6. Red Mist

SIX

RED MIST

Oliver stood alone in the shower, face burning as he buried his head in his hands. Fuck . What had he been thinking? Inviting Lucas, a red-blooded alpha, back to his flat after they’d both been exposed to the omega’s pheromones? Of course , it was only going to end one way, and of course , he’d moaned like a wanton whore throughout the whole thing.

Professionalism? Gone . Any shred of respect Lucas may have had for him? Decimated . God, he was an idiot. A grade-A twat. It didn’t matter that Lucas had kissed him on the forehead as he left, or promised to call when he knew more, or even offered to revive the stupid cat-grass. There was no way on God’s green earth that he’d be able to look the alpha in the eye tomorrow. In fact, he may as well just hand in his warrant card and move to the Bermuda Triangle. Yes. Yes, that was most definitely the most logical course of action. Now if he could just find his passport…

His phone buzzed as he got out the shower. It was Matteus.

“Ollie?” he said, voice thick with sleep.

Oliver swallowed, trying to keep his voice nice and normal. “Yeah?”

“What’s happened? I can feel you pacing through the bond.”

Sighing, he scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Matty, it’s past midnight. Go back to sleep.”

“Nancy texted and said you and Lucas left early. I was going to leave you to it, but then?—”

“I…er…I wasn’t feeling too well. He made sure I got home safe.”

“Is he there now?”

“No.” That part was true, at least.

“Are you okay, Ollie? Are you sure this is definitely just a cold?”

“Yep. Now go back to sleep before Julian gets pissy with me again.”

“He’s not pissy with you, Ollie. We’re just worried.”

“Matty, please. There is nothing to worry about. I’m under the weather, that’s all.”

“Right. How was your first day on Op Sceptre?”

“Matty, I’m not discussing this with you in the middle of the night. Good night .”

After hanging up, he spent a few minutes hunting for his discarded pyjamas, grimacing when he scooped them up from the kitchen floor. They were damp with his slick, which sent a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him. ‘I just love to see you suffer, Reed.’ Isn’t that what Lucas had said? Well, he was damn well suffering now. Bastard .

His hand drifted to the wet towel that was draped over the kitchen chair. It smelled like the alpha, and without thinking he brought it up to his nose. He closed his eyes, inhaling the heady masculine scent. It was stronger than when he’d shoved his face in his hair the previous day—a deeper, more musky scent. He thought about burning the towel and pyjamas—but then reasoned he was being dramatic—so threw them both into the laundry basket.

Changing into a fresh set of pyjamas, he cleaned his teeth and slumped on the bed.

“Don’t you judge me,” he said, looking up at Roger the koala.

Roger, of course, said nothing back.

His thoughts drifted to Lucas. How his own body had reacted towards the alpha, begging, pleading to be taken. To be blanketed in his scent and grounded in his arms. Throwing a pillow across his face, he groaned. He didn’t want to feel like that anymore, like his mind and body were pulling him in two different directions.

Then his phone rang again. He ignored it. It rang again a minute later. “Oh, just piss off!” He cried into his pillow.Didn’t the phone know he wanted to wallow in silence?

He relented when it rang for a third time, throat going dry when he saw Lucas’ name pop up on the screen. “Hello,” he said, trying to sound like he hadn’t just been kicking and screaming in the middle of his bed like a toddler.

“Reed. Good, I thought you’d fallen asleep.”

As if, you big fucking idiot.

Clearing his throat, Oliver said, “What’s happening? Has Helena actually gone missing?”

“Unfortunately, yes. She snuck out the care home last night. We’ve got her on CCTV getting into a van at the end of the driveway. Shirley Spencer called it in.”

“Shit. So Shirley’s been doing a stand up fucking job, as always.”

Lucas hummed, it sounded muffled, as if he were in a vehicle. “The boss wants us to bring the search warrant forward to this morning. I’ll pick you up on the way in.”

“N-No, that’s okay. I’ll get the bus.”

“At five thirty in the morning?”

“What? Jesus, that’s an early start.”

He glanced at the clock again. That was in four hours’ time.

“Are you going to be sober by then?” Lucas said.

