Chapter 28 Nature of the Beast
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nature of the Beast
“Daisy!” A tribute yelled from across the great hall.
Daisy’s face transformed as recognition sparked in her eyes. “Maggie!” The name left her lips with the desperate relief of someone finding land after days at sea.
A dark-haired woman in a muddied dress rushed out of the thinning crowd. They collided in a fierce embrace. Their laughter cut through the low hum of the emptying ballroom, and something loosened in Jack’s chest.
She had someone. Good. She would need people in her life who understood fragments of this night in ways others never could.
“A word?”
Jack turned. Ash Volkov stood a few meters away, hands clasped behind his back, his tuxedo still immaculate despite the carnage around them.
Hunter loomed just beyond, arms folded across his barrel chest, his scarred knuckles wrapped around a glass of vodka he didn’t appear to be drinking so much as brandishing.
Jack’s hand slipped from Daisy’s back as he stepped toward the brothers, her attention momentarily pulled to her friend.
“Gentlemen,” Jack nodded, giving them his divided attention.
“Congratulations are in order,” Ash said, his voice deceptively mild beneath the sharp edges of his accent. “Another successful Feast. For the most part.”
Hunter grunted. The qualifier hung between them like smoke.
“The tributes seem satisfied,” Ash continued, ignoring his brother. “Early numbers suggest this may be the highest grossing year yet.”
Jack’s gaze drifted across the wreckage of the ballroom.
Overturned glasses. Trampled flowers browning at the edges.
Napkins ground into marble like confetti from a parade no one asked for.
The chandelier light exposed everything the evening tried to conceal.
Stains on tablecloths. Scuff marks gouged into the floor.
The faint, sweet rot of champagne pooling in places no one bothered to mop.
The morning after always told the truth the party tried to bury.
“I expect you’ll want to hold the date for next year?” Ash asked.
Jack hesitated. He thought of Daisy’s words but also Hadrian Welles. The Feast only worked if the hunters respected the rules of the game. And every year, the line between theatre and cruelty thinned.
“Let me clear my head and get back to you.”
The brothers exchanged a glance but Ash nodded. “Of course. Take whatever time you need.”
He reached into his breast pocket and produced something small, glinting dull gold under the candlelight. “I believe you were looking for this.”
It took a second for Jack to realize what it was. Daisy’s locket.
He took it from Ash, closing it in a protective but gentle fist. Tarnished and dented, the thin chain kinked in several places, the clasp bent but intact.
It looked like nothing. A trinket from a pawn shop worth less than the drink in Hunter’s hand, yet somehow worth more than everything in this room.
“Where was it found?”
“South gardens. On the path, not far from where Welles had her pinned.”
Ash studied Jack with quiet curiosity but didn’t press. He never pressed. That was what made the youngest Volkov dangerous. He observed first and acted later.
“Thank you.” Jack tucked the locket into his breast pocket, feeling the slight weight settle against his chest. He glanced back at Daisy, still animated with her friend, bright and open in a way that made him love her that much more.
Would she look just as happy when he returned the locket? He wanted to find out. Didn’t want to wait, but also didn’t want to share that moment with so many strangers still lingering about.
He smiled as she laughed again with her friend. Let her have this.
“There’s also the matter of Hadrian Welles,” Hunter said, his voice gravel and glass. “Next step is your call.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “I’ll deal with him on my own time. Send him home.”
Hunter’s dark brow lifted. “Perhaps with a referral to a good dentist, da?” The ghost of a smile cracked on his scarred face.
Ash’s lips twitched. “He will not be flashing that arrogant smile any time soon.”
“Nyet,” Hunter grunted, the closest sound the man had to a laugh. “You want to explain why Peter Pangbourne is also locked in a holding room?”
Jack’s molars ground tight. He’d acted on jealous instinct, not protocol. Peter hadn’t broken any rules. Watching him put his hands on Daisy made Jack see red, but he hadn’t violated his contract.
Detaining him was personal, and the Volkovs knew it.
“Send him home.” The words tasted of rust. “Let him be his fiancée’s problem.”
Ash arched a brow but said nothing.
