Page 8 of The Omega Trials: Part One

And the fact that we’ve been waiting in this parking garage for twenty minutes, listening to the fights below rage on, is just another way for them to toy with us in their little game.

Bishop rests his head back on the cement wall, while Ecker fusses with the cut on his brow. Ecker fought last month, and tonight was Bishop’s turn. Bishop’s a strong fighter, but I was still relieved when his opponent chose brass knuckles for their weapon. You can survive a lot more blows from brass knuckles than you can a machete.

We grew up as brothers in every sense of the word except sharing parents, none of us ever having to fight alone. So, standing back and not jumping in is always nearly impossible for me. The feeling reminds me of the time I got scabies when we were living in a street camp for a stint. The itching was worse at night, like I could claw my skin off layer by layer and still not find any relief.

Doing nothing while Bishop took hit after hit felt like having that full-body, blood-burning itch and not being able to scratch it.

Luckily, while I fight with brawn, Bishop fights with his brain. He lets his opponent tire themselves out with powerful blows. Not an uncommon tactic, an experienced fighter can pick up on it and pull back before falling into the trap. But Bishop disguisedhis intent by convincingly appearing like the weaker one. My teeth nearly cracked with how hard I was clenching them when the crowd started laughing at him. They all thought he was a dead man, way out of his league.

But when his opponent started slowing down, Bishop used his conserved energy to take the big fucker to the ground. He stepped on their wrist with the knuckles with one foot and stepped on his esophagus with the other. The bones of their wrists and neck crunched in harmony.

Replaying the night’s events makes me more ticked off that we’re still here, waiting.

I scoff. “You know what? Fuck this, let’s go.” I shake my head and start toward our car.

Bishop pushes off the wall. “Not yet—”

A familiar black sedan rounds the corner, the sound of the rumbling engine bouncing off the low concrete above and below.

“Fucking dicks,” I curse under my breath and look around the garage for cameras. I’d bet money someone in one of those stupid fucking masks has been watching us squirm this whole time, ready to show up right when we’re fed up enough to leave.

Ecker and Bishop are standing on either side of me by the time the car comes to a stop in front of us. My hackles rise when the driver’s door opens. I stand a little straighter when the chauffeur walks around the hood and opens the back door without a word.

Unease prickles my senses when not one, but two masked men stare back at us from the curved back seat. The driver nods his head at the open door, silently ordering us in. I can feel my brothers waiting for me to make the first move to follow.

The message is clear, but I’m not a dog to be ordered around. The Elders can tell me to jump, but I will never ask how high.

“Don’t wait for Beckham to invite you to get in.” I don’t recognize the man’s voice or his mask shaped like a stork’s beak. “He doesn’t have a tongue.”

The man we’ve met before chuckles. “One of the consequences of not respecting his Elders.” I hold back the snarl building in my throat.

I lift my chin and take a cautious step toward the car. “Where are we going?”

A conniving smile spreads on the man’s face. “To pay tribute of course.”

The seats in the town car are shaped like a limo’s but without the space. Being back here with four other men is suffocating. Especially when I have to fight the powerful urge to rip two of their throats out.

I know there’s no possible way to achieve our goals without infiltrating the Echelon. Iknowthat, yet it irks everything in me to strive for these men’s approval, to know that my power lies in the hands of their acceptance.

Doctrine states that exiled families must be given fair opportunity to attend the Trials after three complete generations in exile. We’re the fourth. So while they have to permit it, it doesn’t mean they have to welcome us or make it easy.

Their derision has been evident every step of the way, like requiring us to fight to the death to even reach the Trials. But never more so than when we pull up to our destination.

Even behind the tinted windows, I can make out the glowing red bulb in the fixture above the building’s door. It’s a three-story commercial building in a rough part of Cape Aurelia, sitting on the corner of a rundown block,and a gravel alley disappears down one side.

Ecker is sitting closest to the curb and dips his head to get a better look. I presume he reads the business name and scoffs, “Baby Doll Omegas.”

“This is a fucking joke, right?” My nails tear into the leather seat cushion. “An omega house? You’re getting us a fuckingwhore?”The insult is more blatant than a slap to the face. Ecker gives me an indiscernible look before returning his gaze to the Elders.

The Cobalt Elder in the stork mask shrugs. “Unless they changed the prize from ten grand to two million dollars without my knowledge, then this is the only pedigree of omega your tribute can afford.”

Ecker’s face morphs into pure rage. I half expect him to reach over and throttle the dude. Even Bishop, who can always hide his emotions, flares his nostrils and the crease between his eyes deepens as he says, stilted, like he’s struggling to keep his voice even, “We need a true-blooded omega. We won’t find one . . .” He swallows bitterly before gritting out, “Here.”

The driver opens the back door, and we file out, fuming. The Elders make their exit leisurely as Ecker begins to pace the dirty sidewalk, fingers running manically through his hair.

Once we’re all standing, the Elder answers Bishop, “You’re right, it is tradition for a pack’s omega to be of noble blood, but there’s nothing in the doctrine that requires it.” His nasally, smug tone grates.

Other than the obvious offensiveness of this decision, I can see it for what it truly is: another form of sabotage. There’s no way we can make it through the Trials without a noble omega to strengthen our pack.

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