Page 36 of Beast

My stomach rumbled as if it were telling me to stop being so paranoid and just eat. Besides, I had no idea how long Tomaswould be gone or before someone else showed up. I was starving, and having no energy from not eating wasn’t going to help me figure out what to do next.

Tomas said he wasn’t going to hurt me that we were mates, but I didn’t know if I believed that yet.

What if he was wrong?

What if they planned to kill us both?

I shook my head, grabbing a plate from the cabinet. I had to find out more about what all of this meant. It was a world I never knew existed until now. And for some crazy reason I couldn’t explain, I believed Tomas wouldn’t hurt me. He was coming back. In the meantime, I would have roast chicken and potatoes. I would enjoy a nice glass of wine while waiting for Tomas to return. And fucking pray he returned soon—before someone else showed up to finish the job he refused to do.

15

BEAST

Exiting the airplane, my eyes fixed on the city skyline in the distance. I climbed into the taxi and willed traffic to go faster. I had to reach the city in time and negotiate a meeting with her father.

He had gotten mixed up in some dangerous business and the mafia wanted to make an example by killing Natalia. Now I was racing against the clock to reach him before it was too late.

The city sparkled like a jewel in the late morning light. Most of the people were oblivious that the mafia lived among them.

I exited the taxi, giving a huge tip. My heart pounded in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I had no idea what I was going to do once I reached the city, but I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let anyone hurt her.

I bolted through the streets, my feet pounding the pavement as I searched for his home. Wasn’t like he sent out invitations to rival mafia leaders, but I had a general idea of where he might be.

Best place to find someone is the local bar. I went to one with a hooker leaning against the brick wall.

“Wanna go to my place?” she asked, her face lighting up.

“No, thanks.” I handed her a fifty-dollar bill. “Any Russians drink here?”

She stuffed the money into her bra with a wink but shook her head. “I’ve heard some of your comrades in the bar on Fifth Street.”

“Thank you.” I walked in that direction.

Five minutes later, I stepped into the dimly lit bar, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of someone who might know how I could find Natalia’s father.

The bar smelled like old booze, sweat, and cigarettes. The bartender was a skinny guy with an ominous glare and a mop of red hair.

I approached a group of rough-looking men huddled around a table in the corner, their hushed whispers and furtive glances telling me they had something to hide.

I pulled up a chair and sat down, my hand instinctively drifting to the gun tucked into my waistband.

“I’m looking for someone,” I said, my voice low and menacing. “Vladimir Mikhailov. Any of you know where I can find him?”

The men looked at each other nervously, their eyes flitting back and forth as they weighed their options. Finally, one of them spoke up. “We don’t know anything,” he said, his voice quavering slightly. “Go bother someone else.”

I didn’t believe them for a second. I could tell they were hiding something, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. I leaned in closer and my eyes narrowed.

“I don’t believe you,” I growled, letting my wolf add power to my words. “I think you know exactly where he is, and I’m not leaving until you tell me where.”

The men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their nerves clearly getting the better of them. But before they could respond, one of them let out a bellow of rage and lunged at me, hisfist connecting with my jaw and sending me sprawling to the ground.

I hit the floor hard, my head ringing from the blow. But I wasn’t about to let these thugs get the better of me, and I knew how to fight dirty. I rolled to my feet and launched myself at the man and throat-punched him.

The bar erupted into chaos as the other men joined the fray, chairs, and bottles flying as the fight raged on. One of themen tried to get up to his knees when I grabbed him by his greasy neck and shook him like a rag doll.

“Tell me where Vladimir is,” I said.

He spat in my face. ThenI pulledhisarmback and snapped it like a desiccated branch.

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