Madison Beer And Nick Austin Novels & Stories

"The gambling crew. The head honcho is an ex-con who's stolen a dead woman's identity." Andrei whistled on his end amidst the clinking of glasses. Austin figured he was pouring himself a drink. After the nightmare of a visit he'd just had with the cop, he could also use a drink. He glanced longingly at the bar and contemplated grabbing one of the bottles and doing some serious damage to it. But he had a long night of networking ahead of him, and he needed to be of sound mind. So he lit a cigarette instead, the tension in his body melting away as he blissfully pumped himself with nicotine.

“This one is too strong. It might help kickstart your shifter healing as well, but I’m not entirely sure.” I can see the way Austin stiffens at that little tidbit, but I ignore him. He eyes Sam with caution, and I am sure he’s about to leave when he decides to plop down, a dark look in his eyes. What is his fucking problem? “What do you want?” I ask rudely. His eyes narrow, and then he shrugs. “Tap beer.” I want to wring his neck, but since that’s not really an option, I just pour him a beer and slam the mug in front of him. It doesn’t break and ruin his clothes, unfortunately, and Austin raises it in my direction before drinking.

“This one is too strong. It might help kickstart your shifter healing as well, but I’m not entirely sure.” I can see the way Austin stiffens at that little tidbit, but I ignore him. He eyes Sam with caution, and I am sure he’s about to leave when he decides to plop down, a dark look in his eyes. What is his fucking problem? “What do you want?” I ask rudely. His eyes narrow, and then he shrugs. “Tap beer.” I want to wring his neck, but since that’s not really an option, I just pour him a beer and slam the mug in front of him. It doesn’t break and ruin his clothes, unfortunately, and Austin raises it in my direction before drinking.