Page 8 of Abel's Omega
“Baxter? Are you okay?”
I looked up from tucking Beatrice’s rabbit in beside her and found the librarian watching me with concern. “The Alpha asked me to make food, finger food things, for a meeting he has with a potential new pack member. I just couldn’t find anything I thought I could do.”
Her expression said that she was thinking the same thing I’d thought earlier—the Alpha was crazy to ask me to produce anything fancy in the kitchen. She patted my arm. “I have just the book for you. Follow me.”
I grabbed the stroller and wheeled it behind her to the other side of the room. She walked down a shelf, fingers ticking off each book in turn, until she came across one with a wide white spine, with green letters sprawling along it. Then she pulled out another, smaller, not much more than a leaflet. “Here, you take these. They’re all easy, and you can bring them back after you’re done.”
I stared at the books, promised salvation, but… “I can’t. You know I can’t sign for them.” I needed a not-omega if I wanted to take anything out of their tiny library.
“I’ll sign them out for you. I trust you to bring them back.” She pushed them into my arms. “It’s not like I don’t know where you live.”
I laughed, part relief, part not-so-funny humor. “Yeah.” Then, softer, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Fan came running up to me and crashed into my leg. “Dabi, can we have more stories? Can we? Can we?” He jumped up and down in his impatience. Teca toddled out in the middle of the small crowd of pups, her head turning this way and that as she looked for her family. Finally, she spotted us, and she hopped over as if her legs had been tied together. Fan was still jumping up and down like he had to pee, wanting another story, and the baby started to fuss at the noise. I threw a grateful smile at the librarian and began maneuvering the stroller in the direction of the exit. “No, Fan, not right now. You’re going to play in the back yard. Do you want to invite someone over? I think there’s still some cookies in the box.” I knew there were, because I’d put them up on the highest shelf on the wall in our porch. No way Fan was climbing up there.
“Can we have candies too?”
“I don’t have any. Maybe next disbursement day.” I’d have to find some more work somewhere, but there just wasn’t that much extra money going around that people could afford to hire me for anything, especially when they could probably do it better themselves. And I sure as hell wasn’t taking up any of the other…offers…that had come my way. Though if I couldn’t find any other way to earn credit, I might be forced to start earning it on my back. The thought made me sick, but I had four pups to think about, and human welfare wouldn’t be enough to keep us fed and sheltered. My situation didn’t leave much room for scruples. That knowledge, though, made the idea of mating again soon a little more palatable.
Fan stopped walking, his face set in stubbornly determined lines, and crossed his arms over his chest. “No!” he yelled. “I want candies.”
“I don’t have any.”Thank you, child of mine, for telling the whole world how poor I am.“Come on, now. It’s nearly lunch.”
“No!” Fan yelled, even louder this time.
I glanced around at all the curious stares. Probably I was only imagining the judgment in them, but still, I cringed. I crouched down beside Fan. “We can’t get anything here. It’s a library. Come on home.”
“No!”
The baby started to cry, and suddenly I’d had enough. I looked Fan straight in the eye. “If you don’t come right now, the next time we go anywhere, I’ll carry Beatrice, and you’ll have to ride in the stroller.”
Fan’s eyes went wide, and I could see the wheels turning in that smart little brain. His eyes went to the stroller, and Beatrice happily waving her rabbit about, then back to me, perhaps to see if I was actually serious. “Fine,” he spat, the word laughably incongruous in his little boy’s voice, and stomped toward the door.
Grimly, I grabbed Teca’s hand and followed my son outside.
CHAPTER NINE
Mac got home just as it was getting dark. He’d have to leave again before midnight for his shift in the security building farthest from their home, but it was okay. He’d have supper with Jason and Macy, grab some sleep, perhaps curled up with his two favorite shifters, and then head out to his second shift of the day.
This mating-price worried him. Jason’s attitude toward it worried him even more. As much as his mate tried to prove he wasn’t bothered, and that he had every faith in Mac and Abel finding a solution, Mac had been living with him for almost seven months now. He’d started picking up the signals.
“I’m home,” he called quietly as he came in the door. He didn’t want to wake Macy if she was asleep, which the newborn did a lot.
“Hey.” Jason came around the corner of the kitchen, stirring something in a bowl. He sidled up to Mac, the bowl held off to one side, and lifted his face for a kiss.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
“I’m fine, it’s been a week.” Jason kept his voice low, and Mac looked around for the baby. He found her on the floor behind the table, tucked into a woven basket, and wrapped up in one of the blankets Jason had made before she was born.
“I know, but it wasn’t exactly a perfect birth. And you promised me until Friday.”
“It’s Thursday evening. I’m okay. How did the harvest go?”
“There’s still some left for tomorrow, but it’s about done. Bumper crop this year. We’ll all eat like kings.”
Jason laughed and turned back into the kitchen. “I’m making muffins, and there’s stew on the stove.” He began ladling the soupy mixture from the bowl into a muffin pan. “You go wash up and I’ll have supper on the table when you come back down.”
