Page 258 of Psycho Beasts

“Probably,” I said.

Suddenly, the doors opened behind us, and Warren entered. “You need to bring the brothers to the don immediately. He’s at the high table directly across the dance floor.”

“Don’t tell us what to do,” Cobra snapped at him, and Jax growled with agreement.

“Why did you have to come with us?” I asked as I glared at him. “I thought your role was to be a perverted ferret.”

Warren sighed heavily and dragged his hands through his hair. “I told you, I was assigned by the don to protect the girls. It’s my first mission.” His annoyingly sparkly skin glistened as he sent a boyishly pitiful glance at the girls.

“How old did you say you were?” I asked.

“Eighteen,” he mumbled as he focused on his shoes. “I just shifted.”

“Oh cool, I’m also eighteen. I’m going to get tested soon.” Jess beamed at him like she’d just made a friend.

“And I’m sixteen, Jala’s fourteen, and Jinx is twelve,” Lucinda supplied helpfully as she also smiled at the boy like she was smitten.

I shared a glance with the men. None of us liked how much the girls were fawning over him.

We had to kill him.

Warren had the decency to look embarrassed as he said, “I know. The don was worried about your safety.”

Lucinda had the audacity to giggle and bat her eyelashes at him.

I opened my mouth to give my sister the sex talk, and the all-men-are-trash talk, when a beta with a gun in his waistband and sunglasses cleared his throat. “The don will see you now.”

Cobra and Xerxes charged ahead, dragging the brothers across the dance floor as shifters continued to twirl around us, completely unconcerned by the violence.

My skin prickled.

The beast realm was a terrifying place.

We came to a stop in front of a raised dais, where the don lounged casually in a golden chair.

He had a cigarette in his lips, betas with guns surrounding him for protection, and a bored expression on his face.

‘The Ortega brothers,” Cobra sneered as he kicked one of the limp bodies on the ground. “They’re still alive. Mostly.”

The don kept smoking his cigarette but didn’t say anything.

Clarissa walked up to stand beside us, a bloodied man limping behind her in cuffs.

She fluttered her eyes coyly at the men and gave me a death glare before turning to the don. “Here’s Carle Fruya, the beta weapons dealer from the wanted list.”

The don said nothing.

Suddenly, six betas walked forward from seemingly out of nowhere.

“Please, I have contacts. I have an entire network I can give you,” Carle begged the don, his dark eyes frantic.

The betas pointed their guns at our prisoners.

Six pops rang out in synchrony.

They killed them all.

The music kept playing; the shifters kept twirling in their sparkly dresses, and the don didn’t even blink as he slowly smoked his cigarette.

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