Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

“What is wrong with you?” I pushed him. When that did nothing to sway him, I pushed him again, and again, and again. He gripped me by the wrists then let go. “It’s not enough to take a piece of my heart, you have to obliterate it?” I fell to my knees. I’d tried so hard to stay strong, or at least put up the front. Why was he doing this? Why give me a kitten and then take it away faster than a lightning strike?

First Papa and now this? My heart couldn’t take it.

Nikolai walked away with the mewling kitten as I wiped mascara eyes on my forearm.

“You’re an absolute monster,” I declared. “Is this why you were so nice to me before? Is this why you wanted to know about me? I bet you didn’t even want to give me that kitten. You just wanted to watch me cry.” My eyes were blurry with tears when I looked up at him. “Well congratulations. You succeeded.” My words sounded strangled and weird to my own ears, cracked, high and wobbly; choked by the effort of trying not to completely lose myself to sobs. His eyes narrowed with some kind of emotion. I thought maybe he was going to say something, but then he left. I fell into sobs.

“Your mascara is smeared, darling,” a woman said to me, her face a megawatt plastic smile. “I have a cloth in my bag that can clear that right up.” She grasped me by the arm and led me away from my dark corner—my haven. My stare strayed from her coiffed blonde hair down to her polished blood-red nails and back up to the pristine white dress she wore.

I wanted to tell her I didn’t care if my mascara was smeared, but I was too numb. Over and over again I thought about that kitten. Would it go to another home? Maybe it would go to wherever Cleary was. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, smearing the mascara more. Wherever the black cat went, it was better than where I was. Cute and cuddly things weren’t meant for hell.

No, I didn’t care that my mascara was smeared.

It was my war paint.

No one would bother me.

From my perch in the corner, I had been able to see everything and no one noticed me. Beast’s stark white penthouse had been decorated to look like a winter wonderland. A huge, real Christmas tree was erect in the middle of it all, jutting up the three stories. Distantly I wondered how they got the thing inside the building, all the way up to the fucking penthouse. It was decorated with white ornaments and the branches appeared frosted. Angels, snowflakes, shimmering bulbs, ornaments that appeared to be dotted with diamonds—oh wait, this was the Beast we were talking about, they probably were dotted with diamonds—and ethereal tinsel draped it. Pale gold was the only other color in the place, and it was just an accent.

There was even a swing band. It was so happy, the trombone and saxophone all cheerful and lively. It felt wrong, like having a bris at a funeral. The singer, a woman with a twenties-style outfit and hairdo, was singing classic Christmas music. Everyone was also wearing white—a memo that Beast had apparently been determined for me to miss.

Mostly I saw how this wasn’t the kind of party I’d become accustomed to. These weren’t the people Beast normally had over. They didn’t have a cloud of shadow following them constantly. They weren’t reanimated gargoyles.

They were…people.

They were…political, even. I recognized the governor as one of the attendants, and that made me very, very uneasy.

The woman pulled me to the wall next to the bar. While she dug into her purse, I swiped a flute of champagne. Taking a swig, I looked from her to the governor and thought back to the other “parties” I’d been present at, unsure which hell I preferred.

“Is this your first fundraiser?” she asked, dabbing away the remnants of the Beast’s “present” from my lids. I nodded. She laughed, putting the cloth back into her purse. “They can be quite tedious. I’m Ellie, Governor Dubois’s wife. Who should we blame for your being here?”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and nodded at the Beast, who was sandwiched between a man with chocolate locks and crystal blue eyes and Governor Dubois. Ellie’s smile flickered but she plastered it back so quickly I almost didn’t notice.

“Ah,” she said. “Well, we better give him a stern talking to.” I knew that wouldn’t happen. Ellie was already pulling away.

“Wait,” I asked. “Is that what this is? A fundraiser?”

“Of course not, it’s a party.” She smiled, winked, and walked away. Feeling that gross, sticky feeling only politicians can leave behind, I turned to leave. Fuck this party. I

f Beast wanted to punish me, then so be it. I was so through with all of this, with the charade. I was halfway to my room when I was grabbed by the arm.

“Stop, Nikolai.” I brushed him off me, not even surprised. It was sort of like how if you watched enough scary movies, they stopped scaring you. I’d lived in hell long enough that arm grabbing wasn’t shocking. I imagined if I lived a few more months here, I wouldn’t even cry at things like the kitten.

I shivered; somehow that didn’t seem like a good thing. I put my palm to the my door, deciding not to think about it, when Nikolai said to my back, “I’ve found your father.”

I spun around. “What do you mean you’ve found him?"

“He was missing and I’ve secured his location. He is in a safe place.” Nikolai’s celery stare pierced through the shadowy hallway.

My eyes widened. “He was missing? For how long?”

“I told you there was something you needed to be made aware of,” he said, as if it was on me for not knowing.

"What? You mean the Beast has no idea where he is? I can leave and he won’t die?” Nikolai nodded impassively, as if responding to whether I’d just asked him if that was his natural hair color. Fury filled me and I ran to him, shoving so hard he stumbled back.

“This is fucking ridiculous. You knew this whole time?” When Nikolai nodded again, I gave him another hard shove. “I knew you weren’t a friend. You fucking snake.” Nikolai was like stone against my pushes. I hated him even more. Whatever he was planning, whatever he was using Gabby and me for, I knew right then it was not to benefit me. I was simply a pawn.

“I was waiting for the right time,” he said simply.