GABRIEL #10
One of the panelists jumps in and asks about the ethical side of such a decision, because the change wouldn’t affect the offspring’s genome, and as a result, many children could be born with fatal defects, as is often the case between incompatibles.
Blue explains that he suspected the incompatibility in that case wasn’t genetic, but caused by a severe allergic response, which turned out to be true.
He mentions that he recently made a breakthrough related to that, and that studying immune reactions led him to identify new markers that science had previously overlooked.
Soon after, he developed a test capable of detecting compatibility between betas and alphas at the Low and Half Mate levels. That became the foundation of the Beta Activation program.
He finishes by saying that the newest version of the test can now detect compatibility between alphas and omegas as well, although still only at the Low and Half Mate levels.
The host opens the floor for questions.
They come quickly.
"When will there be tests for High Mates?"
"What about True Mates? Will it be available, and if so, will it be easily accessible to everyone?"
Most of the questions are directed at Blue, with the other panelists practically ignored. I get the impression they’re not thrilled about it, but that’s just how it is.
Blue gets questioned from every angle, but he never slips, not even once.
He gives solid answers that, in a way, shut the topic down by backing everything up with relevant arguments.
The event is slowly wrapping up, which I’m glad about, because I’d rather get out of such a crowded place, but then I feel that strange pressure building inside me.
There’s a pulse at the back of my head, something that sometimes shows up right before something intense happens.
Suddenly the microphone is passed to someone in the back, and a question is asked.
"Why has Malden Pharmaceuticals started getting involved in military matters, and what is your stance on NFH’s actions?"
My whole body tightens. I know it’s coming, and I keep my 5-sec skill active the entire time.
Blue starts answering, but after just a couple of sentences, I see it.
A vision.
A man in the back jumps up, shouting, "Down with True Mates!"
He throws two balloons toward the panel, one filled with colored pigment, the other with paint mixed with water.
In my vision, I see them bursting over the panelists, over Blue, color exploding into the air.
I decide I’m not letting that happen.
Next to me, leaning against the wall, there’s a large event billboard displaying the event name and a list of panelists.
The moment the man lifts his arm, I lean across Blue’s chair, grab him, and hoist him up in one swift motion, pivoting and sliding him behind the board just as the balloons hit the table and burst over the panelists.
Blue stays completely untouched, not a single drop lands on him, even though plenty of it hits me.
I turn and see the man pushing through the crowd, trying to escape. Oh, I’m not letting that happen.
With a growl befitting a full-blooded, pissed-off alpha, I jump onto the table, stepping through the colored powder, and activate my skill to its full capacity, calculating the exact path I need to take to cut the attacker off.
The only effective option is moving across the tops of the seats, right by people’s heads, so that’s exactly what I do.
I leap from one seat back to another, drawing startled cries from people as my feet land right beside their heads and shoulders.
And I reach him.
With one sharp, brutal movement, I twist his body and slam him to the ground, wrenching his arm back hard enough to draw an impossibly piercing scream from him.
Wow. I barely recognize myself.
Not long ago, I was on the other side, one of them, protesting at events like this, and now…
If Marcel could see me, he’d lose it.
The guy keeps screaming. His shoulder must be dislocated. Fortunately, venue security rushes in and takes over restraining him, so I can finally let go and stand up.
My eyes meet those of the people around me, many agitated, many aggressive, some frightened by the unexpected commotion, but I ignore them with haughty indifference.
Instead, I turn toward Blue, who is stepping out from behind the board.
He’s looking straight at me now. Across the room, our eyes meet.
There’s a peculiar energy passing between us.
I leave the man with venue security and push my way through the crowd back toward Blue.
Every other panelist is covered head to toe in paint and powder, swearing like crazy.
Only Blue is untouched, and I feel a strange kind of pride because of it.
The host looks furious, trying to say something while nervously tapping the microphone, but it’s clearly been splashed and shorted out.
I don’t think it’s worth waiting around.
"I think it’s time for us to go," I say to Blue.
He simply nods. I move half a step ahead of him and lead him out through a side exit.
