Pride9 Bite Me by Shelly Laurenston

Author:Shelly Laurenston
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2014-02-17T05:00:00+00:00

Wearing her mink coat—something other shifters thought was tacky—and smoking one of her French cigarettes, Joan sat on the marble bench in the backyard and stared up at the sky.

Melly had finally been dragged off by one of her cousins so there was no more crying and screaming about how, “No one understands that I loooooooovvvvveeee him!”

So that was something to be grateful for.

Her sisters and Aunt Li-Li had gone off, as well, to get a hotel suite at the Kingston Arms. The Yangs didn’t have the reputation that the Kowalskis did at the local Manhattan hotels, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Joan had briefly entertained staying here with her daughter, but why torment herself? They’d never gotten along, and she didn’t think that would change now. Especially since Joan didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. But leave it to Olivia to turn this whole thing into a big deal.

Of course, any time Joan thought about what her husband must have gone through during his final moments, the indignity of being hunted like some poor animal in the wild . . . well, her rage took over. Something no one should want.

Her anger might not come out often, but when it did, the world shuddered in the face of it.

But, for once, Joan was going to let her daughter take the lead on this. To be honest, she wanted to see what her daughter would do. How she would handle it. If Olivia handled it well, then at least Joan wouldn’t have to worry about her safety. Not involving herself in the family business put Olivia at risk in a way she wouldn’t be if she was involved.

Then again, there was that time Olivia was snatched by full-human men who wanted her father to do a job for them. Olivia had only been sixteen at the time, and both families had quickly gotten together, plans on how they would deal with the kidnapping already in the works, when Olivia had suddenly walked in the back door of their Washington house. Covered in blood, with a handcuff still dangling from her wrist, she’d walked barefoot through the kitchen, stopping only to point at her father and inform him that, “After what I just went through, you better pay for my art school.” Something her father had initially refused to do—even after a painfully long plea from Antonella Jean-Louis Parker on Livy’s behalf—because he’d rightfully thought it was stupid.

But when they didn’t find anything but the empty van and lots of dried blood, Damon went ahead and paid for that education he didn’t believe in.

So maybe Joan didn’t need to worry about her ridiculous daughter with her ridiculous ideas about being a great artist.

A glass of scotch was held in front of her face and, smiling, Joan took it.

“Thank you, Baltazar.”

Her husband’s brother sat down next to her. It was freezing cold out, so he also wore his mink coat.

“Don’t be mad at little Olivia.”

“Who says I am?”

“You did. I heard you say to your sister, ‘I am so mad at her.

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