A burst of shrill laughter erupted across the hall as a tribute slammed into Daisy and her friend, her jubilant voice carrying above the remaining crowd with the subtlety of a foghorn.
“There you two are!” the tribute yelled in a brass American accent.
Daisy’s face split into a grin as the three of them huddled together, the American gesturing wildly, her crimson dress clinging to her frame through what appeared to be sheer force of personality.
“The cleanup will take a full day, at minimum,” Ash said, pulling Jack’s attention back. “The grounds are wrecked. Torches toppled. Two cabanas collapsed. The reflecting pool has a full tuxedo floating in it. And someone drove a golf cart into the south fountain.”
“The fountain’s marble,” Hunter muttered.
“Add it to my bill,” Jack said, gaze distracted by Daisy’s stunned face as the American rambled on then disappeared as quickly as she arrived.
Something in her expression shifted. Softer. More serious. She glanced in his direction and he quickly looked away before she caught him staring, pretending to be engrossed in whatever Ash was saying.
His capacity for people had a shallow floor, and he’d hit it. The only company he wanted was Daisy. But he didn’t want to come on too strong. Now that the hunt was over, she was free to come and go as she pleased.
What if she changed her mind about staying with him?
Paranoia crept in, quiet and insidious, threading through his ribs like wire tightening around bone.
Almost every relationship he’d ever known had been a performance of care that seized and broke the moment he stopped being useful, curdling into atrocity.
She saw his scars, even some of the less physical ones. But daylight changed things. Reality had teeth and they were slowly sinking in.
“Jack.” Ash’s voice cut through.
Jack turned back to the brothers, no longer able to focus on things that could easily be summarized in an email on Monday. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
Hunter frowned. “I think our comrade is still hunting.”
Ash chuckled. “As I was saying…”
The brunette Daisy had been talking to was heading for the doors.
Jack’s stomach dropped when he looked back and found the place they’d been standing empty. He scanned the hall.
Stragglers clustered near the entrance.
A few hunters nursed drinks by the fountain.
Staff cleared tables with quiet efficiency.
“Excuse me.” He stepped away from Ash mid-sentence. Didn’t explain. Didn’t apologize.
“The suite is yours as long as you need it,” Ash called after him.
Jack nodded without turning back. He moved through the emptying ballroom, his stride lengthening with each step. He rounded the base of the staircase and nearly collided with Vanessa.
“Jack.” She stood on the lower landing, her posture as composed as always. “Compliments on another fabulous Feast. From what I hear, it will be the highest-grossing yet.”
“Thank you. Have you seen Daisy?”
“Your sweet little fawn?” Her lips curved. “She told me to tell you she’d meet you in your suite.”
Relief surged through him so fast it bordered on vertigo. She stayed. She was waiting. She didn’t leave.
He moved past Vanessa toward the stairs, but her hand found his sleeve. Light. Deliberate.
“Jack.” Her voice lost its social warmth and settled into something maternal. Honest. “She’s a sweet one. Brave and strong-willed enough to actually challenge you.” She met his eyes with the steady certainty of a woman who’d spent decades reading men the way others read weather. “Be good to her.”
“Of course.” He casually pulled his arm out of reach. “Take care, Vanessa.”
He took the stairs two at a time.
The upper corridor stretched before him, silent and dim. He knew this lodge by heart from years of restless pacing while the hunts unfolded below.
He turned left where most would go right, cutting through the service passage behind the library, past the locked linen closets and the narrow stairwell the staff used to move unseen between floors.
His footsteps struck bare stone, quick and purposeful, before the passage opened into the carpeted corridor leading to his suite.
The door was closed, but he’d given her the key. Punching in the code, the handle unlocked.
“Daisy?”
Silence.
The fire had burned to ash. The bed was unmade, sheets twisted, pillows bearing the impression of where she’d slept. The balcony doors stood open, curtains shifting in the early breeze. Golden light stretched across the floor in long, warm pools.
She wasn’t there.
“Daisy?”
He checked the balcony. Empty. The dressing room. The bathroom. Nothing.
