Chapter 12

I've killed enough people that I've had to resign myself to the fact I'm a liability for anyone to get close to. Not that I crave human contact often. It's a rare and inconvenient occurrence when it rears its ugly head, but those moments pass quickly.

Which is good because I've got more enemies than I can count.

Until now, I've successfully ensured I'm able to get them before they get me, but it's a statistical probability that, at some point, my luck will run out.

Or my skills will fail me, and anyone close to me could pay the price.

That's not a risk I can take, which means I'm on the countdown to feral.

It's fine.

All of our time clocks are ticking away toward death from the moment we take our first breath.

Betas and omegas might be waiting for death, but alphas have the additional challenge of racing the clock toward the day our system decides to go off the deep end.

Alphas who don't have contact with an omega regularly are at a much higher risk of going feral. They lean into the hyper-aggressive stereotype that defines our designation. They're more prone to violent outbursts and eventually lose all rational sense.

Bonding an omega would prevent that outcome, but it would put said omega directly in the line of sight for all the enemies I've amassed over the years.

As such, I'm in a stalemate with my own mind. If I were to go feral—thus, allowing my particular skill set to go rogue—the risk to humanity would be too high.

It's a conundrum I've pondered at great length over the years, but at the first signs of mental decay, I would do the honorable thing and put myself down.

Squashing the life from the eyes of those who deserve it comes easy, but I won't be a risk to those who are innocent.

I toss my towel over the shower curtain rod and tug on a pair of thin sweatpants. The material is closer to a cotton blend than the heavy material a winter pair of sweats would be made out of, but I tend to run hot.

No one wants to sweat while they're attempting to rest.

Clicking off the bathroom light, I quietly aim for the bed I've slept in the last few nights.

Laken still rests tangled up with Tanner, and I haven't a single clue why it annoys me so much. She seemed unafraid of me the last time I saw her, but rather than sleeping in my bed, surrounded by my scent, she's wrapped up with the idiot.

Sparrow was obviously correct in her assumptions of Laken's instincts being off.

I have off-the-charts eidetic memory recall abilities.

My brain seems especially fascinated with the way she clung to my chest while looking to me for protection.

If we weren't essentially done with the slaughter when Maverick and Gunner finally located her, I would have asked her to walk me through finding each individual who touched her, spoke to her crassly, or even gazed at her wrong.

She looked at me like I was her savior…after seeing me brutally execute three men.

No one looks at me like I'm a hero.

It means something.

I just don't know what.

I lie awake, trying to determine what the options are for Laken's fate.

If Kurran and Adair—Andretti's right-hand men who were positioned at the warehouse—don't pop up, then it likely means they've run to the Barretts.

Both men know about Laken, since they were at the warehouse to prepare to swap her for Kate.

Taking the Andretti compound was a risky move on my part, but I thought it was the safest way to wipe out the majority of their forces.

My plan was mostly successful, except for Kurran and Adair.

I bet they didn't even fight with their men.

They seem the type to run at the first sign of trouble.

Just like their boss.

With them still on the loose, I don't see how I can allow Laken to go back to her life.

I suppose I could place a team or two with her, but even then, it doesn't seem like enough of a guarantee.

She looked up at me and begged me to protect her.

And I gave her my word that I would.

That means Laken Spencer is now my responsibility until I can wipe the Barretts off the map.

I startle as the omega in question leans over my prone form. "May I help you?"

She grunts, waving a hand. "Scoot over."

"No."

"Fine, be stubborn." She climbs over my outstretched body but freezes while she's still on top of me.

My hands instantly move to her hips to help ensure she doesn't fall off the edge of the mattress. Only, Tanner's T-shirt has ridden up with her movement, and I realize quickly that I'm touching bare skin.

To be fair, so is Laken, since I'm shirtless.

"You showered," she says.

"I did," I agree, trying to smooth the material down over her backside.

"I liked it better before." Her cold nose plasters itself to my throat. "Your scent was stronger."

I'm not sure what's happening, but I don't feel the overwhelming urge to chuck her off of me. In general, I do not enjoy being touched, and yet, that doesn't seem to apply to this omega.

