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“Oh! You must come. There is a new establishment we are going to. Very fast for there is gambling.” Lady Mountview sparkled at Beatrice. “It would be lovely… Though perhaps our friends are a little more rowdy.”
As we’d agreed, Pax bowed out, claiming a headache. I understood his desire to keep his real mission secret, but watching Trix fuss over him had me flinch. We could be honest with her, at what cost, though? She’d asked us not to hunt him down, yet that was precisely what we were doing.
The party took place in a place like the Hell but open to betas and omegas. Some musician was playing on a harpsichord—aiming more for volume than any discernible melody—and a group sang a sea shanty in a discordant harmony.
“I hate this,” I muttered. “There is less chaos on a battlefield.”
“We don’t have to stay long… Perhaps we shouldn’t have accepted.” Trix seemed more amused than desperate to leave. “I prefer a ballroom. That is an organised chaos. This the thing in its most pure form.”
“I would have thought you loved that.” I moved myself behind her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her tight against my body.
“Only when I had you to pull me back.” She arched and her bottom rubbed into my cock.
“You are such a cock tease,” I hissed in her ear.
She twisted in my arms. “Jack… Tod. I love you and your cock is mine. If I choose to tease it–”
“Learning bedroom talk, Trix?”
“From the best. But Jack, I do. Love you I mean.”
“You choose in this chaos to profess your undying love?” I teased.
“Alpha… I am warning you… If you continue in this manner, I might have to convince you to find a dark corner and knot me.”
Another partier pushed past us in the crush and we turned into each other, laughing as if we were much younger and far more innocent than we were.
“Oh Goddess.” Trix shrank into me, her scent bitter and body trembling. “It’s him. No. Don’t. Don’t spook him. He will run if you…”
“Of course.” I hated that she was correct. If I spun around, Stimpson might flee and then we’d lose him again. “Tell me. Do you recognise who he is talking to?”
“No. No. I can’t see. I’m too short.”
“How can you see him?” I asked.
“The mirror behind you. Oh, he is looking over here.” Something came over her. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him. We can go to Scotland. Ireland. The continent. I do not care if we have to flee this country to escape prosecution, I am going to kill him.”
“No, Trix. Describe the person he is talking to.”
“Oh, no… No… Please…”
“What?”
“It is Eliza!”
I turned then. How could I not? Stimpson was gone, but Eliza Brown was sipping champagne with her arm around a beta I did not recognise.
“Please take me home.”
Not bothering to find the Mountviews, I swept Beatrice out onto the street. Given the stricken look on her face, there was no time to flag down a Hackney, so I determined we would walk for Curzon Street was not so far from St James’.
Pax was already back when we arrive and his frown only deepened when he saw how Beatrice clung to me.
“The nest,” she said softly, and we hurried her up the stairs, our instincts crying out to comfort our distressed omega.
