Page 41 of Their Lethal Pet
But he hadn’t tried to kill me.
Just wanted to take me to the Viscount.
Although, he did mention how my physical condition wouldn’t matter, that the Viscount just wanted my…
I shudder, unable to think of theterm. Because that isn’t something I want to give tohimor anyone else.
Well…I glance at the beautiful men around me.Well, maybe notanyoneelse. But…
I shake my head, trying to clear the inane thought from it, and immediately regret the action. A groan escapes my lips, my sense of balance instantly distorted.
Definitely hit my head too hard… Ugh.
I cover my eyes with my palms, my stomach suddenly churning with the need to purge whatever it can.
Only, I haven’t eaten in… I don’t know how long. And after all the preparations and walking and everything else, I’m justdone.
I’m tired.
I’m lost.
I’m confused.
And all I want to do is curl into a ball against the vibrating warmth beside me and forget everything.
Forget the Viscount.
Forget the train.
Forget the Choosing.
Forget Monsters Night.
Forget—
My eyes fly open.Monsters Night.
Apparently, I’d already forgotten about it, too wrapped up in this situation to think it through, but now…nowI understand.
“Monsters,” I breathe, my gaze swinging from the haunting one to the vibrating one to the bored one. “You’re monsters.”
I blink.
Oh, crap.
What the hell is wrong with me? I knew they weren’t human. The one has tattoos that basically melt off his body into smoky ribbons. The other has feathers andvibrates. And the third, well, actually he looks pretty normal. But he’s holding Timothy like he weighs nothing at all.
“You know, I take offense to that,” the haunting one informs me as the weapons vanish. “If anyone is amonsterhere, it’s that dark soul over there.” He points at Timothy. “I can practically taste all his sins, and trust me, he’s the definition ofmonstrous.”
“Monsters are what the humans call otherworldly beings in this realm, Reaper. I’m sure she’s not trying to insult you,” the vibrating one says softly. “Right, Alina?”
I snap my gaze to him, his black eyes rimmed with a reddish hue that’s distinctly inhuman.
“How do you know my name?” I ask, very aware that the question is pretty inconsequential compared to the many others I could ask. But it’s the second time he’s said my name, and I’d really like to understand how he knows it.
Those red-black eyes study me for a long momentbefore he says, “I saw you through a portal window and overheard someone else say your name.”
“A portal window?” I repeat, blinking at him.