"It was also mixed with the metallic scent of blood." My head tilts as I appraise her.

Does she also have an attraction to the scent of freshly spilled blood?

"Where is my sister?" She stops holding herself up on her knees, which plasters her front to mine. "Why won't anyone let me talk to her?"

"Lyra is safe." I clear my throat, keeping my voice low to avoid waking Tanner. "I'm afraid she wasn't in good shape when she made her way to us. She's currently at a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center in Florida. They take away the patient's cell phone to avoid them leaving prematurely. Although, she voluntarily checked herself in, and she could do the same to check out if she wishes to leave early."

Laken pushes up, using my shoulders as leverage. Her nose wrinkles as she studies my face. "Are you lying?"

"No."

"I knew she didn't look right the last time I saw her, but it was her scent that made me nervous. She smelled off. I thought it was just my overly sensitive omega nose. You promise she's safe?"

"I give you my word. However, whether or not she chooses to check herself out of the Miami facility early is not something within my control."

"I get that." She slides down toward the mattress and ends up between my side and arm. "What are you busy worrying about? I'm pretty sure your discomfort woke me up."

My pride bristles.

I'm not uncomfortable.

I'm simply unsure how to handle her.

She's feistier than I expected, meaning she could give me a great deal of trouble when I inform her that she'll be coming back to Virginia with me.

Her small hand begins to rub over my bare chest, and I stare at the contact. Very few people attempt to touch me, and I'm confused why she is. I'm even more thrown for a loop that it doesn't disgust me.

"See, it's making my impulses itch to soothe whatever is bothering you."

"I'm fine. You need rest."

"I would be if you weren't all tormented alpha, setting off my instincts." Her tone indicates she's exasperated by me.

I war with myself over controlling the situation, and possibly losing her trust, or being forthcoming, which could bite me in the ass.

There's a third option, and I suppose it could help us find a common understanding.

Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of learning from my mistakes.

My hand settles on Laken's hip as she nuzzles her face to my skin. "My intentions were to remove all those who had information of your involvement in what happened tonight. Despite those attempts, several of Andretti's men escaped. Not from his compound, but from the warehouse where your trade was originally supposed to take place."

"Your scent is so weird to me," she says sleepily. "I couldn't describe it if I tried."

I frown, tilting my face to look at hers.

Perhaps the exhaustion is getting to her.

"I'm fond of your scent also," I admit without meaning to. "However, you asked for information, and I'm attempting to give it to you."

"Sorry, boss. Carry on."

My eyes narrow as I attempt to determine if she's being sarcastic.

I am the boss.

A natural leader.

However, most are reluctant to acknowledge my position.

"It would be unwise to return home prior to all threats being neutralized." It will also give me additional time to determine why I'm enjoying the feeling of her warm breath fanning over my skin as her hand brushes my chest.

I enjoy personal space.

And yet, I don't want to remove her from mine.

"I can't just stay missing. If I don't get back to Chicago soon, I'll be without a job and get evicted from my apartment."

It's disturbing that not a single person has reported her missing. I spoke to our tech team on the way to the hotel to verify it was still the case, and it is. Her sister clearly knows she was taken, but those of us who live in the gray don't turn to the police for assistance.

We handle it in-house.

"Anyone who learns of your whereabouts is a potential victim when the Barretts begin searching for information. They won't hesitate to torture anyone they believe might have an inkling of your location."

"They'd have it all wrong, though, wouldn't they?" she asks, turning farther into my shoulder. "I don't have the first clue why I'm involved in any of this or what your goal was in killing all those people. I basically know your name and that your family's mess got me kidnapped. They could ask all day, but it would be just like with those last assholes."

My head tilts as I try to parcel out if she's lying to cover for Tanner.

He's chatty, with not many brain cells.

I imagine she could bat her lashes, and he would spew a lot of information he was told not to share.

"I'm afraid you got tangled up in this mess because of Lyra. She gave your former captor's information about my sister. They wanted more and tracked her to Chicago." I frown, realizing she's turning me into Tanner.

