Page 36 of The Omega's Alpha
“What’s going on here?” the army commander demanded.
“Sir, your men are interfering with my mission,” Harris told him bluntly. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with my command, and you should be getting new orders any minute now.” He turned to Quin. “We’re going to set the Aid Station up out here, but I think we’ll take the kitchen inside the walls. If you could find us space for it.”
“We can take ours down,” Mac said. “I imagine yours is better equipped.”
Harris nodded. “Only the best.”
Just at that moment, a soldier ran up to whisper in the army commander’s ear. His lips compressed and he turned a stern look on everyone. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Mac raised his eyebrows and Quin shot him a look reminding him not to let any of the snarky behavior he’d picked up from Jason show.
The commander came back a few minutes later. “All right. We’re to set up a perimeter two hundred feet out from the gate to allow the Marines space for their hospital and such.” He glared at Quin. “Your people have permission to come out as far as the hospital, no more.”
“That’s all we need, lieutenant,” Quin told him, keeping his tone mild, knowing it would infuriate the man even more and too tired to care. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the photographer snapping pictures and the journalist scribbling in a small notebook and he repressed a smile.
The lieutenant finally noticed the other humans. “Hey, you don’t have permission to take pictures here. Move off!”
“Actually, sir,” Harris said. “They do. I got that covered as well. But you’re welcome to tell your men to stay away from them.” He turned back to Quin and began walking him toward the trucks. “Besides,” he said when they were out of earshot of the army. “Who wants to talk to the army when they’ve got Marines to interview?” He and Quin shared a grin, and then they were in the thick of organizing the supplies.
Chapter Thirty-One
It wasnear dark when I woke up. Agatha was sitting cross-legged beside me and the right side of my head was covered in about a dozen tiny, lopsided braids. Dorian was sucking on the thumb of one hand while the fingers of the other twisted back and forth in the hem of my t-shirt.
“You’re up,” Agatha trilled. “You were tired.”
“I was.” I sat up, untangling Dorian from the shirt. “Did nobody come looking for me?”
“The big man did.” She pressed herself up against my arm. “I’m hungry.”
“Then let’s go get something to eat.” The big man had probably been Quin. Why hadn’t he woken me? “Did the big man say anything?”
She shook her head. “He smiled and made the shush with his finger and he made Dorian’s hair messy, but I fixed it. Do you like your hair?”
“I do.” I stood up and folded the blankets. “Come along, pups.” The words sounded familiar, puzzling, then I had a brief memory of being home, helping with the pups in Buffalo Gap. All us omegas got roped into something like that—either looking after the young ones, or sewing for the pack, or cooking and preserving for lean times. Pups had been my job. I hid a grimace and reached for the puppies’ hands. “Let’s go look for food.”
We walked out of the wood and around the edge of the Mercy Hills spot, headed for the noise and smells of supper. It looked like we’d missed the pups’ meal time, so I shuffled us into line and entertained Agatha and Dorian by singing songs about food.
Something prickled at the edge of my awareness—Quin. It was really strange. Ever since I’d seduced him with my admittedly pitiful heat, I’d been insanely aware of him, to the point where sometimes I could even guess where he was when he was completely out of sight. It had never been like this with my ex, Gregoire, and while I put it down to just being more interested in Quin, it was a little eerie. But I knew he was somewhere in the crowd, though maybe not in line. He didn’t feel close enough. I picked Dorian up and put him on my shoulders. “Do you see the big guy anywhere?” I asked him, spinning in place to give him a view of as much of the camp as could be seen from where we were.
“Uh huh. He’s talking to Alpha Gonzalo, over by the burned tree.”
I glanced over in the direction Dorian pointed in. This end of the enclave had mostly escaped damage, except for a few patches oddly near the wall. One of the burnt areas contained a tree that I thought might have been a cherry before the fire stripped it of leaves and bark, now a black, flaking skeleton against the gray concrete of the wall. Quin stood with his back to it, his hands on his hips while he talked to the other Alpha. Garrick stood next to him, taking notes on a small pad of paper. I watched for a moment, until Quin looked up from whatever Garrick was writing and smiled at me. I smiled back, but inside, I was worried. He was driving himself hard, working longer hours than I was, and I suspected he wasn’t sleeping. Last night he certainly hadn’t—I’d insisted that we place our blankets near each other in the tent, and I’d been woken by his restlessness once, and then again when he got up to walk off his demons.
And demons he had. I didn’t think the others noticed it, but I did. There was a certain quietness that Abel said hadn’t always been there, that had begun to fade after he’d come back to Mercy Hills. Oh, Quin was at heart a serious man, much like his younger brother. But there was a sense of humor in there that bubbled up when you least expected it.
Since we’d come to Green Moon, though, the humor felt forced, and when he’d come back from another shift tearing down half-burned homes there was a look in his eyes that told me it wasn’t just Green Moon he saw. And that sense of not-quite-here had started to grow again.
The line moved slowly, though not as slow as yesterday. I wondered if someone had found more stoves, or more generators, while I was taking my ill-gotten nap. It still wasn’t fast, though, so the pups and I sang more songs about food, then songs about hunting, and the people around us slowly began to join in and when I looked up at Quin again, the shadows were gone from his face.
The sky grew darker and people began lighting lanterns. Small pinpricks of light began to sparkle where others had started campfires in front of the huge tents they were now living in. It probably seemed morbid to the humans, but we were pack and we were poor and nothing was wasted. So heat and light and a place to gather was provided by the soot-covered boards that had once been people’s homes.
Finally, we reached the place where they were doling out the food and the lines split up to shuffle along the tables, hands out waiting to be filled with whatever could be scraped together that day. The tent was new—I craned my neck, looking for Quin to ask what had happened while I slept, but I’d lost him again. Didn’t matter—there was food. And the portions being ladled out were big. Bigger than yesterday, anyway. Tonight it was stew, a nice change from the variations on vegetable soup of the past couple of days. And meat—there was a lot more meat. Like, real chunks, not just enough to flavor the meal. I put Dorian down on the ground and helped him and his sister each get a small bowl and a roll—another treat. I looked across at the woman ladling out my bowl of stew and she twinkled at me.
“Truck came in today. Your red-headed alpha and the humans went and came back with the bed of your alpha’s truck full of food. And Mercy Hills must have some friends in high places—there’s a whole pack of human soldiers out there, with more food and supplies and even a hospital. They spent the afternoon moving all the sick ones out to it.”
“Really?” I stopped and stared at her, then looked up at the tent with new eyes.What had Quin done?
“Yes.” She nodded at the pups, waiting patiently for me to gather their rolls and jam them in the pockets of my sweatshirt. “I heard you were looking after those two. You won’t find any family willing to take them.”
