Page 6 of Beau and the Beast

“Ryan, call 9-1-1,” she called back into the penthouse, still struggling for a breath. “We’ll get him downstairs.”

Violet moved a few steps ahead of them, pressing the elevator button. Something was wrong—so wrong with her, with Wolfram.

My heart isn’t beating.

The last thing Violet remembered before she collapsed was the look on her boss’s face, suspended between James and Song, as two ugly, black horns erupted from Wolfram’s forehead.

Chapter Two

"When wasthe last time you slept?"

"I don't know,” Noah said, sighing deeply. “Am I seriously supposed to be keeping track of stuff like that?"

Beau made his way around his brother's cluttered room with a trash bin, picking up discarded cans and bottles, gathering dirty plates. The room was a sty.

"You shouldn'thaveto keep track of stuff like that," Beau pointed out. "Most people sleep often enough that they can actually recall it."

Noah laughed and waved him away.

"Anyway, you need to come see this."

Beau gave in, setting the trash on the floor next to the stack of dishes. He joined Noah at one of his brother's three computer monitors, placing a hand on his back. He noted the fact that he could feel every one of Noah's bones and made a mental reminder to start cooking meals with more fat in them. If Noah was going to insist on keeping such ridiculous hours and working around the clock, the least Beau could do was to keep him well fed.

"Ok, so, check this out," Noah said, clicking on a video.

The screen showed what looked like security footage. It displayed a dark scene with a few abstract planes of color that Beau couldn't make heads or tails of.

"What am I looking at?" Beau asked.

"This is security footage from just outside the penthouse at 330 West."

"Shit," Beau said. He didn’t recognize the specific address but knew the area was a beyond-pricey midtown neighborhood.

The timestamp at the bottom right corner of the video screen sped by but nothing else about the screen changed.

"So... you have some compelling footage of a hallway at night?" Beau teased.

"Just keep watching."

Suddenly, there was movement at the bottom left of the screen. Something tracked across, just barely out of view of the camera. Two curling shapes.

"What was that?"

"Just wait dude," Noah said. "Keep watching."

A moment later, the shapes were back. It appeared to be two dark horns that swept forward and around an animal’s large head before tapering to points. It looked like a ram's head, but the footage was grainy. The shape came further into view, plodding slowly.

Definitely not a ram.

It was someone in a costume—a very well-done one from what Beau could tell. The figure had long hair that flowed around the curling horns and a broad back, covered in fur maybe or cloaked by some odd garment. There was nothing in the frame that gave Beau a firm scale, but it seemed to belargewhatever it was supposed to be.

The figure stood just halfway in the frame, shoulders and head in view, turning its head slowly from side to side as if looking for something. It never turned to face the camera. He—or she, Beau thought, though that was unlikely because of the sheer size of them—spun and went back out of the frame without showing their face to the camera.

"What the hell was that?"

"Right?" Noah said, delighted. "What the fuck, right? Like whatisthat."

"Somebody in a costume," Beau said.

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