When, exactly, did I get so chatty?

"Only, they grabbed me instead," she says. "Yeah, I got that part, but I don't like that you're implying Lyra had anything to do with starting all of this. To me, it sounds like your family's problem spilled over to include me and my sister."

"You're correct," I admit. Hopefully, Sparrow learned from her mistakes. When she ran, it started a chain of events that's still playing out to this day. "I'm sorry for your involvement. Now that you're in the middle of things, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to give me your trust for a little longer. If you want to ensure your safety, I need you to listen to the advice I give you."

"Why do you even care?"

My right hand moves to intercept her fingers that are strangely tracing the indents of my abs. If she goes much lower, she'll trigger a physical response neither of us are prepared for.

I clasp her fingers in mine, bringing our hands to rest closer to my chest than my cock. "I work for a company that specializes in countering omega traffickers. We're not always on the right side of the law, but morally, the work we do is sound. I would offer my protection to anyone in your situation."

Laken goes stiff in my hold, and she rips her hand from mine. "Good to know."

With that, she rolls until she's facing the bathroom and doesn't say another word, leaving me to lie awake, pondering what the hell I said that made her so uncomfortable.

Laken's scent floods my nose as I blink awake. The little omega is like a furnace, sweating against my chest. It's the electric tinge to her smell that throws my system out of whack. My hand tightens against her bare ass as she wiggles against my hard cock.

Her face burns my skin, causing true alarm to rip through my system for the first time in too many years to count.

Is she ill?

Did she sustain some type of injury that has now become infected?

Her core shimmies over my dick, and my nose twitches with the scent of her perfume.

Good god.

I've been around potent omegas.

Vale and Kate both smell appalling to my senses. However, I find myself having a very different reaction to Laken.

Mount.

Rut.

Breed.

Claim.

My mind circles through all the things I'd like to do to her.

It's alarming.

I consider it a gift that I've never been influenced by my instincts to pursue an omega.

And yet, my mouth waters with the need to taste her.

It's a problem.

I can never claim an omega of my own, and it was convenient that I never seemed to fall prey to the same desires as my peers. Carefully prying myself out from under her feverish form, I stumble toward the door.

"Whoa," Tanner whispers, sitting up straight in his bed as his head cocks predatorily.

I don't bother with a shirt, simply snag my key card from the table. "She's burning up. Take care of that."

"What the hell does that mean?" Tanner hisses.

I don't respond as I open and close the door, striding out to…

I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

"What?" Grady grunts, yanking open the door to the hotel room he's sharing with my sister. "You forgot your shirt." He gives me a once-over, pointing at my dick. "Damn, man, no wonder you're so cocky. Still, you might want to put that weapon away."

I swipe a hand over my face. "It's been like this since I woke up. It's very unsettling. That's not why I'm here." That might be a small misdirection of the truth. Still, I never fall victim to physical desires, and I need to know why this is happening. "I need to speak to Kane."

Grady chuckles. "I had a feeling, based on your reaction to her and her reaction to you."

"What does that mean?" I growl, taking a step forward.

"Hold." Grady backs up, preparing to close the door in my face. "I don't get paid enough for this. I'll get Kane."

I don't pay him at all, which only makes me more irate.

I spin in a circle as my instincts try to drag me back toward my hotel room.

My body aches with the urge to smell her scent and even taste it, which doesn't make rational sense. If she was in front of me now, I'd lick every inch of her skin, and even that wouldn't satiate my need for her.

Kane pops out the door, yanking a T-shirt down over his chest. "What's wrong?" he asks, instantly on edge.

I growl, slamming my forearm against his chest. It shoves him back against the closed door. "Three years ago, you told me you knew my sister was a scent match, and then you rambled about something else. Repeat those things I ignored the first time around."

Kane's face breaks out into a shitty smile that makes me ache to rip his head from his shoulders. "No fucking way."

"You talked nonsensically about storms and lightning, electricity, and compatibility," I growl, baring my teeth. "Explain that to me now."