Page 81 of Omega's Flight
Or maybe he could tell...
He shook himself back to the present, where Garrick was briefing him on the third of the folders. When had he talked about the second one? "What time is it?" he asked and checked his phone. "Shit, we've missed lunch."
"I'm not hungry." Garrick flipped a page in one of the folders, then went to his computer and typed something into the search box. "You can go, we can pick up when you get back."
Cas snorted and leaned across the narrow space separating their desks to poke Garrick in the ribs. "Fine, stay here. I'll just tell Holland you aren't eating. He'll fix that."
The look Garrick shot him, though, made him think twice about his joke and what it might mean to someone who knew what Holland could do.
"Hey," Cas said, more gently. "Realistically, how much are you going to get done in the next hour? Feed your brain some food, then feed it information." Who used to tell him that? One of the teachers back at Salma, he thought. They'd been right, too. "It's not like the restaurant is far."
Garrick stared at his computer screen, the battle royale going on inside his head reflected in his eyes. Eventually he sighed and closed his eyes. "All right." He closed the laptop and slid it into a drawer. "Can we try to make it less than an hour?"
"Sure." Cas figured that would change once they got there. Now that he'd really looked at Garrick, he noticed that his friend was noticeably skinnier, like he'd been skipping a lot more meals. "Maybe you should take an assistant with you when you go, too. Someone to make sure your clothes are clean and food is brought to you. Keep an eye on the time, type things up."
"Yes, I really want an omega of my own, while I'm fighting over someone else's," Garrick snapped with that whip-sharp sarcasm he only used when pushed right to the edge.
"Are you really going to have time to look after everything?" Cas demanded. "You can barely look after yourself now." He gestured at the too high cheekbones and hollows under Garrick's eyes. "You're pining for him, I know. I don't understand the relationship, but I get that part. If you won't look after yourself, though, how are you going to look after Julius and Minnie?” And if you starve yourself to death, what will be left when Laine comes back to you?
Assuming he did; he was human, after all. And they tended to stick together.
Garrick sent him a harassed look but Cas could tell by the expression in his eyes that he was wavering.
"My treat," Cas coaxed. "We won't stay long, it's well past her normal rush hour."
Garrick pressed his lips tight together and looked away. Cas thought he'd lost for a moment, until Garrick's shoulders slumped and the full extent of his exhaustion made itself known on his face and in the way he held his body. "All right."
"And you'll talk to Holland?"
"Who would he send?"
"I don't know, but someone should go."
Garrick started to get that mutinous look on his face again, then he let out a long breath and shook his head. "We'll see. Let's go eat, then I'll run you through the rest of the cases." He squeezed his way around his desk. "Can't wait to get into the new offices," he grumbled.
"Yeah, that'll be amazing," Cas agreed. "We should be looking for someone to do paralegal training."
"A paralegal would be perfect," Garrick replied in the tone he sometimes used to talk about cake. "We should push for that, it'll take a few years."
Cas grabbed his phone and slipped out from behind his desk. "Come on, we can talk more about it over lunch." Garrick nodded and they made their way to the door.
C H A P T E R 5 7
I n the middle of March, I had my first scheduled day off after a Full Moon, so I was in my room trying to decide what I would wear that night. It was getting warmer now, though still cooler than Jackson-Jellystone, and less of that abrupt change between day temperatures and nighttime ones that happened in Nevada Ashes.
Layers. That would be the smart thing. If it got cooler, I could leave the shirt on. If it stayed warm, I could take the shirt off and just dance in my t-shirt.
I picked out a mottled gray t-shirt with a swirling black design on the front of it that I'd discovered at the second-hand clothing store after my art lesson one weekend. Holland had found someone, I didn't know how, that cared more about my ability to draw than that I like to get furry and run around during full moon. So each weekend either he and I or Bax and I would grab someone from Security and hop in the pack's smallest car to head off to the city. There, I'd spend two hours learning how real artists worked and whoever had driven me could visit with Bram or go shopping or take care of the thousand and one little tasks that couldn't be taken care of from the enclave.
And then, sometimes, after my lesson was over, I got to shop. Now that I was working in the enclave, I had some spending money. Most of it went on the pups, but it was fun to go through the racks and bins in the used clothing stores to find them things that they'd like, new toys, clothing that wasn't the plain jeans and dark t-shirt combination that was almost the pack uniform.
Sometimes, I even bought things for myself. This t-shirt was one of those rare finds that I couldn't bear to leave behind. Paired with the newest of my jeans and a black sweater, I thought I looked pretty good. Ready for dancing.
The pups couldn't wait to get to the puppy enclosures and it wasn't long before they abandoned me. I laughed as I watched them run off and kept going toward the food tables with my offering of pie for dessert.
I ran into Bram as I was making room for my pies and made sure that this time he couldn't run off and hide in embarrassment. "Happy Full Moon, Bram!" I said and dumped my pies haphazardly on the table to make sure he couldn't escape. "How are your courses going? You're close to exams, aren't you?" I'd heard something about it from Holland and it seemed like a good start to a conversation.
"Yes, in three weeks," he said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Raleigh, I'm—"
