Page 25 of Vallaverse: Noir
“A mate?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. A partner. I'm a PI.”
“A detective? Like in the movies?”
I fight the urge to laugh. “Yes. Like in the movies. That's why I'm here.”
“You're on a what? A case?”
“Yes. I'm looking for someone.”
His hand moves up to bring a bit of my hair to his nose. “You didn't come to the Selection to find a mate?”
“No,” I answer truthfully. “I stopped looking for a mate years ago. Beckett is an accident. You are an accident. I wasn't looking for anyone like that.”
“Can you tell me about your case?”
I shrug. “There isn't much to tell. I'm still looking for a trail.”
“Maybe I can help.”
Now, that's a thought. He probably has all sorts of resources. Lots of contacts. Lots of money to bribe people with. Lots of weight to throw around. “I don't know. Probably not. If I let you help, then Beckett will want to help. And I won't put him at risk.”
“The case is that serious?” he asks, going from casually interested to alert in a breath. I can already hear him trying to order me to stay out of harm's way.
“Don't get any ideas. It's my job. I'm not giving it up.”
“Well,” Pierce says, but doesn't finish the statement.
We sit in silence for a while, just quietly getting used to each other's bodies and aura. Pierce feels so strong. I've been around Alphas my whole life and I have never once noticed any of them feeling strong. I honestly try to not notice them at all if I don't have a reason to. Unless they have something I need or information I'm looking for, I don't bother.
“You haven't marked him yet,” Pierce says, his lips moving against my temple. He's stopped running his hands over me and he's just holding me now with his arm around my back and one hand resting across my knees.
“I want to wait until he's less frenzied.” I look over at Beckett, still sleeping soundly. “I wanted him to have a chance at remembering it. I'd want to remember it. I thought about waiting until he's out of heat, but I don't like the marks he has all over him.”
Pierce gently rubs his jaw against my hair. “No,” he hums. “I didn't like them, either. I want to know what happened.”
I tamp down the anger that starts to burn in my chest. “He'll tell us. Anyway, that's another reason I wanted to wait. To offset the negativity of whatever happened. He needs the bond. I think he did something to bring on an early heat. When it first started, it wasn't typical; and there was an odd note to his scent.”
“He may have taken one of those hormone doses,” Pierce offers. “I've seen similar things happen with a few Omegas in the clubs.”
Anger about Beckett's bruises turns into jealous rage at the idea of Pierce,myValla, in those clubs. Giving himself to the throng of greedy, desperate Omegas. I shove it back down. This isn't the time for jealousy to rear it's ugly head, especially when I'm trying to take care of my own greedy, desperate Omega and all Pierce can do is watch. Still … “No more clubs.”
He chuckles and brushes my forehead with a kiss. “No more clubs,” he promises. “I won't need them anymore.”
I nod, satisfied.
Beckett stirs, stretching deliciously and groaning. His mouth forms a pout before his eyes even open. “Where did you go?”
“I'm here,” I answer. “You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you.”
He opens his eyes and takes in the scene Pierce and I make. I watch jealousy, irritation, want, lust, and more jealousy cycle through his expression. “Are you going to sit on my lap, too?”
I laugh. “If you want me to, I suppose I will. I've never been much of a lap-sitter, though. He bullied me into it.” I move my hips just a little and tilt my head. “It's not bad. It'll just take some getting used to.”
“I like lap-sitting,” Beckett says, a frown tugging at his swollen mouth. “Sometimes.”
He's taller than me, and heavier, but I can make it work if he needs it. I might need a heating pad afterward, but I can do it. “We can figure out a lap-sitting schedule, Beckett. Do you need anything? I can call for food. Would you like a shower or bath?”
