Fangs of Anarchy - Forbidden Alpha (Part 3) Were in the World is Gannon Dodd?: A Werewolf Vampire Shifter Romance Read Free

before she typed in “The Zone.”
    There were all manner of pictures of the Zone, seedy and dank, full of exactly what you’d expect from those who chose to give the government the middle finger. It was a danger ous place for paranormals who rode the line between prison camps and signing the government agreement to uproot and move their families to a paranormal territory.
    The Zone was rife with illegal drugs, prostitution, homelessness and depravity.
    And she wanted to know what Gannon had to do with that.
    As she scanned article after article, she thought she might have hit on something when there was a light knock at her door, making her close the laptop in guilt.
    Then she froze, her arms still sore from her dip in the ocean. Then she was angry. If it was Courtland, shoving his way in here again, she was going to lose it completely.
    She needed time alone to parse this out, to find details, research. It was what she did best, and if Courtland and his gang of asshats didn’t quit interrupting her, she was never going to figure this out.
    Placing her ear to the door, she tightened her bathrobe around her, still chilled.
    “It’s me, Claire,” Irish whispered, low and delicious.
    Her pulse began that “Yay, Irish is here!” beat in her veins, until she realized she’d promised herself no more Irish.
    “I can hear you breathing, Claire. Vampire ears. In fact, I can hear your blood coursing through your veins. Open the door before I get caught.”
    Perfect. He could hear her excitement too. Was there nothing sacred? She cracked the door open, letting one eye peek out at him.
    Why couldn’t he be harder on that eye? “Irish!” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be here.”
    He smiled with slow perfection. “But now that I am, you’re not going to just leave me out here in the cold, are you?”
    Claire melted, giggling. “You can’t feel the cold.”
    “I might not physically be able to feel it, but I feel it here,” he said, circling the place where his heart should beat.
    Her resolve was beginning to weaken. Stay strong, Montgomery ! “You don’t have one of those either.”
    Irish drove a gloved finger into the crack in the door and shook it at her. “Just because I don’t have a living organ in me doesn’t mean I don’t have emotions you can’t crush, Librarian. Would a guy without any emotion take the heat for your murdering ways?”
    “Are you always going to use that to blackmail me?”
    “If it gets me in the door—you bet.”
    Claire fought a smile. “What kind of knight in shining armor resorts to blackmail, Irish McConnell?”
    “The kind who’s cunning and resourceful?”
    “I’m not even a little surprised you were an attorney in your former life.”
    He wiggled an eyebrow. “I was a good one, too. Let me in and I’ll show you how good.”
    “Where’s your bike? If someone sees it…”
    “I was careful. I left the bike back at my place and walked. Promise.”
    “What do you want?” She fought to keep the whine from her voice, knowing if she let him in, she wouldn’t want to let him back out.
    “ You ,” he said, his eyes growing fiery.
    Claire’s mouth went dry, her heart flexed its muscles in that odd way Irish had of putting it through a workout. But she didn’t keep her hand on the door. Instead, she let it fall away, allowing him entry by taking a few steps back.
    Irish didn’t say anything when he shut the door.
    He didn’t say anything when he sauntered toward her, his thick thighs bulging against his jeans, his eyes pinning hers.
    He didn’t blink an eye when he lifted her off the floor and carried her to her bedroom.
    Claire lost her abilit y to breathe as his stare consumed her, roved over her face, searched her eyes until she clung to him, helpless to stop something she knew they could be killed for.
    But in this moment, in this very second, Claire didn’t care if this was the way she died.
    Irish set her on the floor, gazing down at her. He pulled her robe