Sent Beast Mate(Beast Mates, #3)(26)

“I have to find her,” Dewlyn said.

“I can’t question the mouse yet. She’s skittish, scared, and—”

“I don’t like what I’m hearing. You sound…sane,” Vice said. “You’ve grown attached to her far too soon and you’re losing focus on your mission.”

I leapt of my chair, not liking the challenge. “I will secure Hanna for your mate. The mouse is disposable, but she is mine to dispose of.”

“She could be somebody’s mate.”

“Not my problem. How does a male lose a mate? Pfft.”

Vice glared at me.

Shit.

“Hey, May?” Dewlyn said.

“Yeah, sweetie, what is it?”

“You’re a twat.”

I didn’t know what that meant, so I smiled and wagged my eyebrows, practicing my charm on human women. “Sounds good to me.”



Reagan



After I woke up in a bed of fur, I showered and wrapped a towel around my middle. For a while, I walked around snooping out what I could. Mayhem was a simple beast. His walk-in closet held kilts and boots and a ten-inch black collar with white engravings that read: Touch me and die. I rose on my toes and picked up the collar. These beasts made some fine leather, I thought. If Maurice saw me in this thing, he’d think I’d paired with Mayhem. Hmm. I took the collar and walked back to the bedroom. The walls were beige, the pelts served as bedding, and the books were stacked against the wall opposite a fireplace. Simple.

I paced the room, feeling a bit trapped. Was I supposed to sit around and wait for him? Probably. I didn’t want to anger him, seeing as he could hurt me even though he seemed to have enjoyed what we’d done yesterday. I turned the doorknob. Locked. I counted, walking around, did some stretches, thinking about yesterday. He could’ve done what he wanted. Instead, he’d given me what I wanted.

Collar in hand, I flung it, did a back flip, and ended up an inch from the wall. Damn, that was close. I caught the collar between my teeth.

The wall opened.

I looked around and stood to walk the short hallway back into the jewelry room, where I found clothes, fully aware I should probably go to the other walled-in door and into the adjacent room where Lore had dropped me off yesterday. But I didn’t know how to open these wall-doors. Besides, I figured if I was here risking my life, I better do it in style.

And whoever this room was intended for had style.

I picked up a bright pink dress with long sleeves and a deep cleavage. I put it on along with some leather boots and a cute leather jacket. Then I twirled in front of the mirror. An off thought came across my mind. I wondered—briefly!—if Mayhem would like this outfit or if he’d spank me for dressing instead of walking around naked. His room and then this room and the other room were all connected. Though I wasn’t a student of architecture or a student of anything, really, it seemed as if these three rooms were some sort of family quarters.

I wondered if he’d get upset I’d stolen clothes and earrings and the leather collar he didn’t want anyone to touch. I probably should’ve left the collar in his closet. I wondered if stealing it warranted a spanking. Spankings seemed to get his engines going. Seeing as I didn’t mind what started up his engines, I decided getting spanked by Mayhem was an acceptable price to pay and something I shouldn’t suffer through but rather try to enjoy.

A misfortune could be a fortune in disguise, Mike used to say. Not always, but most times when we believed we’d been struck by horrible luck, we’d been stuck by greatness, and it wasn’t until later we’d see the truth. I hoped this ordeal was one of the former, a fortune in disguise.

Peep!

I flung the collar on the bed and turned to the window.

The dove I’d seen yesterday chattered. I opened the window, and she stayed. She must be someone’s pet, since doves normally feared humans. Or she’d grown hungry in the winter months and was trying to secure a human friend. A beggar. Kinda like me back when my parents had left me. Homeless, desperate, and begging for food.

At the thought of food, my stomach growled. I needed to find something to eat. I went to the door. The dove peeped again. I turned back, and she gave me that side-eye only a bird can give. I took the bird and brought her to my chest. “Are you a hungry bird? Is that why you’re coming around here?”

She didn’t answer, of course, and so I patted her feathers before setting her back out the window. And that was when I saw a small piece of paper attached to her leg.

No way. I’m seeing shit.

I bent at the waist to see better. It was a paper. A messenger bird? I paled. Only one person would send me messages via pigeon. Maurice. I picked up the bird again and took the message, then set the dove back on the balcony. She didn’t fly away. Was I supposed to write back? I read the paper. Fresh Market. Noon.