But as I reach the door, I feel it coming again. There’s still a crowd in the hallway, and I know they’ll surround him the moment we step out, so I stop.
"There are a lot of people out there. We’ll get surrounded. They’ll ask questions, try to touch you…" I say, turning toward him with my hand already on the handle.
I see it on his face, the irritation, the clear reluctance.
"I don’t want to be touched," he grits out coldly, his jaw tightening.
So I close my eyes for a second, running through another scenario.
"I can prevent it, but I’ll have to be a little rough. And ‘a little’ is an understatement."
"Then do it." His eyes lock onto mine. "Protect me, Gabriel!"
Those words trigger a strange, primal reaction in me, like my body has been hit with an electric impulse. Something almost wild awakens inside me. An omega is asking for protection, and I am an alpha. It’s deeply instinctive, and my body shifts into a new state of focused attention.
I slowly nod, not taking my gaze away. For a moment, it feels like we’re completely focused on each other, which is strange.
"No touching me."
"Copy that. I’ll handle them," I say, feeling even more grounded in my bodyguard role, an unexpected calm in my voice, something very unlike me.
"Let’s move."
I open the door, and the group in the hallway immediately notices us and starts surging in our direction.
There’s only one thing I can do to prevent us from being surrounded. I move fast, stepping straight into them and shoving the first guy hard enough to make him stumble back.
"Back off! Move aside right now," I growl, the warning AO tone vibrating in my chest like distant thunder.
What the fuck? Never, not once in my life, have I made such a low, almost feral sound from my throat, one that comes out sounding almost demonic in its depth. Where is this kind of energy even coming from?
It’s almost as if I were a true protector rather than a bodyguard, and that’s a role much closer to the most fundamental nature of an alpha.
Where’s the old shy Gabriel? Now I’m acting like someone else entirely.
The question is…
Why is my alpha side waking up so strongly around Blue?
Even more people try to push in from the sides, but I move quickly, cutting them off before they can get close. Every time someone gets within six feet, I shove them away, sometimes hard enough to send them to the floor.
The visions in my head are running nonstop. I can feel the pressure building, a sharp ache at the back of my skull. I see every scenario where someone grabs Blue’s arm, and I stop it before it can happen.
The possibilities flood in one after another. If I don’t push hard enough, someone slips through. If I move this one, two more take his place.
It’s relentless, an overwhelming stream of paths and outcomes as I force my way through the crowd toward the stairs.
Finally, we make it, and Blue is still untouched.
I push the door open, relief hitting me immediately. My head is pounding. Blue slips through the narrow gap, I follow, then pull the door shut and hold it for a moment to discourage anyone from coming after us.
A few seconds later, security is already coming up the stairs toward us.
"Hey, block that door. Don’t let anyone follow," I say firmly.
"Got it," one of them answers obediently.
At last, the two of us head down one level and exit through the same side entrance we used before.
There’s silence between us. As we walk, I rub my temples, the pressure still there, but I’m pretty satisfied. I did my job without making a single mistake. Blue wasn’t even brushed, let alone hit by a single drop of paint.
We cross the parking lot in silence. The limousine is still waiting, and we get in.
Only when I sit down does Blue finally speak.
"That was a stellar performance, and I appreciate it."
I lower my hands from my temples. He’s watching me.
"Does it hurt?"
"The more possible paths I generate, the heavier the strain. I guess you could call it… discomfort."
"Unfortunately, you should expect more days like this. This is what my life looks like. When I appear in public, there are often minor or major complications that I have to deal with. Preventing them will now be your responsibility."
His face is calm as he says it, but I can tell what he feels underneath is different. This isn’t something he takes lightly. It’s something that wears him down, something he has to live with whether he wants to or not, and he truly appreciates what I did.
"Well, you hired me for it. So I’ll try to take as much of that weight off your shoulders as I can. I can see you deal with a lot, and that’s… pretty damn rough," I say, surprising even myself.
Did I really just say that?
To someone I would’ve called my enemy yesterday, and now I care about how he feels? Where is this even coming from?
Blue studies me for a moment, a skeptical look crossing his face.