Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

with her team. They were making certain Casey Andersson stayed safe and out of trouble.

Quake looked at Stone. “I thought Phantom was in prison.”

“He was,” Stone murmured, lowering his voice to a level that would be inaudible to anyone without their supersensitive hearing. “Just to be on the safe side, let’s do a partial shift.”

A full shift to gargoyle form would mean clothes off and wings out. With a partial shift, they grew a few inches taller and considerably heavier. They retained their human appearance but their skin became impervious to bullets and blades.

Their chairs groaned, complaining of the additional weight when they shifted.

Protection in place, their President pulled out his phone and sent off a quick text.

Thirty seconds later, his cell pinged twice.

“Phantom’s out early,” Stone informed their table. “Good behavior, if you can believe that.”

“Someone did or was paid to,” Mason commented dryly. “Money talks in politics and prisons.”

Stone didn’t respond. Glancing at his list of texts, he read one more and tucked his cell phone away, saving the rest for later.

The Death’s Head MC members bellied up to the bar, forcing patrons off their stools so that they could take them.

Their bartender, Bunny, braced herself, her inner rabbit urging her to flee from the predatory jackals. They started hitting on the attractive blonde shifter right away, demanding drinks and emptying the pretzel and popcorn baskets just to make her refill them, making lewd comments about her tits and ass.

Prime goods that Rock knew well.

The other club Enforcer started to rise, prepared to intervene.

“Easy,” Stone admonished, pulling out his cell and looking at his texts. Swear to God, that man was glued to his phone. Their President blew an exasperated sigh at the newest message. “I need to make a quick call. Back in a minute.”

The President went down the hall and unlocked the door to the private office. Whatever it was must be important.

Quake took another sip and scanned the thinning crowd. The Death’s Head bikers were killing business. Sensing danger, the regulars were settling tabs and slipping out. Things escalated when one of the jackals got handsy, grabbing Bunny’s Double-D tit. The buxom blonde squeaked and jumped back out of reach. Her attacker dove over the bar after her.

And the fight was on.

Thanks to their partial shift earlier, the three Dragons were ready for action. Fists flew. Tables and chairs were overturned. Glass shattered on the stained concrete floor. Stone heard the ruckus and raced to help. Not that they couldn’t have handled it. Twelve jackals were no match for one gargoyle, let alone four, but the quicker they could end it, the less they’d have to replace or repair.

Phantom was the last to go down, the stubborn son of a bitch. Quake caught the bastard’s fist and delivered a blow to his solar plexus that robbed him of air and sent him to his knees.

“Get the fuck out,” Stone ordered, his tone daring them to disagree. “Go back to The Snake Pit where you belong.”

The ones who could stand easily helped the rest to their feet. Mason and Rock herded them toward the exit. Pausing at the door, Phantom stretched out his arm with his index finger and thumb extended, pointed his hand at Bunny, and jerked it like he was shooting a gun.

The rabbit shifter paled, color draining from her face.

“Son of a bitch,” Quake growled, ready to shove that finger up his ass.

“Leave it,” Stone ordered. “Let them go. We don’t need the law coming down on us. They’re leery enough of bikers as it is. Most of them don’t see any difference between us and those jackals. Rock, you’re assigned to Bunny tonight. Stick around. Make certain everything gets locked up nice and tight. See that she gets home safe and sound. Got it?”

Oh, yeah. Rock got it alright. His dick visibly seconded the notion of seeing Bunny to bed.

Quake’s pecker protested, feeling left out. He hadn’t been laid in a few days, he had money in his pocket, and he knew just the place to get a piece of tail. “Stone, Mason. I’m headed for The Pole Barn. You interested?”

The Pole Barn was officially a rural strip club with some of the prettiest bitches he’d ever seen. The upstairs bordello wasn’t legal but for the right amount of cash, you could buy a lap dance or a dance between the sheets, take your pick. Wolf shifters loved it doggie. They could take being ridden rough. In his experience, they were worth every cent.

“Nah,” Stone demurred. “I need to get back. That call I made earlier was to our brothers in New York. I promised Malik and Iosefa if their ATF agent comes to tomorrow night’s fight, I’ll personally keep an eye on her. I’ll either be watching that fine ass of hers or saving it. We’ll see.”

“I’ll come with,” Mason decided. “Been a while since I’ve seen the girls, and Candy knows how to work that pole.”

All of the women who worked there could move like world-class gymnasts, and every one of them was drop-dead gorgeous. None of the other local strip clubs measured up.

Parting ways with Stone and Rock, Quake and Mason exited The Dragons’ Den and headed for their bikes. The parking lot was strangely empty and blessedly quiet with no trace of Phantom or anyone from his club. Taking that as a good sign, Quake mounted his Harley and rumbled onto the road.

The Pole Barn was thirty minutes away, located on a former ranch that had been converted to meet the current owner’s needs. Two main buildings and numerous smaller ones dotted the property. The massive barn was now a strip club and bordello. The large house, off-limits to patrons, was where some of the girls and the owner of the club lived, choosing to keep their private lives separate from the demands of their profession.

Madam Belle was strict on rules. Head of the mismatched pack living under her roof, she protected them fiercely.

Quake and his brothers had