41. Honey
Honey
When the apostles talked about the bond between disciple and omega, they never, not once, ever, made it sound like this. I can feel Lazarus. It’s amazing.
He is not as calm as his stony exterior portrays, but my heart is full with this other emotion that makes butterflies flutter in my stomach. It makes my slick insides clench at the loss of him.
Lazarus’s shadow is within me, and the coolness of it has me shivering, but I can feel it working. My neck isn’t throbbing, and the bleeding has already stopped.
With deft hands, Lazarus straightens my shirt and helps me pull it on. My neck and shoulder are stiff at first, but then the pain subsides.
“Will Zephyr and Phoenix get mad?” I tip my head curiously as Lazarus straightens his own clothes.
I feel so good about what we’ve done, but will they? It’s been hinted that the two of them want to be a pack with Lazarus. Surely this is a positive step.
His shadow slowly pours out of me, returning first to the floor behind him before wrapping up around me.
“They will understand the necessity of the matter. When we have time to talk more, I’m sure they’ll be happy with the outcome.” Lazarus’s expression darkens for just a moment, and it’s as if uncertainty rattles through both of our bodies.
When he’s dressed, Lazarus approaches the door. After opening it, he looks out into the hallway.
Xavier steps in with a tense smile on his face.
“Excellent. Congratulations and happy mating.” He continues to rattle on with news, addressing Lazarus.
“I’ve taken the liberty of calling Revenant.
He’s sending Techno, Salem, and the twins over.
They’re to try and follow MP St. Pierre and the person from the House of Apostles. ”
Lazarus nods, then swallows hard, relief pulsing lightly in the bond.
“If you’ll follow me, we’ll take the second elevator to the next floor, then ride the main lobby elevator down. Since we’re no longer hiding your presence, we might as well make it look like we’re upstanding citizens.” Xavier opens the door and holds it open for us to follow.
When we make it through the winding hallway of the nexus and we’re at the final elevator, Lazarus picks up my hand and holds it in his. I look up, meeting his brown eyes as they wash over me with something soft, warm, and suspiciously like love. He kisses my hand, and we step into the elevator.
“Yes, very touching,” Xavier says flatly and presses the button with the star next to it.
It’s a short ride to the bottom floor, and while the lobby certainly isn’t filled with alphas, many seem to be loitering around. Some are wearing sharp blue and gray uniforms, others are wearing dress suits. One alpha looks vaguely familiar. He’s older than Lazarus, with salt-and-pepper hair.
But one alpha stands out, one I couldn’t forget, not even if I tried.
He’s wearing clothes like the disciples wear.
A folded shirt with pleats down the front, trousers without pockets, and shiny black shoes.
Only his wardrobe is a whole lot nicer than the disciples’, made of more luxurious fabrics and always freshly pressed.
“Of course, I should have known you, Asa, of all people would have found her,” Apostle Clement sneers in our direction.
His beady eyes narrow in a glare that flicks between Lazarus and me before settling above my head, straight into Lazarus’s chest. “It wasn’t good enough you ruined one omega, you had to find and ruin another?
And of all omegas, it had to be yet again, one destined for the next apostle. So typical of you, Asa.”
Lazarus doesn’t give in to Apostle Clement’s goading.
And I don’t sense anything in the bond because it’s like any discernible emotion that bled through the connection was shut off.
He doesn’t even say anything to Apostle Clement.
He turns to an alpha in an all-black suit.
Even the shirt buttons are black. He’s tall, broad, and rather handsome, but there is something dark about him, more than just the color of his clothes.
“Abraham, are we done here?” Lazarus’s voice is rough, laced with a low growl.
“Unfortunately not.” The alpha in the black suit, Abraham, responds.
I step closer to Lazarus, whose shadow was trained around the floor. It instantly spurs into action, rising up in a coil around me.
“These lovely members of the police have some questions for you. I will advise which ones you should and shouldn’t answer.” Abraham steps between me and the vaguely familiar alpha.
When Lazarus moves to follow, I stay right at his side, moving with him as his shadow clings to me. With it wrapped around me, I’m nowhere near as nervous as I was before.
