Page 39 of Altius
“They need to be pulled,” I declared. “Right now.”
“The coaches refused.”
Silence descended, blanking out everything but horrified disbelief and my racing pulse as I stared up at Cal.
“What?”
He glanced around, looking for a less cramped spot, guiding me through the crowd by the elbow. We ducked inside a side tunnel.
Grabbing the tablet, I leaned against the cold concrete and pulled a glove off with my teeth, scrolling to the start of the game, watching as the pheromone bomber worked their way through most of the starting defensive line.
“Notice anything unusual other than the frequency?” Cal asked, gently prying the glove from my clenched jaw.
“No. At least not at first glance.” I checked the timestamps. The first spike occurred before the players took to the field.“The security cameras in the player areas might have caught something. Could one of your contacts get the footage?”
“Doubt it. We could ask Redwing’s legal department to give it a try, though.”
Threats from Redwing usually guaranteed results, but I wasn’t sure this time.
“Does Owen know?”
“He’s, uh...” Cal rubbed his neck. “Been provoked.”
“Enough to get Tabitha involved?” I asked, clicking through pheromone emission records, looking for any sign of the culprit.
A moment of silence passed, prompting me to look up. Cal was observing me with a soft smile.
“What’s that look for?”
“Nothing. Except it’s true what they say about great minds. He excused himself to call her just before I came to find you.”
“Good.”
I tabbed through a few more players. No one had released enough pheromones to match the culprit’s intensity or duration.
Frustrated, I locked the tablet screen and returned it to Cal. He swapped it for my glove.
“Do you think Redwing applying pressure will help?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But when Tabitha wants answers, she usually gets them.” Cal angled his back toward the tunnel entrance, obscuring the gloved hand caressing my cheek. “All we can do right now is watch and wait. Maybe they’ll calm down during halftime.”
And maybe they wouldn’t.
“Are Alijah and Wyatt safe?” I asked.
They’d hovered around me for most of the game, only separating when I needed to assess a potential injury. I was surprised they hadn’t followed us into the tunnel.
“They should be,” Cal said, “but I’d feel better if they stuck close to one of us. Reyhan and Dr. McEwen, too.”
“Same.”
I gave in to temptation, resting my forehead against the solid expanse of his chest—a momentary reprieve interrupted by Garroway Forest scoring a touchdown, filling the stadium with jeers and boos.
Knowing we only had a few seconds left together, I opted to be bold. “Are you free later?”
“How much later?” he asked with a suggestive grin.
“I was thinking somewhere in the vicinity of all night.”
