39. Desert Sun
Desert Sun
Tony
Many people think my name is short for Anthony. But it’s actually not short for anything. My name is Tony Racine, and I’m a bloodhound.
All the cameras on the outside of the Livingston house feed into my laptop, so I see what they see. They don’t have any cameras on the inside. They keep all the footage on cloud storage that I also have access to, and I saw some highly sensitive stuff from the last omega they tried to court.
Matty let me know about their beta Ash, and she had a feeling he could be compromised easily.
She’s been texting him since the three of us, including her infant daughter, got a motel about ten miles away.
Matty is a good spy, a good mother, but she treats this kind of like a vacation.
She and Fern have been out in the pool almost every day, and she insists on going to the local fossil shop and out to eat at the cute cafes.
Honestly, Matty deserves a vacation, so I let her do as she pleases.
She’s in bed for the night, and I’m holding baby Fern while I watch the cameras.
Baby Fern has decided she will now only sleep in my arms. I adjust my glasses, not appreciating I have to wear my backups, which are nit transition lenses, and the prescription is a little off.
The airport was gracious enough to send a courier—at my expense—with my luggage containing my backup pair.
The night seems pretty quiet, but I have a bad feeling.
Kelya hasn’t left the house in two days.
It’s been several days since I broke in and saw her nest for the first time.
I huff out a laugh at the shock I had seeing it was a fucking manmade cave with a bubbling pool full of hot mineral water.
I’d been curious what kind of nest would make an omega unnaturally bond with it, and knew in that moment I didn’t have enough imagination.
It made sense, the cities she gravitated towards. All on the water with beautiful landscapes. Not being able to talk to her about it is killing me. Roman blocked my number on her phone and told me if I contact them again he’d involve the police.
I don’t fuck with the cops.
Matty’s phone pings, and she reaches over to check who texted her.
“Who’s that?”
“Ash,” she says with a little smile in her voice.
“Isn’t he…” I shut up, realizing I shouldn’t talk. Ash is part of Kelya’s pack. He’s one of her…men.
When I smelled her nest, it was very clear to my nose that she’s a bonded omega. Too bad I am halfway crazed and can’t get my inner alpha to care. I was never going to bond anyone anyway. I will take her even if she has three alphas and a very tall beta who looks like he digs graves at night.
She’s mine.
Bloodhounds, as a type of alpha, traditionally don’t give a fuck after they find a scent they like.
Kelya smells like sweet prickly pear. A watermelon, floral, sunshine scent. I stole the ropes that she wore for a whole day and rubbed them on my dick, pressing them into my nose, and masturbated while parked out in the desert by myself. I came so damned hard I think I blacked out.
I dyed hemp ropes in the motel bathtub, then after I broke into her nest, I left them for her to find. I hope they leave red stains on her skin after she uses them on herself, and when her alphas see it, they’ll know I’m the one who leaves marks on their omega.
“Tony?” Matty sits up, rereading the text to herself and getting more and more agitated.
“Yes?”
“I think Kelya is in trouble.”
I lurch up, but then quickly realize I’m holding a dozing baby and settle down. Matty hops out of bed, and we safely transfer the baby.
I check Kelya’s location, or at least the location of the lighter, and it’s still at the house.
“What did Ash say?”
“It was nonsense. I think it was a distress signal.”
I grab her phone and read it. “She. It’s bad. Now.”
I don’t know what to make of it, but I think Matty is right. Something is wrong.
“Go. Now. I’ll call you with more details.”
I’ve got my shoes on and grab the keys to the rental car, shooting out the door.
The keyfob will not open the door, and the breeze in the night air teases my senses.
All I can think is that I need to get to her and fast. I drop the keys and run.
As the crow flies, it’s only three miles. Maybe less, right through the desert.
The moon is hidden behind dark clouds, and the stars peek out in patches. I need to be aware of critter holes or unexpected changes in elevation, but I’m so fast, it may not even matter.
Hold on, Sweet Rosette, I’m coming.
My phone keeps ringing, and I’m afraid it will slow me down to answer, but Matty may have more information for me.
I take it out and answer.
“Why didn’t you take the car! You’re fucking insane. I’m loading Fern into the car seat and I’m coming after you!”
“Matty!” I shout. Frustrated and scared.
“I got a hold of Ash. Kelya is in Roman’s room. The other alphas have Ash confined. They won’t let him go to her. He says he can feel her. She’s in pain and scared. He says Roman is like a column of heat. Ash is afraid for Kelya’s life.”
“I’m going to kill them all.”
“Just properly document everything so if shit hits the fan, they’ll know it’s because these motherfuckers were hurting an omega.”
That means I need a witness. I’ll need Ash first. Fuck! Fuck! I can’t waste a single second.
“Where is Ash exactly?”
“He says he’s in the billiards room.”
“I don’t know where the fuck that is. Matty, tell him to get to Roman’s room by any means necessary.”
“Got it, boss.” The call ends.
I caught all the Livingston alphas’ scents, and could find the other alphas in the house, wherever the fuck the billiards room is, but I’m not there to save Ash. I’m only there for my omega.