We’re led to a member of the group of alphas in gray and blue uniforms who has the most impressive-looking uniform.
He offers a hand out to Lazarus. “Mr. Bellamy, it’s nice to see you again.”
Lazarus eyes the hand defensively before agreeing to shake. “It hasn’t been long enough, Chief Winslow.”
Chief Winslow smiles kindly at first, but it sours. “So when we had the pleasure of seeing each other last, it was because the tracker for an omega who is the daughter of MP St. Pierre had been online at your compound.”
Chief Winslow waits as if he’s expecting Lazarus to answer a question that wasn’t asked. But Lazarus waits him out.
“Based on the spectrum analysis of Omega Bellamy, it would appear that you did in fact know where she was on that day.” Chief Winslow cocks an eyebrow, but again, no question comes.
“Ask a question, or my clients are leaving,” Abraham says flatly.
I look over my shoulder and see that all the eyes in the room are on us, and it has me seeking to be closer to Lazarus. Our sides are touching, but if I could get any closer to him, and still be properly modest, I would.
“Were you aware that this omega is the one we were looking for?” Chief Winslow finally asks a question.
Lazarus looks to Abraham, whose chin moves slightly but nothing else.
“I was not aware this omega was the one you were looking for.” Lazarus rephrases the question right back as an answer.
“When did you become aware that this is the omega we were looking for?” Chief Winslow rapidly fires off that question.
“I did not become aware that it is my omega you were looking for until you just now informed me of such,” Lazarus answers without consulting the alpha in black.
My omega. The way he claims me has my heart fluttering.
“This is ridiculous. She’s my daughter!”
I snap my attention to the vaguely familiar alpha as he continues speaking.
“She’s been missing for all these years, and we’ve finally found her, and it’s time to bring her back home.”
I stare at him curiously as he walks around Lazarus to stand near Chief Winslow. But I don’t know him, and I never met my sire. Could it really be him?
“Prophet Clement has been helping me look for her. It’s been nine years of searching.” The vaguely familiar voice of the slightly familiar alpha is less of a yell this time.
“Prophet?”
“Nine years?”
Lazarus and I speak over each other.
I stop, and he starts. “Prophet, that is what you’re calling yourself now? Yet he not call himself that of the divine, lest he walk —”
“You never did understand my higher calling.” Apostle Clement cuts off Lazarus. “You were too focused on the intermingling of alphas within a pack.”
“Nine years? Apostle Clement has been the one locking me up in sequestering every week. He hasn’t been looking for me.” I interrupt the way Apostle Clement did. Anger burns up the column of my neck and heats me through my whole core. “No one has been looking for me. Especially not him.”
Abraham pinches the bridge of his nose for a minute before looking at Chief Winslow. “Are we done here?”
“Done? You can’t just take my daughter.” The vaguely familiar man’s face is turning red.
There is nothing similar in our looks or appearance — our eye color is different, his hair is too silver to know what color it was.
If he is my father, then he’s a bad one. He doesn’t even sound surprised, and no one reacts to what has been done to me. It’s like they can all ignore the fact of my sequestering, ignore all that I’ve gone through.
Maybe he’s not surprised because he knew. Maybe he’s that bad of a father that he knew where I was this whole time. Nothing, not a single reaction, really shows that anyone cares about me, what’s happened to me. The only reason that could be . . . is because they knew, right?
“My mate and I wish to leave.” Lazarus wraps an arm around me and places a hand on my shoulder.
It’s tender from where he bit me, but I force myself not to flinch. I feel him trying to calm me through the bond. Steady reassurance like he heard me, like he’s upset for me, but doing his best not to show it.
“And when did she become your mate? I know, Mr. Bellamy, that you don’t have a mate registered in the system.” Chief Winslow cants his head to the side.
Lazarus doesn’t answer. He looks to Abraham, who smiles widely, then shakes his head. “My client does not have to answer that question. Further inquiries can be sent to my office.”
The sound of roaring motorcycles from outside rends the air, and I’m drawn to it. They may be terrifying to ride on, but with the sound comes the reassurance that Phoenix and Zephyr are here. Will they be mad I mated with Lazarus? Or will we all be a pack, happily ever after?