Chapter Twenty-Two
All dressed up and nowhere to go. Well, not quite. Griffin wished he had nowhere to go, painfully aware they would be arriving at the party in mere minutes.
“You’re clear on what you need to do?” Virgil asked.
“Crystal,” Griffin replied. They’d gone over it enough times that the instructions were burned into his brain. “Find Nathan Beaumont, flirt, get asked back to his rooms. Drug him with the powder, grab the notebook, and make my exit.”
A simple job. Well, difficult in a thousand tiny ways but simple in concept.
“And we’re here,” Antoine said as they came to a stop. The driver got out and opened the door. Antoine stepped out first, Griffin following him, and Virgil right behind.
Griffin didn’t want to think what he looked like. His pants might as well have been painted on, they were that tight. His shirt was made of silk but gossamer, like a gold-spun spiderweb. It glittered as he moved. He’d been at parties like this before. He knew the role he had to play. The clothes were just the start.
“You remember what Nathan looks like?” Virgil asked.
They’d only shown him his picture half a dozen times.
“I remember. Hard to forget a face that handsome.”
The alpha smiled indulgently at him. “You always did appreciate a pretty face.”
He grabbed Griffin’s wrist, squeezing hard. “Mess this up and you won’t be the only one suffering the consequences.”
Griffin didn’t bother replying. Message received.
They got inside, Virgil and Antoine stepping away and leaving him to it. Griffin did a slow circle of the room, drawing more than a few eyes as he walked. He’d already seen a map of the layout, knew where everything was, from the guest bathrooms to Nathan Beaumont’s bedroom. But security was tight at an event like this and access to the upper floor was restricted. The only way he was getting up there was in the arms of Nathan himself. Speaking of the alpha, Griffin caught sight of him with a glass of something expensive in his hands. He’d read the dossier Antoine had put together on the alpha. He wasn’t a champagne drinker, so the glass was likely filled with a vintage Merlot.
Working his way around the edge of the room, he took a glass of champagne from a waiter and positioned himself just opposite the alpha, waiting. He dipped his finger into the champagne, trailing it around the lip of his glass. It barely made a sound, but it was enough that a handful of alpha eyes were suddenly looking his way. Griffin glanced up, caught Nathan’s gaze, and gave the alpha a smile, quickly dropping his eyes demurely back to his glass. The alpha liked omegas who played shy and hard to get. He liked a chase. Not too hard a chase, mind. He just didn’t like to feel that an omega was throwing himself at him.
“And who might you be?” a voice murmured in his ear a moment later. Griffin could scent the Merlot on his breath.
“Robin,” he said softly, stealing a look up at the alpha and biting his lip.
“Well, aren’t you the sexiest doll in the room.”
“Do you like to play with dolls?” Griffin teased, taking a sip from his glass.
The alpha took the champagne from his hand, handing it off to a passing waiter.
“I’ve never seen a doll as beautiful as you.”
His fingers caught Griffin’s chin, nudging his head up. “Beautiful. Just exquisite.”
“And that’s just from the neck up,” he said, turning his head to the side, and letting his eyes roam down the alpha’s body.
Nathan’s fingers trailed down Griffin’s neck to his collar tugging his shirt down an inch. “I’d love to see what you’ve got. Is there someone I need to get permission from?”
Griffin shook his head with a smile, giving a small bow. “If you want me, I’m yours, Mr. Beaumont.”
“Nathan,” the alpha said, running a finger along Griffin’s jaw. “Call me Nathan. Or sir, if we’re in the bedroom.”
He took Griffin by the arm, leading him across the room.
“Is that where we’re going?” Griffin asked, letting his lips curl upward in a smile. “Your bedroom?”
He didn’t let himself think past the job he was doing. Not about Beau, not about Ronan, not about the pack. All that mattered was the job.
“You’ll love it,” Nathan said, his hand tightening possessively around Griffin’s arm. “The view is out of this world.”
The chains attached to Beau’s wrists and ankles clinked as he walked. He’d insisted on them despite opposition from Ronan, his brother, and Noah.
“The Beast is always chained. Always. They won’t believe it’s me otherwise,” he’d told them.
Eventually, they’d agreed.
The heavy weight felt as familiar as the clothes he wore. He was ready to fight, ready to get blood on his hands.
They were a group of four. Ronan, Mark, Noah, and Beau. Ronan’s brother had stayed behind in the pack, keeping guard in case there was trouble. Beau wasn’t sure what kind of trouble they were expecting, knowing only that the whole pack had been on edge since Griffin was taken.
“Are we all clear on the plan?” Ronan asked, going through it again before anyone answered. “We go in the side entrance with Beau and escort him down to the fighter’s area. Mark stays with him while Noah and I make our way upstairs to find Griffin. Beau, you’re scheduled to fight third, and if you win, you’ll fight again during the eighth match. It’s an anything goes fight, rules are practically non-existent.”
Beau knew what that usually meant. The spectators wanted to see blood, to see death. For the fighters, it was kill or be killed.
“If you decide you want out, signal Mark. We have a few tricks up our sleeves.”
He had no intention of putting Griffin’s rescue in jeopardy.
“No. You find Griffin. I’ll do my part.”
They got out of the car, handing the keys over to a valet who pointed them toward the side door. The house looked familiar.
“I’ve been here before,” Beau said quietly. “Twice.”
“Then you know the lay of the land. Anything we should know?”
“Fighting pits in the basement, party on the first floor, bedrooms on the second.”
He had personal experience of all three.
“Good to know. Here’s hoping we find Griffin before your second fight. We’ll pull you from the contest and make tracks.”
Once inside the door, they split up, Beau and Mark going downstairs. People moved out of Beau’s way as they passed, whispers and words following them along the corridor. He heard the word feral more than once. Clearly, word had got around.
They got a room to themselves to prepare.
“Are you ready for this?” Mark asked.
“My whole life has been about preparing for a fight.”
“Yeah, but these last few weeks, you’ve been living a very different life.”
Beau shrugged. “What’s a few weeks versus a lifetime?”
There was a TV screen in the room showing a view of the pit where the shifters fought. They watched the first fight and half the second before a knock on the door called them out to get ready.
“The chains come off right before the fight starts,” Beau said. “All of them. They like the fighters to be able to shift during a match like this.”
“Got it,” Mark said. “Um, Beau?”
He turned to the beta.
“What happens if you turn feral in the ring?”
“They’ll subdue me, drug me, and hand me back to you. It won’t be the first time they’ll have seen something like that.”
“Do you think that’s likely?”
Beau tried not to let his doubts get a hold. “I can do this. For Griffin.”