Chapter 18
Eighteen
Strat
S omething about Otillie-James was riding my Omega. He just wanted to put her on his lap and snuggle her for the rest of the afternoon. The last thing I wanted to do was take her to a police station to look at a bunch of criminals.
I hadn’t been appeasing her; the new hairstyle made her look like she’d just been thoroughly fucked for a few hours, and I was dying to see if I could recreate the style back at my house, maybe in my nest.
So as I escorted her into the police precinct, it took me every ounce of willpower to wear a professional mask. I talked to the desk cop, and he buzzed us back. We were met by Detective Perkeski, an aging Beta cop who was just about done with the force and people in general. His hair had gone prematurely gray, his face was covered in more potholes than the Jersey turnpike, and he was generally just over people’s shit.
“Mr. Wilmington, if you’ll come this way?” He ignored Otillie-James altogether, and while normally that would irritate me, today it made my Omega rage. Maybe I was coming up to my heat? I’d have to look at my calendar when I got back to the office, so I could book the leave accordingly.
It was one of the reasons I’d gone with public prosecution and not into a private firm. I knew I’d never make partner, having to take a week off for my heat every three months. Bigoted old fucks probably did it themselves with their own Omegas, but they saw it as optional for Alphas, whereas there was no way I could just “push through” my heat.
Swallowing down a growl, I met Otillie-James’s worried look with a smile. I was fine. I’d definitely figure this out later. I didn’t want to go through my heat just yet; I had plans. Or at least, my Omega had desires, and it was up to me, the man, to make them happen. I couldn’t just pout and whine and hope that the Alpha I wanted, and the pretty little Unshown, would fall into my nest with me.
I wanted to reconnect with Edison Chalmers, the other Alpha, first. I remembered him in passing from our teenage years, but that was it. I also wanted to meet Otillie-James’s Beta, at least to see if he was right for her.
They led us to a viewing room, and the other detective, Hopkins, was there. He was a middle-aged Alpha, but he’d always treated my position with respect. He shook my hand, nodding respectfully, then did the same for Otillie-James. “Good to see you again, Miss Baler.”
Flushing, she shook his hand. “I mean, same, I guess? I really am sorry about wasting your time, though.”
He gave her a narrowed-eyed look, like he was trying to decide if she was really a criminal mastermind or just an idiot with a chicken. I could have told him she was neither of those; she was a beautiful soul, who just wanted to save the creatures that had no one else to save them.
He just grunted something and picked up the comms phone in the corner, telling them to send in the lineup.
Perkeski looked bored. “Just let us know if you recognize anyone as being at Hooley’s Garage that night.”
Of the fifteen men they showed her in the lineup, she was able to say for certain three had been there. One guy she remembered spitting on the cement near where she’d been hiding at the back of the garage. Another guy, she’d seen laughing and grinning at his winnings, though he seemed a lot less jovial now. And a third guy was Spartacus’s owner, who’d tossed him back in his cage, brutalized and broken. I was glad he was here to get his comeuppance.
She indicated that there were two more who looked familiar, but not enough to say without a doubt they’d been there. She studied one in particular for a long time, a red-haired guy, who looked a little like he’d had his head shoved in a toilet bowl too many times. In the end, she said she’d seen him before, but couldn’t place him at the cockfight specifically.
By the end, she looked flushed, and maybe a little anxious. This was a lot for most people; the weight of people’s lives resting on your memory, but her word wouldn’t be the smoking gun to put anyone away. There was still a fair amount of police work to be done, building a case on my behalf, before people got punished.
As I spoke softly to Hopkins about the next steps, there was a tug at my sleeve. I looked over my shoulder at Otillie-James, a frown immediately folding my face. She was looking more than flushed now. She was sweating lightly, her skin oddly waxy and her eyes feverish.
It was warm in this tiny room, but not unbearably so.
“I don’t feel so great. I’m just going to go. I’ll get a cab home.” I shook my head immediately, but she stopped me. “No, I know you’re still working. Don’t rush off on my account,” she croaked out. Her hands were shaking.
