Free TherianPrey by Cyndi Friberg Page A

kicking Ian in the chest before darting out of reach.
She watched the bunch and flex of their powerful bodies, mesmerized by the
masculine beauty of their aggressive display. Fully dressed, Quinn had been
marvelous. Naked, he took her breath away.
    Ian grunted, rubbing his bruised chest as he drew back his
wing for another violent swat.
    Shaking away the momentary stupor, she yelled, “Cut it out!”
She rushed forward, glaring at each man in turn.
    “Did you trigger her heat, Jenaro?” Ian shouted, obviously
unwilling to end the argument.
    Resentment filled Quinn’s dark eyes as he turned and looked
at her. “I didn’t touch you until after the fever rose. You were going crazy by
the time I kissed you.”
    She tugged on the hem of her shirt. He was naked, so why did
she feel exposed and vulnerable? “I didn’t accuse you of anything. I told them
I wasn’t sure what happened.”
    “Them?” He turned back to Ian, hostility freezing his
features. “Is Erin here? Her son would like to speak with her.”
    “I just bet he would,” Ian snickered. “Did Kyle promise you
Carissa if you help him find Ava? That will keep both Seymour sisters in feline
control.”
    Quinn moved forward, eyes narrowed on Ian’s face. “She reeks
of you, old man! Did you define her or just—”
    “Stop it!” She stepped in front of Quinn again and shoved
him back with both hands. He might be unconcerned with his nudity, but she was
becoming progressively more aware of him. She hadn’t realized how muted the
sensations had been with Ian until Quinn crashed back into her life. “He didn’t
touch me. Not that it’s any of your business.” Why was she provoking him? She knew
it was dangerous even as the words slipped off her tongue. “I don’t belong to
you.”
    He grabbed a handful of her shirt and pulled her forward. “I
say we take care of that right now.”
    In an instant, Ian was behind Quinn with his arm wrapped
around his throat. “Even I can smell her fear. Get your filthy hands off her.”
His voice was calm and deadly, but Quinn didn’t seem impressed.
    “Say the word, Carissa, and I’ll take you out of here. This
raptor’s no match for me.”
    Ian’s wing folded sharply, the tip aimed at Quinn’s head.
Carissa leapt to the side, meaning to intercept the blow. The snap of
fracturing glass sent Ian twisting to the side. Quinn lunged for her, but his
reaction was a millisecond too slow. Searing pain drilled into her upper chest
and the bullet’s momentum jerked her sharply to the left. She screamed,
terrified and confused as the fire in her chest burned away her speculation.
    Quinn’s lunge drove her to the carpet. Ian crouched over
them, wings spread protectively. She cried out again as her wounded shoulder
slammed against the floor and stars burst behind her eyes.
    “She’s hit.” Quinn sounded angry, but fear made his dark
eyes shine. “Get off me! I need to see how bad.”
    “Stay down.”
    Quinn’s only response was an impatient sneer.
    With his wings still fully extended, Ian pivoted to the side
and ran toward the window. His upper body bent low and he leapt through the
gaping hole Quinn had left behind then shifted into an eagle in midair.
    Even in her pain-induced daze, Carissa felt a rush of awe.
“Why would someone shoot me? Doesn’t Osric need me alive?” She clenched her
hands and fought back a scream as the agony sank deeper into her chest.
    “You weren’t the target.” Quinn ripped her shirt open and
examined the wound, worry etched into his features. “Fucking abolitionists.”
    Abolitionists? The old-fashioned word swam through her mind,
but her brain refused to provide a modern context.
    “The bullet has to come out,” he said, “but bleeding’s our
enemy right now.” Shooting to his feet, he rushed into the hall bath and
returned with a stack of hand towels. “I’ve got to put pressure on it, and it’s
gonna hurt like hell, so don’t bother trying to be brave.”
    She squeezed