Oliver scoffed. He’d sobered up the moment Inspector Callahan called during their little passion project on the kitchen floor. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yes. Blake is giving me a lift back to the hotel.”

“Hi Ollie!” The other sergeant called. Oliver’s face turned crimson, hoping on everything holy that Blake wasn’t aware of what happened. Could he still smell his scent on Lucas? Would they talk about it, alpha to alpha? Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Reed?” Lucas said. “Wear casual clothes. It’s going to be a long day.”

The tension in his brows eased a little. “Coming from you?”

Lucas huffed, “I’ll let you take me shopping when this is over.”

With that, Oliver hung up. Because he absolutely did not need DS Smith hearing the two of them speaking to one another like old chums.

When Oliver’s alarm went off at 5:00am, he felt—and looked—as though he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair stuck up at angles that even products couldn’t fix. Sighing, he resigned himself to looking a little wild and hungover that day—the black tracksuit he’d picked out certainly didn’t help with the back alley raggamuffin look.

He let out a sharp breath as the familiar roar of the V6 twin turbo sounded outside his apartment building. Taking a quick look out his bedroom window, he saw Lucas pull up on the side of the road, arm lazily hanging across the open window. The butterflies in Oliver’s belly fluttered around as though they were having a school fucking reunion. Thankfully, his cock was behaving itself, but he took another round of suppressants, just to be sure.

Feeling like an inmate making the long walk to the executioner’s chair, he trudged towards the car. The radio was on, and he could hear soft jazz playing through the open window.

“Morning,” the alpha said as Oliver slid into the front passenger seat.

“Morning,” he replied, looking ahead as he clicked the seatbelt into place.

“Did you sleep?”

“Not really. You?”

“No.”

Oliver’s gaze slipped across the centre console, falling on the grey jogging bottoms clinging to Lucas’ toned thighs. “Are those from the custody store?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

A grin split Lucas’ face. “How astute, DC Reed.”

“Do you need locking up?”

“What for?”

Oliver wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms. “Crimes against fashion.”

Lucas huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think that’s a real offence.”

“It’s as real as herbaceous neglect.”

“Are you going to handcuff me, Reed?”

Oliver’s nostrils flared as he looked down at his lap. When he didn’t answer, a paper bag and takeaway cup appeared under his nose. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast,” Lucas replied.

Opening the bag, he found a croissant—its buttery flakiness making his hungover mouth water. “Is this your way of getting me to have breakfast with you?”

Lucas only grinned as he put the car into gear. Taking a sip of coffee, Oliver let out a long breath and gazed out the window. The heated leather seats were on, and he could have slipped into a coffee and croissant-induced coma there and then. He’d expected to be a stuttering mess upon seeing Lucas again, but something about the alpha’s stoic demeanour put his nerves at ease. If Lucas wasn’t going to make it weird, then neither was he.

“Reed.” Lucas tapped the back of his hand. “Did you hear what I said?”

“S-Sorry, what?”

“I asked how’re you feeling about the warrant today?”

“Oh…well, it’ll make a nice change to interviewing paedophiles, I guess. I can’t remember the last time Nancy or I executed a warrant.”

Lucas nodded, turning the car onto the main road. “We’ve got five Special Branch alphas assisting with the warrant. Plus DS Smith, myself, and a handful of betas. We don’t know what we’ll be walking into, or how many of the dealership staff are involved. I want you, Nancy and Harry to stay towards the back until everything’s secured. No amateur dramatics, got it?”

Oliver tutted and sucked his teeth. “Nancy and I might be Bluey loving grandmothers, but we’re still police officers.”

“Reed,” Lucas said, voice threateningly low. “That’s an order.”

Oliver frowned and brushed the croissant flakes from the side of his mouth. “Are you pulling rank on me, DS White?”

Lucas smirked. “Someone’s got to.”

There was an unexpected sight as they stepped into the briefing room. The West Newton and Metropolitan officers were chatting and laughing like old pals.

“Did I miss something?” He asked, as Nancy handed him the morning’s briefing documents.

