Page 85 of Psycho Alphas: Part Two
“Ah,” Ace said, peering through a partly open door. “We’ve found him.”
I glanced through the door after him.
Across the living room, past pool tables, and side tables laden with glasses and liquor, I saw a man with his feet kicked up on a gilded couch, reading a paper and sipping a hot drink.
He looked perhaps mid-forties, with a few flecks of age in his dark hair which was drawn up in a ponytail, and he had a neat goatee on his chin.
I drew back, letting Rogue peer after me, then turned back to Ace.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
Ace looked… disappointed, I thought. “Roman Vane. You know, it could be worse.”
“Is he dangerous?” Rogue asked as he stepped back.
Ace snorted. “Not in the slightest. He’s a vulture. Collector. Likes stolen treasures.”
“So… what’s the plan?” I said. “The house is in his name, I?—”
But he didn’t let me finish, instead shoving open the door and waltzing in.
Because of course he did.
Rolling my eyes, I followed, gun drawn.
Roman lurched to his feet as the door opened, drink clattering to the floor and his hand shot for what I couldonly presume was a gun at his waist. He froze mid-movement, however, as he caught sight of Ace.
Even from this distance, I could see the blood drain from his skin.
“Maverick…?” he asked, his voice cracking.
What I noticed distinctly as we entered was a shadow of movement in the hallway that led into the room. It was on the opposite side from us, but I saw the movement of two figures, maybe more.
Security?
But they didn’t enter, as if they were waiting.
And I knew what for.
They wouldn’t intervene until it became clear who they would do best supporting.
Me and Rogue, on the other hand, were stuck with the idiot sauntering in with nothing but a sceptre dragging on the marble floor. Without a choice, we’d both trained our weapons on Roman Vane.
Just like bodyguards.
For Thistle, I reminded myself.Not this giant prick.
I couldn’t help but glance at Rogue quickly. He had matched me, but he looked more curious than annoyed.
Apparently, I did have an ounce more pride than him.
“Roman Vane,” Ace drawled. “How… unsurprising, if a little disappointing.”
I was trying to pull up any scrap of information I might know about this man. I wasn’t in the same circles as Ace had been, but some did cross, yet I pulled up nothing from memory.
Roman was an Alpha. Now we were in the room I could properly catch his scent of elderberries. It had been lingering about these halls, though faint enough I hadn’t been able to name it until now.
“Disappointing?” Roman asked, still trying to keep the quiver from his voice. His hand was still on the gun, but he hadn’t drawn it. Again, his eyes slid nervously to the hallway, but there was no further movement from his security.