His pulse climbed. The lodge was a labyrinth to anyone unfamiliar with it. Corridors branched, and doors opened to wings that dead-ended without warning. She might have gotten lost.
Jack left the suite and took the route she would have taken from the staircase. He wound through the long gallery with its arched windows and hunting paintings, his instinct spiking to a sense of urgency as he saw that many of the lanterns had been turned down.
His pace quickened to something just short of a run. The corridor stretched before him, leaving pools of shadow between the remaining light. His footsteps hammered the floor in a hard, metered rhythm that stumbled at a scream.
“Daisy!” Jack ran.
He tore around the corner, his dress shoes skidding on the polished floor. Another scream, closer now, strangled into something wet and desperate that clawed beneath his skin and wrapped around his spine.
The gallery opened before him, the first fingers of dawn slicing through the arched windows in pale blades. And there, on the floor, was Daisy on her back and a dead man holding her down.
A sharp, piercing ringing detonated inside Jack’s skull. Every sound in the corridor collapsed into that single, unbearable frequency. His vision narrowed to a burning point as he reached behind him—
—The ringing was still there. Piercing. Shrill. Deafening.
It filled his skull, vibrating through his teeth and jaw, melding with her growing scream.
He was on his knees.
He didn’t know how he got there.
His lungs heaved in ragged, animal bursts. His shirt was soaked. Not sweat. Warmer. Thick.
The gun was on the floor.
His forearms locked as someone held him back.
But it was too late. Tannh?user lay dead on the floor.
“Close off the floor!”
The ringing in his ears faded until all he could hear was her screams.
Blood bloomed dark and wet across Tannh?user’s chest. His face destroyed.
Collapsed. Pulverized to raw meat.
He didn’t remember pulling the trigger.
Hunter locked Jack’s slick arms behind his back in an unbreakable iron hold.
“Relax, comrade.” Hunter’s breath was steady against the back of Jack’s skull. “Nothing you can do now.”
Jack jerked and thrashed, but he couldn’t break free.
Screaming. She was screaming.
“Let go!”
“Nyet.” He forcefully jerked Jack back as he tried to go to her. “Be still.”
Her screams fractured, dissolving into jagged sobs that splintered into hyperventilation. The sound gutted him, driving him to his knees, but Hunter still wouldn’t let go.
She cowered in the corner. Cole angled his body as a barrier between her and the carnage on the floor. Feet planted wide as he shouted into a radio.
Her destroyed dress hung from one shoulder, bare chest streaked with blood.
Not hers.
Don’t let it be hers.
Her screams wilted into guttural, hitching sobs as she covered her eyes.
Blood misted the floor and walls.
The ringing in his skull swelled. His vision swam.
“Daisy.” Her name cracked in his throat like dry wood splitting.
She couldn’t hear him. Wouldn’t look at him.
Ash stepped over the carnage and crouched before her. “Come with me, little rabbit.”
She looked up at him, not Jack, clear terror written in her eyes.
Ash took her hand and slowly helped her stand. He adjusted the strap of her dress and waved someone over.
“Vanessa. Take her to a guest room. Don’t leave her side.”
“Come with me, little darling. That’s it.”
Where are they taking her?
“I have to go—” Jack’s words cut off as Hunter jerked him back.
She didn’t look back.
Jack lunged. Hunter’s arms crushed tighter, absorbing the full force of his thrashing like a stone wall absorbs a storm. A grating sound ripped from his throat that had no language in it. Hunter didn’t budge. Didn’t speak. Just restrained him as he watched them take her away.
Jack threw himself forward. His voice cracked into something raw and wordless as his chest split open.
Ash straightened and turned to Cole. “See that this is cleaned up and handled.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ash adjusted his cuff and didn’t look at the body again. “The doctor wasn’t feeling well. Had to leave before dawn.”
Cole’s jaw tightened. “Understood.”
Tremors wracked Jack’s frame in rolling waves.
“Breathe, comrade,” Hunter said quietly. “What is done cannot be undone.”
Jack stared at the empty wall where she’d been huddled. His eyes zeroed in on the faint smear of blood.
She didn’t look back.
She didn’t look back.
She didn’t look back.