Page 30 of Beast

A warm tongue licks at my face.

“Oh, you are not getting off that easily, love. We are goingto have a serious discussion about this whole First thing. If I’m the First,then I get to decide if you’re going to run off and try to kill reallydisgusting things. I think my spine is crushed,” I complain.

It’s not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t ache. And it’s morethan my muscles. Something is definitely wrong with me. Seeing Kaja in dangerbroke me. I can’t make my heart stop racing. I can’t seem to come down. I needsomething.

I need her.

I begin to force myself off the ground. I need a long bath.Since Cara owes me her life, I’m not going to feel guilty about asking her toset it up. I’ll get the stink of ogre off of me and then settle down to have along discussion with Kaja about what it means to be my wife. Beck has the rightidea. I’ll make sure Kaja’s backside is red, and then I’ll fuck her until sheforgets there was ever a time when I wasn’t shoving my cock inside her pussy.

Then maybe I’ll calm down.

Kaja whimpers, her nose nuzzling me.

“It won’t work, Kaj,” I say. “You can’t turn those puppyeyes on me and expect that all will be forgiven. You disobeyed. You put me andMeg and yourself at risk. You’re going to have to take your punishment.”

I never wanted to punish anyone before. I’m a good-time guy.If a chick doesn’t do what I think she should, I leave.

I can’t leave Kaja. I can’t walk away this time. She looksat me with those same eyes I claimed won’t move me. She’s alone in the world.She doesn’t have anyone except me.

I bring my hand up to give her a pet, to let her know that Ican be mad at her and not leave her, when she growls. The sound comes from deepin her throat. Her spine straightens, and she seems to focus on something.

“I would have your dog heel, Mr. Dellacourt.” A properBritish voice fills the courtyard now. I look up to see a group of vampires ingray-and-green fatigues.

“What the hell is this?” I push up to my knees. I stare atthe group of ten mercenaries. They appear well armed, with swords and Taserunits at the ready. Where the hell were they when I needed them? “You’re lateto the party, boys.”

I move to reach for the gun, which has fallen behind me, butKaja is quicker. She covers it with her body and lays down, head on her paws.

“Kaj?” I ask, not understanding what she’s doing.

Kaja barks as though trying to tell me something, but she’sforgotten I don’t speak wolf.

“I think we’re right on time, Mr. Dellacourt,” the leadersays. “Bring her.”

I get to my feet as two soldiers lead Meg toward me. She’ssafe and whole, and tied up with a gag in her mouth. She fights against hercaptors, but they’re bigger and meaner. “What the hell is going on?”

“A successful operation, Mr. Dellacourt,” the leader says.“We have the queen and you, and soon we shall have the rebel kings, and tradewill flow between the Seelie and Vampire planes once more. I admit, I ratherthought the ogre would kill you. Would you like to explain how you managed totake it down?”

This is bad. This is way worse than the ogre.

Beck is going to kill me.

“Fuck you, mercenary,” I shoot back. Kaja is covering theonly weapon we have. Smart girl, my wife. And they have no idea she’s anythingbut a pet.

“Yes, I heard you would be trouble.”

The leader gives a signal with his hand, and a large,righteously ugly dude steps up. I can bet what’s coming and try to hold up myhands in the universally acknowledged sign for “don’t send ten thousandkilowatts of pure electricity through my body.”

“I’m not going to be trouble,” I lie.

But the Taser flares and sinks into my flesh. I hold on asmy body spasms, and I fall back to the ground.

My last thought is of Kaja and those blue eyes.

ChapterTwelve

Chalen Palgrave

I stare at the monitor with something akin tohappiness. I would never allow myself actual happiness because emotion wouldprove something my father has always said about me. That I am undisciplined.Perhaps as a child, but he thoughtfully beat the weakness out of me and now andI am nothing if not disciplined. But still, the sight of Dante Dellacourt lyingon the dirt floor, his perfect hair a mess, brings a bit of joy to my heart.Dante’s hands are tied behind his back, and he lies at an angle that would surelybe painful if he was awake.