“Hmm. Well, that’s another fucked up thing we’re definitely gonna fix,” he says as he picks up the letter opener and fits it under my wristband. One slash and the plastic bracelet I’ve worn every day in the center falls to the ground. He does the same to Dex’s wristband, then props his cigar on the edge of a filing cabinet, wafting the smoke towards an alarm in the ceiling. Finally, he fills his pockets with the loot on the desk and gives me a wink. “And just so you know, Omega, your slick smells goddamn perfect.”
I’m tempted to perch on the edge of the desk and part my thighs for him right then and there, but I don’t get a chance to offer, because he’s off again, this time leading us to a pair of polished doors. “Where does it go?” Dex asks.
“All the way to the parking garage.”
Half-formed images flit through my mind before settling on a rustycarwith a crackedwindshield. Someone is sitting in the driver’s seat, while I curl up in the back. My heart is thumping and the man in the front is swearing, long fingers strangling thesteering wheel. I can smell my slick in the air, but it’s faint and bruised, like crushed flowers. The man –jittery, angry, his eyes slicing me through the mirror like twin knives– reeks of despair, but he keeps shaking his head and muttering two words:Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it…
“You mean the basement?” Dex’s terse voice cuts through the strange daydream. “You go back down there, and they’ll throw us all in cages.”
“I mean what I said.” My alpha swipes his card over a panel and the two shiny doors part with a soft chime. This one –elevator- I know from watching the guards move around the facility, but I don’t ever remember being in one myself. I look around curiously as I step inside, my fingers clinging to Dex’s arm as my alpha punches a button and the doors slide closed. It’sa metal box, but it’smoving, and I wish I could see through the walls to find out how it works.
Both Dex and my alpha are watching our reflections in the mirrored doors. I can feel the tension building in the air, and I’m certain that whatever waits for us in the parking garage is going to be a surprise. More guards, probably, which I’m starting to realize aren’t just trying to stop my alpha from breaking their necks. They’re afterme, and maybe even Dex, for aiding my alpha’s escape.
Well, too bad.I don’t care how many deposits they still want to squeeze out of me. I’ve found my alpha, and not even the Director himself could stop me from leaving with him.
A moment before the doors slide open, my alpha steps in front of me, the guard’s gun pointed through the gap. I know he’s just trying to protect me, but it’s frustrating. I like the view of his backa lot– especially when it’s covered in tight, black leather – but nothing scary ever became less so by closing your eyes.
As we step out into the parking garage, the silence is eerie. The guards have to be watching us on the cameras that dot every corner, so they must know we’re down here. I’m certain my alpha fills their screens, his huge muscles and steely gaze just as dangerous as the gun in his hand.So, why aren’t they swarming over us like angry ants?
“Fuck. That gate is reinforced steel,” Dex says, pointing to a metal grill across the parking garage exit. “There’s no way we can get past that.”
“You can if you’re a paranoid psychopath,” my alpha sneers, grabbing my arm and steering us past rows of flashy cars. He doesn’t stop until we’re standing next to a massive black vehicle that conjures up one word from my addled brain:tank.
“Are you crazy? That’s Donny Carrillo’s vehicle. He put a guy through a woodchipper for spilling coffee on the hood of his Hummer.”
“He what?” I blink up at Dex, and his mouth tightens into a thin line. “Who’s Donny Carrillo?”
“A dead man,” my alpha grunts, pulling the keys from his pocket and making them chirp. Lights flash all over the massive vehicle and then he tosses them at Dex. “You drive, I’ll shoot.”
Dex scowls but does as he’s told, and I’m climbing into the back seat when rough fingers pinch the top of my arm. My alpha pushes me hard, and I fall across the seat, my arm stinging as it collapses under my weight. I try to twist around to look at him, but he thrusts me down and roars for Dex to drive.
“Jesus!” When I lift my head from where it’s jammed into the seat, Dex’s face is a white mask. But he’s not looking at me – he’s gaping at my alpha. “You’re shot!”
“Just drive!” My alpha snarls, lowering his window to shoot at the guards pouring out of every door. Why did I think they would look like ants? They’re all dressed in black armor and it’s like the devil’s army is pounding towards us. “There’s another gate on the perimeter. You’ll need to ram that one, too.”
“You call this an exit plan?”
Dex might not be fully on board with our escape, but he doesn’t flinch as he drives the car straight through the grill. There’s a horrible screaming sound of metal chewing metal, and then the car is bumping and lurching forward. My alpha has braced his arms around me, and he presses down so hard I can feel his heart hammering in his chest. It’s what I wanted – to cup his heartbeat – but not like this. Not when there is blood oozing around the edges of his leather coat and soaking into my jumpsuit.
“You’re shot,” I whisper faintly, at the same moment the car bucks again, and rocks pound against its sides. Not rocks, I realize, butbullets. The car heaves and growls like a wounded bear, but we slam through another partition and the tires squealin victory. I tilt my head to see trees flash past, soaring and green, and realize we’re in a forest.
How did I not know that?
When my alpha grunts in pain, I feel it in my own ribcage. “Dex, he’s bleeding! You have to stop the car and help him!”
“Not until we’re pulling into the Governor’s mansion,” my alpha growls, grabbing a blanket off the floor and pressing it to his wounded side. But when he studies the blood on the seat, his face darkens, and he gently touches my upper arm. “Omega?” As much as I want his touch, I flinch away from the press of his fingers, and something hot and fierce burns in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hit?”
“What the fuck?” Dex is twisting in his seat, the big car veering off course and chewing through the gravel shoulder. His wild gaze meets mine as he corrects his path. “Diana! Let me see the wound.”
I stare numbly down at the red splotch on the arm of my jumpsuit. It stings, but not as badly as seeing the matching bloodstain on my alpha. “I’m okay,” I murmur, even as my head starts to spin. “Just take care of my alpha, Dex.”
“Fuck!” The acrid edge to Dex’s scent makes me whimper, and he punches the steering wheel. “I’m taking you both straight to St. Luke’s!”
I hate the fear in his voice. I want to crawl into the front with him, but as I grip the headrest to slide forward, a bolt of white-hot agony dances down my arm. I cry out and my vision wavers, but my alpha’s face is suddenly close to mine, his dark eyes burning with resolve. “I will fix this, mate. You will take my seed, and I will take your pain.”
I lean my spinning head against the warm bulk of his shoulder. “Seed?”
Is that like my slick? I’ve been told it has magical powers, but only by the guards, and when I asked the counselors about it, they looked at me like I’d said something wrong.
