Page 19 of A Shot in the Dark
He groans. “Something’s definitely up with you, princess, and, since my kind and yours don’t mix… I need to touch base.” He reaches over into his glove compartment. “Here.” He hands me a set of state-of-the-art headphones. “I need to make a call, and I need privacy. Care to cooperate?”
I readily accept because whatever’s flooding my blood makes me happy to comply with at least the majority of his request; I slip the headphones on, and watch as we pass a sign announcing our arrival in Ohio.
Boots takes out his phone and begins speaking into it, and I carefully—subtly—lift up an edge of my headphones to listen. “Petey? Thank god.”
“Yo, Boots, my man! My favorite brooding man of mystery—the man of few words. What’s up?”
“I have a hypothetical.”
“Go ahead.”
“Hypothetically, if an omega fell into someone’s lap?—”
The laughter on the phone’s far end is unmistakably crass. “If one’s in your lap, you know what to do with it!”
“I donot,” Boots counters, the words coming out in a dangerous growl that only serves to excite me. I squirm on my seat, my focus fixed. “My rank precludes access. Operating on a need-to-know basis, my intel is spotty at best. So now I need to know.”
“Seriously… Why the fuck doyouneed intel on omegas?”
“Let’s say I ran into a bitch that may be in heat—but maybe there’s something…differentabout her… As a result of… morbid curiosity… I need every bit of data you have on omegas.”
“Dude, tell me you’re joking. You better be joking… Omegas are dangerous little bitches. Leadership is clear on this and so are the rules. A ranking alpha must be in control of any and all identified omega. Every wild thing that scents an omega will want a taste. And legally? Any male but those ranked among the Order of the Kinsmen—like you, my dude—are entitled to having a taste. Except in cases in which bans or bonds apply.”
“Right, right… The bond. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“At your rank you have a total of seven days’ bond. And you’ve got access to… all seven days’ coverage.”
“Yeah,” Boots says grimly. “I know.”
“Even with all seven days intact, you have to apply in advance?—”
“I know.”
“And as a member of the Kinsmen ranks, you… shouldn’t even be considering accessing an omega. They’re a no-go for your rank. Strictly off limits. And this sorta forbidden fruit? It’ll fuck you up. If she’s just some bitch in heat, do what you will, but if she’s an omega—she’s something you can’t and shouldn’ttryto handle.” The other man begins to rattle even more words out—all of them coming too quickly for me to truly grasp. “Omegas need to be delivered to the ranking alpha so they can either be brought to heel or put down. And one of the keys to omega transport is containment. Bitches may move freely, but omegas? They need to be kept under lock and key. If you can’t bring her in for some reason…” he pauses as if he’s deep in thought “...an omega in heat can make it impossible, you can initiate a bond to provide cover and reduce the call to the wild. BUT. In case of emergency application of the bond your rights can be revoked and leadership’ll take it out of your hide.”
“I also know that.”
“And if you’re unwilling to risk leadership raining down on you, you must initiate the Huntsman Protocol.”
“Fuuuck.”
“Or you can unleash her, get a few pokes in with everyone else and stay clear of the resulting melee. An unidentified and unbonded omega isjustan omega—a liability to the hierarchy. The bitch has gotta go, you know? Might as well have a little fun before you do her in.”
Boots wipes the back of one gloved hand across the space between the brim of his hat and the top of his glasses. “Not how I’m wired, man.” The words are simple and somehow sad.
“And that’s why you’re still stuck at your rank. All that ‘knight-of-the-realm’ shit you carry like it’syourburden.”
“It should weigh on someone…”
“Do you think leadership worries about the things you do?” Petey’s laugh is harsh, dark. “They would never ask what to do with an omega—anyomega atanymoment—they’d just do what they want. Alphas do what alphas wanna do.”
“Fuck leadership.”
“Yeah, dude, fuck leadership!” Petey’s tone grows softer. “But a few pokes, man? You deserve at least that much. Who doesn’t?”
Boots shakes his head.
“Look,” Petey continues, “the odds of any omega you run across being a bloodline omega? Slim to none. And they’re the most dangerous. Don’t forget: If some unbonded omega’s in heat, you must either take the risk and provide cover or clear the board by initiating the Huntsman Protocol. No muddying things. I mean, bond and go all dick in? Fine if you’re willing to risk it, but then it’s either haul her in and turn her over, or it’s gun out, and be done with it. Otherwise the alphas will hang your hide in the Hall.”
