Page 101 of Psycho Beasts

I hit her again.

“Ow. Freakin’ relax with the beating, woman.”

“I’ll make sure she stops. Don’t worry,” I said with conviction. “I don’t know if that’s true, but I know that drugs mess with your brain and can become so addicting you can’t function properly. I won’t let that happen to her.”

I turned to Aran, who had bloodshot eyes and a lazy expression on her lips as she itched at her back.

She somehow still looked smug in the elegant bed.

Even under the covers, disguised with short hair and a wider, stockier male build, she looked down her nose at the room.

A purebred princess.

“But that doesn’t mean I will put up with you wasting away and acting like a coward!” I yelled at her and beat her with a pillow for good measure.

“Don’t hurt her too bad, sis,” Lucinda said quietly as the other girls disappeared down the hall.

Lucinda lingered at the door. “I know you have a lot going on,” she said as she shifted back and forth awkwardly. “Just know that I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”

My gut pinched. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?” I asked, feeling like something unspoken hung between us.

Lucinda shook her head. “No, just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, but Lucinda had turned around and left.

The door slammed behind her, and I focused my attention on the problem in the room.

Aran and I stared at each other for a long, drawn-out moment.

My chest heaved, and I dejectedly dropped the pillow with shaking hands.

I studied the long, glowing pipe I’d confiscated from her.

“So, going to explain what horrible evil is in this?” I fingered the cold, hard shaft.

“If you break it in half, it will send a strong message to the girls,” Aran said lazily as she spread her arms out wide like she didn’t have a care in the world.

I lifted the pipe and inspected it. “That would be the right thing to do.”

“Should I do it?” Aran asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes at her and took a long drag from the end.

The enchanted smoke burned a trail down my esophagus, and it felt like a fire was lit in my lungs as I blew out the bright-blue smoke.

Aran modulated her tone, so it resembled my scratchy, broken voice. “Drugs are bad and kill people.”

I settled into bed beside her and took another long draw. “Oh please, we’re the only female role models they have. Might as well pretend to not be degenerates.”

“It makes you feel nothing, and the world more hazyyyyy.” Aran took the pipe from my hand and took a long drag. “The smoke.”

“Thank fuck,” I mumbled and noted that the pressure on my chest and pain in my stomach were lessoning with each fiery inhale. “Where did you get it?”

“Walter.”

“I’m gonna free that amazing man from servitude,” I promised as I snuggled against Aran.

Aran turned to me with a critical expression, taking in my haggard appearance. “How are you doing?”

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