Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) Read Online Free PDF

probably—”
    Curragh and Draik both cut him off. “—Marked” “—and we’ll be connected to Kruglov if we’re caught with them.” “Yeah yeah. We know.”
    Xavier held his arm out. “Give me that bottle.” He took a swig. “Well, at least that’s eighteen innocent girls who won’t be sold on the market anymore. Not a bad day’s work.”
    Curragh watched Xavier pass the bottle over, their pale friend taking it eagerly. Right before he took a swig, the bottle hovering by his lips, Draik growled, “Kruglov is going to pay with his life. Mark my words.”
    He took a big drink, set the bottle down and got up for the bathroom. He was built like a wolf, broad shoulders, muscle to spare, narrow hips, but unlike his darker packmates, he was Nordic. He had really white skin, pale brown eyes and dirty blonde hair that he changed the length of all the time. And today he was sporting a blonde and light brown beard, but that wouldn’t last. He called over his shoulder, “And don’t think we can’t smell that you got laid.”
    Curragh stared at him, then glanced to the window as Draik headed off. The curtains were partly opened, only about three feet wide. Through the third-floor window he could see the glittering lights of the city, Lake Michigan in the distance.
    “He’s out there.”
    But it wasn’t Kruglov on his mind. It was her. She was out there. And there were a lot of precincts to search if he ever wanted to see her again. Which I don’t. He grabbed the bottle and drank more than his mouth had room for, a little slipping down his chin. He wiped it with the back of his arm.
    “We’ll get him, Cur. Let it go for now.”
    Curragh looked over at Xavier and gave a short nod. “Yeah.”
    “Have fun with the girl?”
    “She was nobody special.”
    Returning, Draik laughed. “They never are.”
    Xavier jerked his chin up. “Give me that thing.”
    As Curragh’s left arm passed the bottle, he pretended to scratch his nose with his shoulder, the scent of her still so strong on it. He couldn’t help himself. And that’s what bothered him.
    With dead eyes, he leaned back and stared out the window.

Chapter Nine
    A t 5 :43 a.m. Kara awoke to the sound of a door opening in the distance. Drool tickled her chin. She wiped it away, darting a quick look around the quiet kitchen. Casual footsteps and jingling keys echoed from the front room of the restaurant toward her. Any moment she’d be caught.
    Clutching her purse and pushing down her dress from the absurd height it had climbed up to, she tiptoed toward the back door Curragh had used. After a couple tentative steps, she cringed at the click click of her heels and bent over to slide her shoes off. Making a break for it now with the quiet thudding of naked feet, she shoved the industrial door handle. Whoever-it-was opened the kitchen door behind her and turned on a light switch. Kara broke into a run, the grey-gold of late dawn a terrible thing to see.
    She ducked into the alley, chest heaving. The broken door her one-night-stand criminal had kicked in was beside her. How many doors does one restaurant need? Do they want to give me a heart attack??! She heard the industrial door opened again out back. Thanking her luck that they didn’t come out this door, she took off down the alley, praying for a miracle as she leapt onto the street and turned left. Just as she vanished, the restaurant manager appeared, warily scanning the alley. He discovered the broken door. “What the hell?” He never saw Kara.
    With heels in hand, she ran to her silver Cadillac CTS. Shaking fingers dug keys out from her purse and she shoved them in the driver’s side lock. “I’m never drinking again.”
    She drove past the restaurant manager with a poker face. From the corners of her eyes, she watched the guy. He was busy searching the streets for a homeless person he’d assumed needed a place to stay for the night. He didn’t even look at her car.
    A quick shower and a stop at