a couple of his brothers. They’d exacted retribution in the most insidious of ways.
    After seeing the light enter Carrigan’s eyes at the mention of Sherry, Quinn’s nerves were pulled all too taut. The wolf in him refused to back down. He had to keep it together for a wild shifter evening was about to start. If he had any sense, he’d go find Mick Carrigan and take care of him tonight. Be done with what he should have finished, and get on with his life. Maybe that’s why he never slept normally. A guilty conscience.
    Damn, he was getting too old for these nightly escapades. If he was forced to act civil when he had to deal with men like Carrigan, he was backed into a corner with a choice—Lycan or man. He was both and neither if he had to sit idly by.
    Sure, shifters needed places like the Den, but did he? And what about Sherry? A human female being forced to deal with cagey creatures and cocksuckers like Carrigan who thought this was just another sex club.
    Opening the door to the hallway, Quinn scaled the front stairs, and inhaled the scent of male and female shifters coming from the upper floor. Leopard, coyote, wolf, and to his surprise a bear had managed to gain entrance into the club. Great, just what he needed . Another problem.
    He scrubbed his hand down his face. Normally, any animal that stood over six feet, weighing in at half a ton was politely declined admittance. Their insurance policy did not cover brawls that might damage costly one of a kind art work or the décor of the club. Is this why Sherry sounded so perturbed? First Carrigan and now a grizzly?
    What the hell? Quinn picked up his pace toward the far hall from which a low moaning, bass beat emanated. He came to the end of the hall and abruptly turned the corner. The scent hit him full blast. Prickly hairs under his skin were ready to burst into a thick fur coat over his body. His teeth sharpened and the pressure of sharp claws pulsed at his fingertips. He would be seven feet of fully black fur as a raging Lycan.
    In front of the doorway leading into an exclusive party wasn’t exactly the place to shift, yet with all the irrational assaults on his senses over the last few days not to mention minutes, anything might go. His heartbeat began to race at the sight of a tall figure lurking in the shadows. He’d personally reviewed the guest list. No bears. No way.
    Even though the Downtown Den had a reputation for catering to needy shifters, bears had a savage brutality better suited to sports bars where sawdust covered the floors and peanut shells were tossed onto tabletops.
    “Miserable sod,” Quinn muttered. The hulking shifter standing outside the reserved room moved into the light and the breath froze in Quinn’s throat. He softly chuckled before saying, “I’ll be damned.”
    The bear shifter snapped his head upward and tucked a cellphone into his trouser pocket. “Takes one to know one, ballbuster,” Jeremy