Not only is it dark as sin out here, but my glasses are filmed over with desert dust. I’m left using my nose to make up for lost data.
I tear down the small hill, hearing and smelling coyotes somewhere out here. But I won’t stop. I get to the house and slam into the locked front door—once, twice, and on the third try, the deadbolt tears through the frame, opening up to the stone foray.
Once inside, I scale the stairs to the bedrooms. Roman’s woodsmoke scent is logged away in my database, and I find his room quickly.
Through the door, I smell Kelya’s fear. An omega afraid sets out a pheromone bomb that affects every alpha in the vicinity.
I slam my body into the door, tearing it open, and rush inside to the melee.
I hear screaming from inside the house. Ash must smell like sweet mint and fennel, because that smell is coming through the hall.
Good. Fucking good.
Roman’s body is overtop my omega.
I see red.
Her scent is wild, and there’s so much of it everywhere. I can smell her sweat, tears, and even her bruising. He’s slamming her into the floor over and over again.
I don’t think, I just act.
I tackle him and roll him off of her. He’s still got one hand gripping her, and she cries out in pain as she gets twisted up in our dog pile. I maneuver him using my knees and elbows, until he has to let go of her. Finally, his black eyes meet mine.
I can see it in his eyes—he wants to kill her.
“Ash!” I yell, knowing the mint and fennel man is at the door. “Get her out of here!”
Ash is hurt. I smell the blood. He rushes over and scoops her up. As soon as I see an opportunity to take my fist to Roman’s bald head, I do. He has no idea how strong I am. Kelya struggles out of Ash’s arms and hides away into what I assume is a closet or a bathroom.
The distraction gives Roman a chance to hit me back on the jaw. I scramble up to my feet, kick his side, and then wipe the blood off my mouth.
All it does is make me want to hurt him more.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” he shouts when he finally gets a good look at me.
“I’m here for my omega.”
Roman climbs to his feet, laughing like a maniac. He’s shirtless and doesn’t have a scratch on him from Kelya. He overpowered her fast and hard. She would have died if I didn’t stop him.
The room is a cacophony of scents, but I do smell the GHB in the rug, mixed with expensive Japanese whiskey. The other alphas, Noble and Hollis, enter the room.
“She’s mine! Mine! She wears my mark! She has my bond!“ Roman’s finger jabs into his chest, and his face grows more and more red. Heat billows off of him.
I pump my fists and then bounce on my feet, moving closer to the monster.
Headlamps hit the house. Matty. I don’t want her getting out of the car. I hope she knows to stay there.
Roman and I collide in the middle of the room.
We are both strikers. Neither of us enjoy grappling or throwing.
We are the same age and have about the same muscle mass.
The difference is, he doesn’t use his legs.
It’s all arms. I have the thighs of a rugby player, and I know how to use them.
I ground myself like a tree, then slam my fist into his collar bone.
He spins around me with a grunt, and then a fist hits my shoulder blade, but there’s hardly as much power to it as he needs.
Especially because I transfer the hit into a decidable sway.
I dodge the next two throws, then dip down to make contact with his ribs. I put my whole body into it, but remain firm. His grunt is involuntary, and he stumbles, so I come after him, pressing him into the tall windows.
Hollis and Noble get their wits about them and come after me.
Three to one.
I do my best dodging their kicks and grabs, but they soon get me in the middle, struggling. Hollis kicks the back of my knee, and I drop.
“Stop!” Kelya screams at us, but no one stops. Their kicks land on my tailbone and kidneys. Fuck!
The pain can be pushed down, but the effect it has on my body cannot.
Their fists rain over me, and I take each hit. I turn just in time for the deafening shot of a gun to ring out. I throw my hands over my ears, too late. The sound echoes wildly in the room. The bullet goes right through the windows, blowing one of them straight through.
Hollis and Noble hit the deck, and Roman drops like a sack of potatoes.
Kelya stands at the other end of the room in an open robe, her white linen pants slung low on her hips, and my red ropes tying her together in a stunning bodysuit.
Her eyes are wild, and her hair is defying gravity.
In her hand is a smoking nickel-plated Colt 1911. Where the hell did Kelya get that?
Her chest rises and falls in distress.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
She looks like a gangster or a goddess.
I want to kiss her red lips and tell her how I will worship her until the sun swallows us whole.
But she grabs her head, gun still in hand. Then Hollis, Noble, and Ash do the same thing. They cry out in a primal, identical scream. The kind that signifies death.
I pivot my head and see the body of Roman Livingston lying motionless underneath the bloody and blown window.
She killed him.
Hollis wails. Noble screams. But the sound from the omega makes the window crack even more. It’s horrific. I crawl to her, hands over my ears. I pass Ash, holding his chest with his mouth open in a primal wail.
Their bonded is dead. And not just any alpha, their pack lead. What happens to a pack when someone dies? Murdered by their own omega?
Oh my god. I realize, suddenly, what this means. Bond Annihilation.