“Oh, only the best night in the history of pub crawls. After you left, we moved on to The Nock and Ore. They had the tennis courts open, so we played a couple of games. Every time someone scored, the other team had to take a shot. Let’s just say neither teams were scoring many points by the end. Harry was still drunk this morning, he got sent home by Blake.”

Oliver tutted. “What a cock.”

Nancy sat back in her chair, grinning as she stretched towards the ceiling. Oliver could see she was gazing at someone amongst the Metropolitan officers, but couldn’t make out who.

“Anyway,” she said, when she saw him looking. “Feeling better?”

“Not bad, thanks.”

“DS White take good care of you?” Nancy wiggled her eyebrows.

Oliver blanched, clutching his half-drunk coffee, “Yes… I mean no . He left soon after dropping me off.”

“Uh-huh,” Nancy replied, giving him an amused look. “The Cherry Tree’s a bit out of the way for a coffee, don’t you think?”

“I… what?”

She tapped his cup. Turning it in his hand, he was horrified to see the hotel’s logo stamped in big, golden letters across the pink background. “Careful, pal. That’s how rumours start,” she said, a wide smile spreading across her face. She dropped her head close to his ear. “But between you and me… good on you. That’s one hunky piece of alpha meat.”

“Jesus Christ, will you shut up?”

“Not denying it though, are you, Ollie?” She said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I didn’t… it’s not… and just who are you looking at, anyway?”

Nancy chuckled, twirling her red braid around a finger. “Oh, only the most beautiful blonde you’ve ever seen. After you, of course. But that’s all I’ll say.”

“Listen in,” Lucas’ voice boomed across the briefing room. Everyone fell silent as they turned their eyes to the front. “Thank you for coming in early. I know some of you are running on very little sleep.”

Nancy’s eyes slid to Oliver, and he answered her smug expression with a scowl.

“Familiarise yourself with the briefing document,” Lucas continued. “We’ll be heading out in ten minutes. DC Purslow, do you have a list of call signs?”

With a piece of paper clutched in her hand, Nancy stood and cleared her throat. “Yes, DS White. Shall I begin roll call?” Lucas nodded. “Right. DS White you are bravo delta one, DS Smith bravo delta two…” She carried on until she reached Oliver. “DC Reed, you are charlie papa one, myself charlie papa two…”

When she had finished, Oliver frowned and nudged her with his elbow. “Charlie papa, I get. Child protection. But what’s bravo delta all about?”

Nancy smirked, hiding her mouth behind the sheet of paper. “Big Daddy,” she said, biting her lip to contain a laugh.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot, Nance.”

Nancy smiled, “But you love me.”

“It’s a good job I do,” he replied.

They rode in near silence in the back of the police van, the only sound coming from an exceptionally chipper Special Branch alpha, who sat in the corner chewing and popping a piece of gum. Oliver sighed, trying to ignore the way his stab vest pinched under his armpits, or how tight it felt across his shoulder blades. Either, all the training he’d been doing at the club was paying off, or he’d eaten too many biscuits over the winter period. Either way, he wished he’d have loosened the straps before putting it on.

“You’re a detective?” A voice came from opposite him. It was another Special Branch alpha, his dark green eyes drifting to the epaulettes on Oliver’s shoulder. He was handsome. Extremely fucking handsome now that Oliver was looking at him. Dark hair and a jaw so sharp it could crack open a bottle of beer.

Oliver nodded. “Child protection,” he said, his neck bristling at how their knees almost touched across the gap.

The officer grimaced. “Child protection sounds depressing.”

Oliver shrugged. “It can be.”

The officer grinned and leaned forward, the Glock strapped to his thigh brushing Oliver’s leg. “Don’t worry, little beta. I’ll protect you.”

Oliver sucked his teeth and leant forward. “Thank goodness for that.”

“Sidney,” Lucas barked from the front of the van. “Head in the game.”

“Yes, sarge,” the alpha replied, dropping his gaze before leaning back in his seat.

Oliver smirked, resting his forearm on the handcuff harness and bite-back spray at his hip. That was until he felt Nancy’s elbow in his ribs. “I’m beginning to think you have a type, Ollie,” she whispered close to his ear.

