21. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Shadow

C hannel surfing on YouTube is only fun when you’re supposed to be doing something else.

Too bad I’m up to date with all my usual podcasts. I’m excited for lunch so I’m really not paying much attention to anything I’m watching besides.

Even the true crime stuff goes in one ear and straight out the other.

Well, until the Goldcrest Academy conspiracy theory stuff starts to filter into my feed.

Ever since the notorious serial killer Frank Palmer murdered a bunch of people here, armchair detectives have been trying to figure out what he was doing out here.

The boring theory is that the bastard son he was obsessed with was working here at the time, or maybe just shortly before he showed up here. The records don’t seem to verify that, but it’s the most likely and least outlandish explanation.

Some of the other theories people are pushing are just plain crazy.

He had a pretty specific M.O. up until he came out here.

Reporters, cops, and anyone with a brain agree that he must have gone off the rails when he couldn’t get into the building. Psychotic people don’t tend to do well when they don’t get what they want. His victims that night were unlucky bystanders.

The fact that he was killed later that night by the same son he was suspected of coming to the academy to see only makes that theory even more likely.

The video I stumble across has a slightly different take, and despite how batshit it sounds, I can’t help but watch the two twenty-something girls with their gossipy schoolkid vibes.

“I know, I know, the whole freaking world believes he was there to see his son,” the brunette says. “But he could have visited him at home, or whatever. Did he really have to go to the place he was working? Especially when it’s so well guarded.”

“Right,” the blonde nods. “That totally doesn’t make any sense.”

“But do you know what does?”

“Um … Alpha creeps wanting to steal Omegas?”

“Totally,” the brunette nods.

I can’t say they’re wrong about that. I’ve had an experience or two with Alpha creeps, and if it wasn’t for Pete, who the hell knows what might have happened to me in the past?

I shudder as I watch these two discussing Frank Palmer and his motives for visiting Goldcrest.

I’m so transfixed that I barely notice when Pete gets up from the couch opposite.

When he puts a couple of takeout bags down on the coffee table in front of me, I almost jump out of my skin.

“Food’s here,” he tells me as I take my ear pods out.

“I have eyes,” I murmur as I try to catch my breath and calm my racing heart.

I pause the video to go back to it later, and I put the ear pods in their case, and into my pocket while Pete brings the food out of the bags.

Lana moves over to where we are, and Pete stands back, smiling when she slips into the seat across from me. Of course he wants to sit down next to her. I’ll allow it, but only since my perfume is super strong right now after a morning spent in bed with Ezra. I shouldn’t try to get her feeling the full effect of my scent until she knows we’re going to be mated.

“I was thinking,” Pete starts, as he picks out Lana’s meal and puts it down in front of her.

She looks up at him. “About what?”

“Those basement rooms. And the schedule for your security guards.”

“Basement rooms?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him as I grab a straw for my shake.

“It’s probably nothing,” he says. “But I’d feel better if I could check them out whenever that office isn’t being manned.”

She frowns. “I’m not sure how easy that’ll be. It’s the heart of the security department. There’s always someone down there.”

Pete doesn’t look surprised. He clears his throat as he takes the last of the food out of the bags.

“The security office shouldn’t be all the way down in the basement. It should be next door, or down this hallway, close enough that you can access it whenever you’d like. You’re the head of this academy. The people here are under your care. You’re the one who has the final say on everything that happens here, and you should be telling your security staff their office needs to be moved up here.”

Uh oh. Here comes trouble.

Pete might think everyone in this building should bow down to Lana, but he’s very clearly not including himself in that category.

She doesn’t look very happy as she puts her sandwich down and looks back at him.

“Look, I know you guys have a security company, and you know your shit or whatever, but I have work to do that doesn’t involve uprooting a major department. A lot of work. This isn’t the time for big changes. I’ll add it to my list, but I’m not moving the security office anytime soon.”

Pete doesn’t look too pleased with that answer, but he stays quiet.

He sits down next to her, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “But I’d like to take that key and check the basement rooms out at some point when you need to speak to that guy again.”

“Uh, Melvin? Why do you want to wait until I need to speak to him again?”

“He’s going to ask you to call him up here,” I tell her, before Pete can get the chance.

She sighs. “Seriously? You ran security checks on my existing guards, didn’t you?”

“They’re still processing.”

“Melvin’s not up to something.”

“Given the circumstances, I’d rather make sure of that myself.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me eat all the frickles,” I admit, as I reach for that box.

I don’t always stress eat, but when I do, it’s usually because two or more of my mates are arguing. The tension between them isn’t sexy. Maybe I should have sat next to Lana after all.

Anything would be better than feeling like one of them is about to yell something mean and storm out of the room. I know neither of them is about to do that exact thing. It just really feels like it.

“You should wait for Owen to get here,” I tell Pete, before I start eating the deep-fried slices of pickle.

Pete slowly turns to look at me. “Owen?”

I’m enjoying that first intense, salty burst of flavor when I realize he doesn’t know.

Huh. It’s kind of funny how quickly I forgot about it.

I swallow and reach for my shake.

Pete’s still looking at me expectantly as I take a sip of the smooth vanilla milkshake.

I set the cup back down and sigh in satisfaction. “Ezra worked a miracle. Owen’s coming out here.”

“You’re kidding.” He doesn’t believe me.

“Cross my heart,” I promise. “He said he’d be here this evening.”

“Holy shit,” Pete mutters, as he picks up a fry.

Lana glances at me. “Who’s Owen, and why is he coming here?”

Right. Yeah. She doesn’t know.

“Owen’s our other Alpha.”