Page 22 of Into the Fire: Before

Awww cmon! I gave it to you.

Lin

Give it to us Friday night instead.

Taryn

Ugh.

Fine.

;)

Lin

Bye, Taryn.

Taryn

Bye, crybaby.

Twenty-seven

Taryn

I’dneverinmylife seen so many omegas in one place. On paper, there were hardly any of us; our numbers had been steadily decreasing for over a century. But holyshitwe were so many off paper. At least two hundred of us stood scattered along the sidewalk of Farendale’s business district, some with signs, others—like me—with just themselves. Cars honked as they drove by, and even just the volume of so many people talking at once was like incredible.

Most of the gathered omegas wore some kind of scent blockers, and anyone on heat control would have reduced pheromones anyway. Still, the swirl of hundreds of unique omega fragrances bordered on overstimulation. I relished it, though. A whiff of strawberry, then of birthday cake. Espresso, pink lemonade, basil and mandarin, mint and lime. The hodge-podge perfume linked us, siblings with a common cause.

One of my regulars at the shop—Sheyna, another omega—had shared the event with me online. A demonstration to demandthat our state representative voteyeson HB25-17 to abolish the outdated Omega Census, one of the last anti-omega institutions left.

In theory, it was for purely demographic reasons—funding for designation services, population tracking, heat clinics, stuff like that. But omegas—andonlyomegas—were required to Register within a year of presenting.

I’d refused. So had Mom and Gran.

Brea’d been hinting lately that, once she was graduated and stable, we could focus onmydream. Whatever that was. To be honest, though, I’d always been content to be the shop girl. Had been for the years I spent staffing Gran’s shop in Pockston, and then at the various cafes, bodegas, and corner stores I’d worked in as we traipsed city to city. I hadn’t particularly enjoyed my school days, and things like bank loans and college applications became a sticky mess for an omega without a Census Number.

So far as I was concerned, a happy life eating Sunday pancakes with my alpha was the worthiest ambition of all.

Every so often, though, I yearned for something just a little bit bigger. Not a fancy degree or a corner office. Like what I’d told Lin and Brooks up on the roof, being the kind of omega that alphas of eras past would hate. Getting loud and rough and dirty in the name of winning the last few battles we still had left.

I hadn’t told Brea about the event today. Much less that I was attending it, alone. Today, she was meeting her first real client as her residency began in earnest, and I didn’t want to distract or worry her about me.

Besides, this felt like something for me. For me, and Mom, and Gran.

We stood outside one of the handful of skyscrapers Farendale boasted, this one a standard glass cereal box. A sleek steel overhang sheltered the entrance at a slight slant, a hint of art in an otherwise fairly utilitarian design. The entry doors werespotless glass with angular steel handles and the building’s name,The Corinthian,frosted in an elegant serif.

The doors to the building opened, and a group of men in business suits walked out. Among them, building namesake Corinth Wainwright himself, our state’s junior congressman. A tall, pale alpha with over-coiffed black hair and thick black eyebrows, Corinth was only the latest big name in the Wainwright family dynasty. Before him, his father and grandfather had focused on building out the multibillion-dollar Wainwright Corporation, which had a near monopoly on alpha and omega supplements—the blockers, suppressants, coolants, and dampeners almost everyone around me probably used daily.

Corinth was the first to branch into politics only a year ago, and this fall’s congressional meeting would be his first major vote.

Shouts rose up around me as the crowd followed Corinth down the sidewalk. A chant broke out,leave omegas be, which I joined in shouting.

“Leave omegas be!”Let us just fucking exist.

“Leave omegas be!”We’re people. Just plain people.

“Leave omegas be!”I shouted it to every asshole who’d leered at and catcalled me, to every creep who’d alpha-barked at me in public then laughed as I flinched and fought against the command, to backwards asshats like Caine Arceneaux who considered my very being aninconvenience.

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