Free The All Encompassing: Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 1) by May Ellis Daniels Page A

a don’t-be-a-stereotyping-idiot glare. “ Classic gangster rap,” she corrects with a haughty little sniff. “N.W.A. 1988. Back when shit was real. Your boy has good taste in music.”
    “Real?” I say, about to ask when shit got unreal. Then I stop. “My boy?” I say, mouth dropping open. “What the hell, Trish? Seriously!”
    “Seriously!” she mocks, fluttering her hands around her neck like an overheated valley girl. Then she leans forward and her voice gets all conspiratorial. “Yes, seriously. I saw you eye him when he rolled by on his bike. Saw you do the same thing over there by the bar. I’m a cop too, remember? Although it wouldn’t take much observational talent to notice you panting at him. Seems our little Lily has a thing for tattooed bad boys.”
    Panting? Bad boys? Christ. I’m about to tell her to piss off when I’m distracted by the waitress bringing me my drink. “On second thought,” I say, “you know what? I’m leaving.” I turn to Trish. “You were right. This place is a dive. Lets get out of here. I’ve got a long day tomorrow. We both do.”  
    The biker takes his first shot. There’s a loud crack of cue ball hitting home and the rap continues to blare:

    Shoot a motherfucker in a minute
    I find a good piece of pussy and go up in it—

    I make a disgusted face. Pigs and morons. Always and everywhere.  
    “It’s misogynistic bullshit,” I mutter to Trish.
    “It’s a fantasy world, Lil. Like you and that outlaw biker.”
    “Would you stop—”
    The waitress puts my beer back on her serving tray.
    “I’d like another bourbon, please,” Trish says to the waitress.  
    The waitress eyes me uncertainly.  
    “Fine,” I sigh. “Whatever. As long as someone changes the music.”
    Trish smiles.  
    “Don’t look at me like that,” I snap once the waitress is gone. “You want to stay, fine.” I press my fingers to my eyes, trying to forget the feeling of the biker’s waist pressed close to me, his strong arms wrapped around my chest. He takes another shot behind me.  
    I will not turn and watch an outlaw biker Prez play fucking pool.  
    I will not .
    “Ooh,” Trish purrs.  
    Bitch.
    “So it’s bikers now is it?” I say. “Thought you were all in for rich guys?”
    Damn. That was nasty, and the look Trish gives me lets me know she thinks so too.  
    “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just…I mean…I’m off my game. Did you see him drop that guy? It was brutal.” I take a long sip of my beer, thinking about the Adderol in my purse. I have a two a night limit. Otherwise I grind my teeth so bad I’ll need dentures at thirty.  
    But this is shaping up to be no ordinary night.  
    “Oh, damn,” Trish says, smiling at the biker. “You really are missing out here, Lil.”  
    I close my eyes and sigh. I know why she’s doing it. Connor. They’ve never liked one another. Trish thinks he’s a dick and he thinks she’s uppity, self-righteous trash. She’s always tried to pull me away from him. And it’s one of those weird things: I both love and resent her for that. For having my back. Because on the one hand she’s right. Connor is a dick.  
    But on the other…
    I turn in my seat to watch the biker Prez play pool. No harm in watching, right? The low light above the table shadows his face, makes the hard angles of his chin and cheekbones stand out. He’s handsome in a hard, unremitting kind of way. His leather cut is covered in patches and insignias, and across his back is the Pureblood Predators MC patch, a skeletal wolf head with glowing yellow eyes. There’s a small golden crown floating above the head, and a pair of upside-down grim reaper blades crossed beneath. All you’d need to add is a bloated corpse or two to complete the tough-guy look.  
    “You know them?” I ask Trish. She did a stint with Organized Crime before setting her sights on homicide.
    “The Purebloods? Sure.”
    The biker takes a shot. The cue ball smacks its target. The