Page 18 of Omega's Flight
Ann walked around the edge of the mess, picking out the girliest things in the pile. A princess tiara, big plastic jewelry that I wished I could have afforded for her back in Jackson-Jellystone, even some shiny little shoes with puffs of pink feather on the toes.
Jack stood back and grinned. "My wife and I don't have kids yet, but her sister has two and she says the dollar store is a godsend." His grin grew wider when Pip found the pirate hat, then the wooden pistol. "I thought she'd like those."
I sidled closer to Jack, not quite arm's length away. My nerves weren't steady enough to get any closer, but seeing the riches he so casually dumped on my pups made me anxious about being in even more debt to these humans. I had no money, pack credit or other. I couldn't pay him back for this unless Mercy Hills would agree to cover the cost until I could find some way to earn a little credit inside the enclave. "Thank you for this, but we really can't accept."
He waved a hand casually at me, then strolled in the direction of the coffee pot. "It wasn't much and a distraction's a good thing for them, for what we're going to be doing." He pulled the pot out and grimaced at the half-cup of coffee congealing at the bottom. "Maybe I'll just go get some at the shop down the block," he muttered.
"I can clean that," I offered, grateful for something to do, a way to be helpful. I skirted my pups, paused briefly to open the container of animals for Henry, and reached for the coffee pot.
Jack stared at me in surprise. "You're our guest. And our client."
A guest? Since when was an omega a guest? "Please."
Wearing a baffled expression, he let me take the pot from him, and I hurried down the hallway to wash it out in their tiny lunch room, with its shallow sink and two rickety chairs. Oddly, I felt more at home in this room with its worn furniture and cramped space than I did out front with the polished floors and comfortable furniture. As I scrubbed at the black sludge that had accumulated on the bottom of the glass, I felt my breathing slow down and a sense of calm come over me. Maybe it was the work, or maybe it was the chance to be alone for a moment, to let my thoughts whirl to a stop. I needed the rest.
My stomach cramped, then slowly let go. I waited tensely for it to start up again, but my internal clock ticked away more than a minute without a repeat. Probably just left-overs. I couldn't help hoping that this was nothing more than the body's natural reaction to the upset of the past couple of days. It didn't seem to be getting any worse.
With the pot clean, I filled it again with water and headed back for the office.
"Raleigh!"
Funny how I knew Bax's voice, even after all these years. Carelessly, I put the dripping pot down on the desk where, someday, I guessed a receptionist would sit, and let myself be folded into Bax's arms.
"I'm so glad you came," I said, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
"As if I wouldn't," Bax said, and patted my back. "How are you, other than wanting a divorce?" He started to lead me into the back of the office, toward the couch and my pups and the sound of Jack's voice mixed with others.
I nodded and sniffed, then wiped at the tears I hadn't realized I'd been crying. "Good, I think." I put a hand to my belly. "Maybe." Then lower, "You have a midwife, right?"
Bax's steps slowed, then stopped, and he turned to look at me, his eyes brimming with compassion. "We have a nurse practitioner, and another one in nursing school." He came close again and put a hand questioningly over the still-flat plane of my belly. "It's not going well?"
I shrugged. "Degan, he..." My voice caught and I had to swallow the knot of fear and anger in my throat. "We fought, before I left. Ran away. Whatever. He...hurt...me." I could bring myself to say he'd thrown me about the room, or even to think about the expression on his face, the cruelty and satisfaction when he'd seen the pain he'd caused me.
"Oh, Lysoonka, Raleigh." He kissed my forehead and pulled me to him again. "We'll take you right to her." He started to lead me into the back again. "We're just planning what we need for a hospital and some of the equipment is already there, or coming soon. We'll ask Adelaide to see you as soon as we're inside walls again."
Relief washed over me. "Thank you. For that. For everything."
Bax turned to me again, his expression sober. "We promised you. Well, Abel promised you, but I support him entirely. We don't forget, even if years have passed." He turned and led me to the others. "How soon can we leave?" he asked, standing on tiptoes to press a kiss to the cheek of a tall dark alpha. His mate, Abel.
The last time we'd met, he'd been Alpha of Mercy Hills and Bax newly mated and pregnant out of season. A True Omega, like that Jason who had caused all the fuss, able to bear children in the fall as well as the spring. And Abel had saved me, as much as he could while not being from Jackson-Jellystone. He'd made my mate leave me alone, convinced him that I was telling the truth about the shirt Bax had given me. Forced him to accept that I hadn't stolen it and, just before he left, he'd whispered me a promise of rescue if I needed it.
Our house had been tense after, but Degan had been so embarrassed at the end when Abel had insulted his ability to support an omega that he'd bought me more clothes, and took on extra shifts with the pack to earn the credits for them. I'd had a bad case of hero worship after that and I cringed a little at the memory of how I'd resented Bax for a while, but life had gone on and I'd grown up a little. Bax deserved his good fortune as much as anyone, and all I could hope for was that a little of it would rub off on me.
"We've got it all planned," Abel said, his voice soothing in its depth. His gaze moved to meet mine and I firmly suppressed the flash of jealousy. I'd have loved to be able to trust my alpha that way, to feel his absolute worth just in the way he looked at the world. "Will you be okay crammed in under the seat of the car? You and one of the pups, I think. Two if we can fit them. The other, Laine will pretend is the child of a friend, coming with him and April. We'd bring you in openly, but Quin's already gotten a call asking him to send you back—for sure the gate won't let you through."
He meant the humans that guarded the entrance to Mercy Hills, like they did at all the other enclaves. To keep us inside, so we didn't run wild. "I'm fine." I kept my voice firm, determined not to sound like a cowardly omega. This was my future, and the future of my pups. If it got us inside the walls of Mercy Hills, I'd do anything. "Is there anything you need me to do?"
Abel glanced over at Bax. "Anything you want in town?"
Bax shook his head. "Let's get them home."
Home. Funny how that word struck me, the single syllable stretching forward in time like the sound of a gong. "Please," I said, because they deserved that. "I'd like to go home, yes."
C H A P T E R 1 4
L aine had stopped at his home on the way back to the office, and not only had he brought with him his daughter—a young girl about the same age as my Ann—but he'd put some thought into a disguise as well. So now we had a spare suitcase for the pups' clothing and toys, and some of his daughter's clothes—so much nicer than the ones my pups had on—to complete their transformation from poor shifters to middle class friends of the family. I hadn't thought about it, but our battered bags and worn clothes were obviously packmade and they'd give us away at the gate for sure.
I threw him a grateful glance as he helped me fit everything in but he only grinned. "I like a good puzzle," he said, which made very little sense to me in the moment, though after we'd zipped the case closed, I realized that he enjoyed this mental jousting.