“And I’m beginning to think you should be quiet.”

Nancy chuckled. “Please don’t be rude, because my rude will out-rude your rude.”

The van rolled to a stop at the rendezvous point as each team confirmed their roles. Then, all hell broke loose as they descended on the dealership. Oliver expected to meet the worried faces of the staff, all of whom were probably completely innocent. Instead, the only worried faces were those of the customers perusing the showroom.

“Shit!” a man in sales yelled, dropping a clipboard as he shoved past an elderly couple that were neck-deep in a show-vehicle’s boot. It caused a mechanic with a white streak of hair to shout and drop his toolkit, sending spanners skittering across the floor. Then the receptionist threw herself around the desk and sprinted towards a back door. Eight members of staff star-burst in different directions, and Oliver couldn’t decide who to chase first. The radio clipped to his chest burst into life as a flurry of call signs hurriedly relayed observations to the control room.

“Bravo delta two, suspect making towards the main road,” he heard DS Smith shout up.

“Charlie whiskey three, suspect apprehended.”

“Charlie whiskey two, suspect on foot towards the workshop.”

He and Nancy were about to go for the receptionist, when Lucas clapped both of them on the shoulder. “Stay here,” he growled, shoving them towards the police van. Then he withdrew his taser and sprinted after one of the fugitives.

“Lucas—fuck!” Oliver tried to protest, but the alpha was already halfway up the forecourt. With no other choice, he snapped his baton out of its holster, drawing it to its full length.

“Ollie…” Nancy growled. “The sergeant told us to stay here.”

“I know, Nance. But he didn’t say we couldn’t pick off any stragglers that circle back.”

Nancy let out a long breath before nodding and withdrawing her canister of bite-back spray. Because if shifter wolves hated anything, it was having a canister of peppermint haze sprayed up their nostrils.

“Well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events, DC Reed?” She said, bumping Oliver with her shoulder as they watched the Special Branch alphas running around. They were nothing like Oliver had ever seen. Smooth, coordinated… not to mention fit as fuck.

“It certainly is, DC Purslow.”

Suddenly, a wolf flung itself across the bonnet of the van, hurtling straight into them. It was the mechanic, white stripe across his head, fur dripping with sweat, and a feral look in his eyes.

“Hello there,” Oliver said, half grinning as he jumped on the wolf, grabbing its scruff as Nancy leapt onto its back. The wolf snarled, eyes wild as it thrashed.

“Cute,” Oliver growled back, jamming his knuckles behind the wolf's ear and forcing it to shift back into human form.

The now very sweaty, human shaped man was slippery in Oliver’s grasp, but he managed to slap a pair of handcuffs onto the man’s skinny wrists. “You’re under arrest for facilitating the exploitation of a child. You do not have to say anything—ah!” The mechanic somehow twisted in Oliver’s grip, pushing up onto his haunches and head-butting him right between the eyes.

He saw stars for a moment, not knowing which way was up or down. “You… fucking… twatting—” he cursed as the world sizzled back into focus.

Nancy was barely hanging onto the man as he kicked and flailed, one of his feet smacking her square in the jaw. Adrenaline flooded Oliver's veins in a rush of cold-hard focus as he slipped his arms around the man’s body, flipping him onto his front and ramming his knee into his armpit. The man stilled, though his body was tense under Oliver’s weight.

“Charlie papa two, this is charlie papa two,” Nancy shouted over the radio. “Suspect apprehended. Charlie papa one has been injured.”

Oliver was about to bark back that he was not injured, which was when he noticed all the blood covering the front of his stab vest. He ran his fingers under his nose, all five of them coming away coated in claret. Damn, the fucker had popped his nose good and proper.

“Bravo delta one, DS White. Nancy, where are you and DC Reed?” Lucas’ voice crackled over the radio.

“By the van, sarge,” Nancy replied. “You all good, Ollie?” She said, eyeing Oliver’s bloodied face.

He gave her the thumbs up, though he could taste the blood between his teeth. “Yeah.”

“You’ve got red on you,” she said, grinning.

