Free Fangs of Anarchy - Forbidden Alpha (Part 2) Girl Most Lycan: A Werewolf Vampire Shifter Romance by Dakota Cassidy

Chapter
Six
    The silence in the library was deafening. No one moved. Not
a single Road Dog breathed, but their eyes zeroed in on Irish and Claire,
narrowed with ugly suspicion.
    The stench of alcohol was rife amongst the Dogs, invading
her nose with the putrid mix of booze and sweat.
    Irish’s gaze locked with Courtland’s while the werewolf
processed Irish’s admission.
    Do not pass out,
Claire. Do. Not . She fought the urge to allow the black void of
unconsciousness to swallow her up, the aching throb in her temple an incessant
pounding. She gripped Irish’s arm as he faced off with Courtland. “Stop, Irish!”
she managed, swaying on buttery knees, her head light.
    Claire took a long, ragged breath, focusing on inner
healing, forcing herself to hurry the process along so she remained coherent
enough to keep Irish from confessing to something he didn’t do.
    As her head began to clear, Claire remained between the two
men, moving her hand to Irish’s chest and appealing to Courtland, hoping her
voice didn’t tremble. “He’s lying. All vampires are liars. You know that,
Courtland. You say it all the time. I killed your vile, piece-of-shit brother.” She held out her hands, wrists turned
up, without even a second thought. “So lock me up and throw away the key.”
    Courtland looked at them both, his eyes darting between
Irish and Claire’s faces. “What the hell kind of bullshit is this? Is this some
kind of trick?”
    Irish shoved her around him, wrapping an arm behind his body
to hold her firmly against his back. “She’s lying. I killed your brother.”
    Claire dug into his back, using her knuckle to drive between
his shoulder blades. Standing on tiptoe, she whispered in his ear. “Um,
vampire?”
    “Yes, werewolf?” Irish said out of the side of his mouth,
his eyes still pinned on Courtland.
    “This was not part of the plan. Ixnay on taking the ame-blay .”
    “The what-ay ?”
    “Don’t you know pig Latin?”
    “No. But I do speak Russian and French. A little Italian.
Very little Spanish and some Vietnamese. Though, the last time I spoke
Vietnamese, I ended up in a rice paddy with someone named Miss Precious-Lou.
Don’t want to freak you out with details, but let’s just leave it at it’s been
twenty years and I’m still afraid of rice paddies.” He mock shuddered,
amusement in his coal eyes.
    Claire yanked on his ponytail, jerking his head back. “In
the immortal words of you—not a time to joke. I won’t let you do this, Irish,”
she whispered in his ear with a hiss. “What about Hadley? Didn’t you just give
me that whole speech about her safety?”
    “Yep. And then I remembered you’d be much better at child
rearing. There’s no rule that says a were can’t raise a vampire. Just that we can’t mate
with one another. She needs a woman in her life, and I need some rest. Do you
have any idea the kind of garbage she listens to on Pandora? And let’s not
forget the makeup she wants to wear or the clothes she seems to always need
even though she hasn’t changed a size in five years. The teenager-in-perpetuity
thing is exhausting since we age so slowly. Jail
would probably be a lot less tiring. Anyway, I’ve been thinking, she needs a
solid female influence. Tag, you’re it.”
    “A murderer is hardly a solid influence, Irish.”
    He shrugged his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you be a murderess,
Librarian? You know, you being a female and all? And okay, so there’s a blight
on your squeaky-clean record. It’s just one. We all make mistakes. Some bigger
than others.”
    A quick glimpse at Courtland and the Dogs and the utter
confusion on their faces as she and Irish argued made Claire roll her eyes and
yank harder on his hair, giving it a good jerk until his neck arched and he
winced from the angle. “You won’t just end up in the clink, Dracula. They’ll kill you, Irish. Knock if off.”
    “Or?”
    Dragging him backward by his hair, she gave him a good shove
and turned back to