Chapter 3 An Entrepreneurial Omega #2
He stood up, chewing his lip in thought before he finally looked back at me, eyes darting up towards my horns and growing suspicious. “Why are you asking about Sage?”
I took out my license again. “My name’s Ronan Blackthorne. I’ve been hired to track her down,” I replied in a calm, even tone. Better to make it seem more like she was an innocent missing person and not, you know, a thief wanted by the Premier himself.
The werewolf shifted his weight on his feet.
“Well, I haven’t seen her in, gosh, five years, I think?
She dropped out just a few months before graduation.
Didn’t even stop by to say goodbye.” He looked down, the fondness for the missing witch clear in his pained expression.
A strange, possessive growl in the pit of my stomach threatened to be unleashed, and I covered it with a cough.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about her, Professor…?”
“Silas Howland. My office is this way, follow me.”
I put away my license and nodded to the student, who flattened her lips and raised her eyebrows, already washing her hands of the problem as she went back to work, which looked suspiciously like updating her MagikGraph profile.
Professor Howland’s office overlooked the lawn outside. One side was a glass wall, the bottom half frosted for privacy. Shelves lined the other walls, filled to the brim with dry-looking texts, titled things like “The Fundamentals of Marketing Strategy” and “Principles of Advertising.”
My eyes were already glazing over at the thought of their contents. It was probably a good thing I’d never attempted to go to college, because there was no way I’d have paid attention in any of my classes.
I liked to read, but nonfiction just put me to sleep.
He set his stuff down and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a little towel, tucking it into his pocket. “Please, have a seat Mr. Blackthorne.”
I did as instructed, and he took his own seat behind his desk, shaking his mouse to wake his computer up.
After typing in his password, I saw the reflection of his screen in the glass behind him—an email inbox with hundreds of unread messages.
His eyes quickly scanned the page and then he returned his attention towards me.
“So, what would you like to know about Sage?”
I took out a small pad of paper for notes and my phone. “Do you mind if I record this conversation?” He shook his head and I continued, tapping the button. “Just start from the beginning. When did you meet Sage, and what kind of student was she?”
He took off his glasses, cleaning the smudges with the corner of his shirt.
“Well, let’s see. Sage wasn’t your typical student.
Most are in and out in four years, but she had extended her program by a bit longer, and was one of the oldest students in my classes.
She never really talked about her personal life too much, but she’d alluded to some health problems that had side tracked her a bit. ”
If she had health problems severe enough to slow down her education, she might have been treated at one of the larger hospitals in Elmaris, the elven city-state.
Elves were particularly adept at healing magic, and everyone knew that if you came down with something your local doctor couldn’t treat, Elmaris was your next stop.
I jotted down a note to check there later.
“I remember she also had a part-time job and worked a lot. She didn’t come from wealth, and had to cover her own living expenses.”
“Her job at Sable Mansion?” I asked, recalling her MagikGraph post.
He shrugged. “I have no idea. I just know she had to miss a lot of social gatherings and study groups due to her job or for doctor’s appointments.
I mean, I really didn’t know her that well outside of class or office hours, to be honest. We mostly just discussed her school work and her future business plans. ”
Tension I didn’t even know I had began to ease at hearing that.
No personal relationship. That was good.
Wait, no, that was bad. It meant he knew less. “And what were those plans?”
“Ah, let’s see…” he said, scratching his cheek. “It was an app of some sort, something to help witches. That’s why she was double-majoring in CS. I can’t remember many of the details, but my initial impression was that it had been a good idea, and I admired her entrepreneurial spirit.”
Quirking an eyebrow, I paused and looked up at him. “Oh?”
“Yes. I hate to say it, but even in this day and age, the only way for omegas to really succeed in business is to strike out on their own. A lot of companies are loath to hire omegas as anything other than low-level temps or assistants.” He leaned forward, speaking a little more quietly. “They hate paying heat leave.”
I nodded in understanding. Omegas typically went into heat three to four times a year, and they were often discriminated against by employers because of it, what with bosses worrying the company would be put out if they left in the middle of a big project or something.
But it seemed pretty unfounded since a lot of omegas took heat suppressants precisely because they didn’t want to deal with the inconvenience. And alphas, who went into ruts themselves, never had the same problems getting hired.
“How about friends? Do you remember any classmates she was particularly close with?”
His expression turned somber. “I remember two in particular, but they unfortunately passed away shortly after she left. It was a dark time here.”
I assumed one was the boyfriend, but I didn’t know about the other one. “Can you give me either of their names? How did they die?”
Professor Howland sighed, then looked at his watch. “I’m afraid I have a lecture starting in thirty minutes that I need to prep for. Can I email you later?”
I thanked him, standing and taking my card out of my wallet and sliding it towards him on his desk. “Of course, and thank you for your time. If you can send me any information at all about those students who died, I’d really appreciate it.”
I left his office and headed back out of the building, feeling like I now had more questions than when I’d started.
This little witch omega was an enigma, igniting my alpha instincts with the thrill of the chase.
If I wasn’t already being paid ungodly amounts of money to find her, I might have been looking into her disappearance just to satisfy my own growing curiosity.
Who was Sage Hexwood?