Werewolves in Love 1: Kiss and Kin Read Online Free Page B

that time.
    “That’s not funny, Lark.”
    “Sure. Like you’d know funny.”
     
    They got to Lark’s apartment to find TJ waiting for them. When Lark asked her friend what Nick had needed, TJ just smiled at Taran and murmured, “Oh, you know how those alphas are.”
    Taran looked annoyed, which Lark found strangely comforting. After ordering TJ to stay with her at least another four hours—TJ cheerfully told him to bite her (“but if you do I’ll tell your Alpha”)—Taran left. He threatened to call and check on her later.
    “So. The Great Werewolf Detective seemed kind of concerned about you, didn’t he?”
    “I don’t want to talk about him, Teej. I just want a shower.”
    “Okay, but at least tell me what you think about the way he—”
    “Hey, TJ? How’s Nick? How many women has he fucked this month, and have you told him it kills you?”
    She instantly regretted the horrible, nasty words, but after all the trauma, and in her state of nervous exhaustion, she didn’t feel like dissecting her endless, hopeless, unrequited crush one more time. They’d been best friends for thirteen years. TJ would let this one slide.
    Sure enough, after a minute of hurt silence she threw her arms around Lark and squeezed.
    “Look, bitch,” she said into the general vicinity of Lark’s breasts, “That’s just mean, but I’m sorry anyway. You’ve had an awful time, and you’re right. No talk of asshole werewolves. How about midday margaritas? On second thought, no booze. Let’s order Chinese and veg on the couch…”
    She kicked TJ out around six. Her best friend hesitated to leave, asking over and over if she wanted her to spend the night, but Lark insisted she could stay by herself. She promised to call TJ if she changed her mind.
    She briefly considered staying home from work on Monday, but she didn’t want to talk about the ordeal and she didn’t like to lie. Besides, comfy pajamas, fuzzy socks and a good night’s sleep fixed almost everything. Tomorrow she’d feel normal again.
    Once asleep, she found herself in another dream—a bad one this time, and not just because it featured no Taran. She dreamed she was asleep in her bed, warm and safe, when someone tried to bust down her front door. In her dream she laughed—the unknown assailant couldn’t get in, because when she’d moved in here Taran and Myall had insisted on installing a steel door. She’d thought it excessive at the time, but she appreciated the hell out of it now, in her dream.
    She heard a godawful fight—from the sound of it, right outside her door. The steel door finally gave way with a mighty crash. The godawful fight fell into her front room. She sat up in bed and screamed, because she realized she wasn’t asleep after all.
     
     
    The pitifully faint trail threatened to go cold if he didn’t chase some leads. After he dropped Lark off, he went to meet with Le Monde management.
    They didn’t have much to tell. The mysterious European werewolves spent a lot of time and money—always cash—at Le Monde, and they attracted hordes of women. No one knew their names, and they never made trouble.
    Le Monde managers knew of the three women’s disappearances—four now, with Eloise—and the threat of publicity scared them enough that they agreed to let undercover officers pose as staff.
    The DA had failed in his attempts to get search warrants for the homes and computers of the first three women—the judge didn’t see enough evidence of foul play, even given all the women’s fae ethnicity and the fact they’d all gone missing from Le Monde. Now, however, with Lark’s drugging and near-abduction, and Eloise’s disappearance, presumably with the same wolves who’d tried to take Lark, the DA tried again. When contacted on Sunday morning, the judge granted the warrant.
    Either El made a lot more money than Lark, or she had someone helping to support her lifestyle. Her corner loft apartment was in one of downtown Houston’s most