Footsteps thundered around the side of the van, and Oliver just about saw a pair of feet under the sill. He thought for a moment that the Special Branch officers were coming to their rescue, however; the world slowed as another of the suspects rounded the corner, face ablaze and a knife clutched in his hand.

Oliver shot to his feet. “Drop the knife!” he shouted, drawing back his baton in a defensive stance.

“Not a fucking chance,” the man hissed lunging forward.

Oliver dodged to the left, smashing his baton up into the man’s elbow with a sickening crunch. The knife arced through the air, spinning as it landed on top of the van. Then they were on the ground, brawling like two feral alley cats. The man was an alpha. Oliver could smell his scent and feel his strength as a shoulder rammed into his broken nose. They flipped, the alpha gaining the upper hand despite his injured elbow.

“Sigma scum,” he snarled, drawing his head back and smashing it down onto Oliver’s face again.

He yelped as more blood sprayed from his nose, and he thought for one sickening moment that the man had shattered all of his teeth. His survival instincts kicked in and he could feel his wolf snarling and gnashing to be let loose.

Then, someone dragged the man back, a huge hand gripping his neck with unbelievable strength. It was Lucas, eyes ablaze with something Oliver had never seen in him before. Anger, fury, bitter hatred. He shoved the man against the van, and they grappled for dominance for what felt like an eternity, but must have only been a split second.

He was vaguely aware of Nancy shedding her clothes as she prepared to shift, but everything else was tunnel vision as he watched, wide-eyed, as the alpha’s fought.

An ear-splitting howl ripped through the air as Lucas’ stab vest tore open, sending his radio, taser, baton, pava and bite-back canisters skittering across the forecourt. Both the alphas shifted in that split-second. Now a massive muddy brown wolf lay pinned beneath one of pure black. Oliver suspected Lucas had been the enormous ebony wolf from the park, but now he was certain.

Lucas’ jaws snapped around the other wolf's throat, his head twitching wildly as he forced him down. All he needed was to trap the man in an alpha death shake and it would all be over. For both of them. But then his hazel eyes slid to Oliver, molten with a searing intensity that should have been frightening, but somehow wasn’t. Blood sprayed from the other wolf’s neck, splattering across Lucas’ muzzle as he kept his eyes fixed on Oliver.

‘Protect…Hurt…Hurt…Protect…Protect.’

The words, no , the intention ricocheted between them, sinking into Oliver’s cerebral cortex until he was rocking forward on unsteady legs and dropping his head. ‘Safe…Safe…Safe…Safe…Stop.’

“S-Stop,” Oliver said, his human voice coming out in a stuttering tumble. “Lucas, stop!” He called, stronger the second time.

The rage seemed to drain away for a split second, enough for the other wolf to wriggle out of Lucas’ death grip. But then a sound rumbled from deep within Lucas’ throat, a strange, feral growl. Something old. Something primal. All the daylight seemed to be sucked away, as Oliver suddenly found himself in his sandy-wolf form. When did he shift? When did?—

Special Branch officers sprinted towards them, some human, others wolves as their feet thundered across the tarmac. The betas had their weapons drawn, and all of them were snarling.

Expecting them to take hold of the suspect, Oliver barked and growled in confusion when they laid hands on Lucas instead. The shifted alphas piled on top of him, biting the back of his neck and forcing him onto his belly. It took five of them to finally subdue Lucas, and they wasted no time in hauling him away.

Everything after that was a blur. The man Oliver half-arrested was thrown into the back of an unmarked car, kicking and spitting at the other officers. Nancy sat in her wolf form on the ground next to him, watching as the other officers tried to keep the situation contained. She pressed her sweaty muzzle into Oliver’s ear, licking him before jerking away.

Five people were arrested on suspicion of child exploitation offences, one customer for theft. The idiot thought he’d try his luck amongst the chaos, by attempting to steal a showroom vehicle.

“Friend…” Nancy said, resting her head on her paws. Though they shared no formal pack bond, they’d run together enough times to hear one another's thoughts. Her thoughts were low and cautious as she said, “Felt that? Power. From the howl?”

“Yes.”

“The alpha. Your mate?”