Page 3 of Fallen Omega

Otherwise…

Cops work for the Council.

They’ll come for me.

I’m an omega, one who’s undocumented, a prize. A brood mare.

I shudder and turn left, down a dark alley, past a bar that doesn’t have a sign. When I reach the place I’m looking for, I knock six times.

A slat opens.

Whoever it is on the other side doesn’t speak.

“I’m Connor Roth’s daughter. I need O-blocker. I have money.”

The slat shuts.

The door creaks open.

“Come in.”

I step inside.

“Crap,” I mutter, almost two hours later.

The rain’s slowed to a slight drizzle and the storm has passed, but with it comes complications.

For one, it took way longer than it should have to get my drugs through Deckard Price, a friend of Dad’s, someone he knew before I was born. He made sure the price was fair.

But even though Deckard’s an austere man, one who Dad always told me I can trust, I wonder if the trust only held when Dad was alive.

Dad said I could trust him, if I need to, and right now, I need to.

Loyalty is scarce in the Hollows. Money speaks here andthe Council’s reach doesn’t extend too deeply into the seedy belly of this place.

I didn’t offer Deckard anything like information—not that I know anything—I just grabbed the O-blockers and left.

But now it’s after midnight and with the drizzle, it means any pheromones I’m releasing won’t be dampened by the rain. I take one of the pills, dry-swallowing it, and wait in the dark for people to pass. Then I start off, taking a circuitous route home.

In my head, I take stock of my situation. It keeps me calm, stops me running, and lets me take note of anyone who might follow. The situation isn’t looking good, though. There are no silver linings outside of the O-blockers.

Here, the cars are old and banged up, some stripped clean, and garbage lines the street as grass pokes through the pavement cracks.

Starlight City is a place of contradictions. It’s a whimsical name for a dark urban sprawl, the perfect spot to disappear into if heads are kept low. Ever since I was little, when I went with Dad on a delivery run—he never explained what he did and by the time I was old enough to start asking, I was old enough to know not to ask—to the suburbs, I wanted to live there.

The big houses, pristine streets, and voluminous trees. The lawns and gardens and glittering shopping strips and malls. There are places in the city that glitter, too, but those buzz with business men and women.

And the Council.

I have enough money with my sporadic second job of scrubbing floors of businesses that I can pay rent for the next month. And if I sell some things, I’ll maybe be able to stretch to next month after that.

But I need to get through this coming heat first.

It could be tomorrow, or in a few days. It’s hard to tell when it’ll hit since the first time just came ontome, while the second time eked out in little trails of misery until I was in excruciating pain.

The pills take the edge off, dampen me. Some omegas apparently can function like they’re a beta or a delta on the blockers. Feel like they’re not in heat at all.

Not me.

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