Page 170 of Fallen Omega

“No idea.”

But I do. I don’t hear her and since the raiding party, such as it is, hasn’t left, but hasn’t done much, it means they’re here for her and any dirt on us they can find. Good luck on the latter, but the former? If she’s in the safe room, then she’s okay.

But it’s a game of chess in the manager’s office, one that Dante’s playing very carefully.

Both sides want to see who gives up information first.

I’ve seen him do this thousands of times. For someone with a hot temper, he can be fucking carved ice, heartless.

My money’s on him.

Then a thought comes to me. We’ve been making the bite known.

Maybe they think it’s a fake or…shit. I hold that thought. The man in the suit makes a line for downstairs. Darcy moves to block his way as do I.

“I think,” I say, as pleasantly as I can, “that you need a warrant to go any further.”

“It might help if you cooperate,” the man I dub Goon says.

I smile broadly. “It might help if you have just cause. Move.”

“Oh, fucking show him, Knight,” Dante says.

I sigh, leading the way. The only thing back there, apart from the storeroom, is the security room with the monitors showing the store room, the bars, the floors, the front of house, and outside. I see Julien give up his post of keeping the invaders upstairs away from anything, and he goes back to what he was doing, which was setting up for tonight. The bartender, Mason, doesn’t turn from his inventory and Dante herds the others to the foyer.

“Your friends are going,” Goon says.

He reaches out to touch one of the monitors but I slap his hand away. “Don’t, you’ll turn it off and this system’s touchy. She’s frigid, doesn’t like men playing with her. Goes cold and plays dead when they do.”

Goon frowns.

“You’ll fuck it up and it’ll take me half the day figuring out how to turn it on. We need it working in case there’s trouble.” I pause. “You know. Bar trouble? A patron acting out? You have been out for a drink, right?”

He grunts.

I take that as a yes.

“So let’s not cause any issues by knocking out the feeds,” I say.

I march him out and the tall woman, an alpha, gives the place a visual once over.

She’s older, beautiful, with ice blonde hair and the kind of regal expression that can castrate a man at twenty paces.

The woman turns to Dante.

“Dante?” Her nose wrinkles as she says his name. She clearly doesn’t hold with the old school adoption of a one name moniker for pack members.

There’s a familiar air about her, but I can’t place it. She’s on some kind of blockers, something sophisticated because there’s not even a whiff of scent about her, and usually she’d give off something, even if it was subtle.

“You’re busy. I won’t keep you.” He meets her gaze. “We’re busy, too.”

Did he just use his voice? On another alpha?

“We’ll be in touch, Dante,” she says. “Soon.”

He nods to Julien who opens the door. “Only if it’s on neutral ground, in court, or at your grave. If it’s here, you’ll need an invitation or a warrant, and this doesn’t seem your kind of place, Councilwoman.”

“President.”

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