Did she have food poisoning? Was she having a panic attack? She looked wrong.
“I’ll take you,” I said firmly, then looked at Hopkins. “Call the office later.”
He nodded, his eyes watching Otillie-James in a way that made me want to growl like an Alpha. I hustled her out of the station and to my car at lightning speed. My Omega was thrashing around inside me, and I didn’t know why.
But as I closed my door, and her sweet floral scent hit me square between the eyes, I knew. My Omega knew too, and he was panting.
Fuck.
“Otillie-James, are you okay?” I asked her softly, and she gave me a panicked expression.
She shook her head almost violently. “No. My body aches,” she whined, curling over. “Maybe I ate something bad?”
She was twenty-three, which was old for this. It was extremely rare, but not unheard of.
“Sweetheart, I think you might be going through your designation and your first heat all at once. I think you might be an Omega.”
Her pretty eyes flashed to mine. She looked at me like I was stupid. “I’m Unshown, Strat. I’m okay with that.”
I shook my head, holding back a chuckle, because it wouldn’t be helpful at this moment. “Does your belly feel like it’s burning, yet you feel so slick that you’re worried I’ll be able to see it leaking down those pretty thighs? Does your skin feel so sensitive that even the smallest breeze feels painful, yet you know that if I touched you, you’d feel better?” Okay, that was a little presumptuous on my behalf. But I definitely hoped that it was true. “Do you feel hot and cold and so needy that you just want to peel off your skin?”
“Yes,” she breathed through gritted teeth.
“Then babe, I think you’re an Omega, and you’re going into heat. There are a couple of options now,” I tell her, pulling out into traffic. I had to get her somewhere fast, because I finally realized why my Omega had felt so off all day. She was pushing me into a sympathetic heat. Probably because it was her first one, and probably because it was delayed, it was going to be a doozy, and my Omega pheromones were all too happy to join in on the fuckery.
“I can take you to a heat house, and hand you over to some lovely nurses, who’ll have some Alphas who’ve all had health checks and criminal checks, and signed agreements to keep you safe. They have all sorts of safeguards to protect Omegas during their heat. I've been to a few myself. I can drive you there personally.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice light, which was harder than expected. “I think you’re throwing my Omega into heat, so we could ride it out together. It won’t be perfect, and we’d be pretty mindless, so if there’s someone you trust to check on us and make sure we aren’t dehydrated husks, it would be best to call them.” Her pheromones were starting to make my mind fuzzy now. “Alternatively, I can drop you home to your Alphas, if you trust them to get you through your first heat.”
“Home,” she breathed. A whine slipped from my lips, disappointed that it wouldn’t be me and her, but I understood. When you were in the haze of heat, your instincts naturally wanted an Alpha. We were literally made for each other.
“Okay, sweetheart. Hold on.” Using the car’s bluetooth system, I pulled up Truett Heathstone’s phone number. Then I reached over and wrapped my fingers in hers, holding her steady, pushing calming pheromones her way.
I remembered my first heat. It had been terrifying. I’d designated almost a year earlier, though, so I’d had time to plan and prepare, both emotionally and physically. To get a double whammy all at once must be so scary.
The phone line clicked. “Heathstone.”
I almost panted at the sound of his voice. I was going to have to deliver Otillie-James and head straight to a heat house myself. My Omega whimpered.
“Hello?”
“Truett, it’s Strat. Uh…” How do I say this without sounding insane? “I need you to meet me at the Chalmers Estate right now, and call your Packmate too.”
“Excuse me?”
“Otillie-James has just been through designation, and her first heat is hot on its heels. She’s an Omega.”
The silence down the end of the line was so loud, I could almost feel it hum around the car, only broken by the sound of Otillie-James’s whimpers of pain.
“Truett?”
“I’m sorry, I swear you just said OJ was an Omega.”
I growled. “I did. Now get your ass home and attend to your damn Omega, Heathstone, or I will.” I jammed the end call button and squeezed her hand. “Almost there, sweetheart. I promise, your Alphas will make it all better.”
Or I’d kick their asses myself.