CHAPTER SEVEN - BIRDIE #2
Something about the way Colt is looking at his omega makes me feel unsettled.
Or maybe it’s the way he’s threaded his thick fingers through the back of Charlie’s strawberry-blond hair, drawing his face up to his smiling mouth.
The vibe is both possessive and devoted, which isn’t something I’d normally associate with an alpha.
But what do I know about happy matings? The only omegas at the compound who had taken bites were frightened, beaten things. My stepfather’s philosophy was that omegas are born to be bred, and the only reason you’d bite one is to keep them from hanging themselves in the barn.
I close the album with a frown and cast another look around the room, waiting for inspiration.
Time is slipping through my fingers, and I need supplies, warm clothes, and preferably enough money to cover a few weeks of living lean.
If I can’t find it in the bedrooms, I’ll need to sneak down to the living areas when they’re asleep.
I’m not a thief, but alphas have stolen just about everything from me, so why shouldn’t I take a little back?
My stomach growls, and I rub a weary hand over my face.
It feels gritty, the skin dry and thin, and I think longingly of a hot shower.
But who can say how long the alphas will be distracted downstairs?
Supplies are more important than comfort, so I make my way back over to Colt’s dresser.
Peeling another twenty off the roll of cash, I grab a pair of sweatpants and a couple of thermal tanks and bundle them under my arm.
I cast a weary glance back at the window, but I can’t give up just yet.
At the very least I need to get myself a weapon.
I think of the knife in Hog’s giant hand with a touch of longing.
I bet it carves through thick alpha hides almost as easily as it sliced off my zip ties.
With a blade like that, I could take on just about any monster that came at me.
Of course, I’d have to wrestle it off the bear-shaped alpha first.
With a sigh, I creep out of Colt’s bedroom and study the hallway.
There are four other doors, which probably means a bathroom, more bedrooms, or maybe some kind of storage space.
All good possibilities, given the supplies I need, but as I approach the closest door, I hear an angry rumble from downstairs.
I freeze, my hand an inch from the doorknob.
“She’s hurt,” a voice rasps, as rough as a gravel sidewalk under bare feet. “A lot of old wounds, but there are fresh ones, too. I want to know how much you know about them.”
I can’t resist being drawn to that voice, only pausing when I reach the bannister. I hunker down, gripping the wood post as my ears strain to catch their words.
“What exactly are you insinuating, Sergeant?”
My blood chills at the familiar voice. A room ripples around me in the hallway, touched by firelight, but sending cold fingers skittering down my spine.
I can feel the doctor’s hand in my hair, his sour breath on my neck, but it’s the general who shimmers to life, whiskey glass in hand as he frowns down at me like I’m a broken doll.
“Is your intel that they’re all from her time on the street?” Hog pushes on, skepticism clear in his voice. “It’s not like a pimp to mark up his property like that.”
“We don’t know.” The general pauses, perhaps regretting the deal he made with the devil. “What did she say?”
Of course, he wants to know if he can rely on the doctor’s promise of silence. This is his unit. His men. And what did he say about Axel Lawson? If he doesn’t take offense at the manipulation, he has a very strict moral code, and he won’t stand for mistreating an omega.
Yeah, right.
“Birdie doesn’t talk much,” Axel says now, his voice strained with something I can’t name. “We’re taking things slow.”
The general grunts, but there’s a hint of satisfaction as he nods at Axel. “You’re looking out for her, of course. I knew your pack would do the right thing.”
Instead of Axel, it’s Hog who answers. “She’s safe now. Can't say the same for whoever was looking out for her before, though.”
The venom in his voice takes me by surprise. It has the creeping, deadly promise of lava, and I bet the general is sweating under his three stars as he growls, “What do you mean by that, Sergeant?”
“I mean that someone did a fucked-up job of protecting her. Maybe I should talk to them. See if they need their duties as an alpha spelled out to them.”
I frown, because what the hell kind of fantasy is he living in if he thinks that my enemies are somehow his?
“As far as I know, she was making do on her own,” the general says, the lie a gruff hitch on his tongue. “Just do the right thing by her for Charlie. But don't go looking for a fight, Hog. I need your focus on your next mission.”
Mission? I stick my legs out carefully and slide silently down a couple of stairs.
It puts me just below the staircase overhang and brings Hog and Axel into view.
They’re facing a laptop on the coffee table, the general’s frowning face filling the screen.
I don’t think the angle has exposed me, but I quickly draw my toes back, just in case.
“Some things keep, General.” Hog goes on, his posture like a bag of rocks dumped in the armchair. “But some things have a way of getting my attention.”
I blink again, because that doesn’t just sound like idle talk. Is he threatening the general? Or threatening my mysterious foes? A crackling silence fills the room, but then Hog gets to his feet, all six-plus-change feet of him glowering down at the screen. “I’ve got weapons to check.”
He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, heading towards a door at the back of the kitchen.
I shrink back, even though I’m not in his line of sight, but I can still see Axel rubbing a hand over his face.
As soon as Hog disappears through the door, he gives a small shrug and the general sighs.
“Captain, can I trust you to hold things together? I can’t have any loose cannons on your next mission. ”
Axel’s back instantly snaps straight. “We’re tight, General. Our duty is to the unit. Nothing gets in the way of that.”
The general looks skeptical, but he just nods and the pair make their farewells.
I watch Axel’s shoulders slump, his gaze fixed on the dark screen.
Clearly Colt didn’t make it to their briefing, and Hog basically declared that he’s going rogue.
The pack is about as mission ready as a loose grenade bouncing down the side of a mountain, which works out just fine for me.
They go off and get themselves blown up, and I won’t have to sneak around for supplies.
I can just help myself to whatever I want.