Chapter Eight

Damon shouldn’t have let the others watch over Kara. He’d done it because he had work to do anyway, and because he had no idea if there was a point to him wanting Kara.

She hadn’t shown any direct interest in him. She’d flirted, but it seemed she flirted with anything that moved.

Damon was young, inexperienced, eager yet unsure. He was nothing like the steady alphas whose scents she carried.

He didn’t blame them, but that didn’t stop the resentment as he sat on the balcony of the suite. Resentful for being the youngest, for not having their experience, for lacking that domineering edge they had.

He shouldn’t want her, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Memories of the betas he’d slept with came over him, the fun of conquest and exploration. They’d looked at him like he should be some he wasn’t, as though they expected something from him that he didn’t have.

He’d never been ‘that alpha.’ Sure, he could be possessive and difficult and hard-headed, but he’d always felt like a part of him was missing. That feeling had only been driven home when he hadn’t lived up to what the betas had expected from him, when they’d thought he’d be the stereotypical domineering alpha, tearing at clothing and biting and holding them down. They hadn’t hidden their disappointment when he hadn’t done that.

It was one reason he’d never considered looking for an omega. What one would ever want him? Despite the drive to do so, the few times he’d been around one, he’d ignored any instinctual desires that might have crept into him.

So why is this one different? Even if I managed to catch her attention, what would I do with her?

He shook his head, trying to ignore the question. Why dwell on things that weren’t going to happen?

He should focus on the case, on the work. He’d already started to create a nice little rut for himself. He worked hard, learning from Cullen and Reese, pulling his weight. He rented a room from them, making it easy to work together and allowing him to save.

Eventually, he’d open his own business, working on contract for police and private investigators, doing what he did for Cullen and Reese for a wider range of clients.

He liked a plan, and he excelled at making them. Order kept him calm, made him feel in control, and all he had to do was keep his head down and follow the order for his life plans to keep going exactly the way he’d set them up.

Eventually, years down the line, he’d find a nice beta to settle down with. A pretty house in the suburbs, two or three kids—it was all the same thing he’d envisioned as a kid, a life he could control and direct.

He brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, moving his glasses out of the way. As much as he enjoyed a good plan, they also weighed on him.

Expectations. His, his family’s, even the other alphas’. People expected things, but they also expected him to know what those things were and exactly how to get them.

It meant the same people who put the pressure on him also felt the need to poke fun at his highly regimented life. Still, as uncomfortable as it could be, he had no idea how to just let go.

The creak of the sliding glass door for the balcony alerted him a second before a breeze of air from inside carried the delectable scent of the omega.

He didn’t turn, unsure what to say. Instead, he kept his gaze on the dark skyline.

The wide outdoor couch shifted when she took a seat. He allowed himself to take in her details in the periphery of his vision. A large black sweater—Cullen’s, he thought—covered her body to nearly her knees, and her pale legs showed from there. The question of whether she wore anything beneath popped into his head, but he cursed it away.

Focus. “Did you need something?”

“Air.”

Except, with her so close, he suddenly felt like he had no air, like she’d stolen it all and replaced it with her intoxicating scent. She smelled like fire and female and the other alphas. It all melted together until he couldn’t pick up on anything else.

He closed his eyes, trying to center himself, to remind himself that making any sort of move would be foolish. She carried Reese’s and Cullen’s scents. What would she want with him?

He could give her nothing the others couldn’t give her, had given her, and would probably do better. Seeing the disappointment on her face if he were to try wasn’t his idea of a great time.

Not to mention that the last thing he needed was strain between him and the alphas. He didn’t want to end up tossed out. That was not in his plans.

“How old are you?” Kara’s voice held a wealth of amusement he didn’t care for.

“Twenty-one.”

“God, you really are just a pup, aren’t you?”

He turned a side-long glare her way, unwilling to fully engage but also unwilling to not show some spark. “You’re not that much older than I am.”

“I’ve got four years on you, but years don’t tell the whole story.” She turned fully toward him. “See, you, I bet you had the normal life. For normal people, twenty-one is a kid, just figuring shit out, just getting their feet wet in the world. For people like me? I’ve been an adult since age thirteen, so my twenty-five is miles away from your twenty-one, pup.”

He wasn’t sure what he thought about her nickname.

Normally, he hated when Reese or Cullen called him ‘kid’. He loathed the reminders of his age, of his inexperience. It felt like weakness, and his alpha side deplored weakness of any kind.

Yet, a strange tingle started inside him when she called him pup. It sat between them like a teasing lure, and he really wanted to follow it no matter where it led.

“And what made your life so hard?”

Kara’s shoulders lifted in a subtle shrug, hidden slightly by the bagginess of her sweater. “I was on my own early. You figure out how to get along the best you can.”

“And that’s why you went into your…line of work?”

Her eyebrow hiked up as she curled her perfect full lips into a smile. “Nice way to put it, but yeah. At thirteen, you don’t have a lot of options. Can’t work a legal job on the books. Had a couple good friends willing to take me in and teach me the trade.”

“Thirteen?” Damon shook his head at the thought of her so young. “At thirteen you should have been protected, not taught to steal.”

“Do you know what happens to most girls who are on their own at that age? Especially omegas? Without skills, the only thing we have worth a damn to most people is what’s between our thighs. I could have ended up a lot worse off. Hell, I make good money, I live on my own terms and I don’t owe anyone shit.”

He nearly missed the rest of her statement when she mentioned what was between her thighs. His initial reaction was an embarrassingly fast erection, followed by a growl at the thought of anyone taking advantage of her in the way she’d hinted.

Damn, Damon might be young, but he normally had a better grip on his reactions. What was it about her that made him lose it?

And why did she have to know it? Because the curl of her lips said she was aware of exactly how much she affected him.

He shook his head, each deep breath he usually used for control serving only to draw her more inside him, like an infection. “I guess I wasn’t there. What do I know about it?”

She tilted her head, the moonlight making her hair impossibly brighter, lit up like a blue beacon in the darkness. Shadows played across her features, making it harder to read her exact expression, and she never made it all that easy.

Finally, she turned her head toward the city, taking the scrutiny off him. “I don’t like the quiet,” she admitted.

The change of conversation threw him, but he tried to keep up. “What quiet?”

She nodded toward the hotel suite. “It’s quiet in there. Out here, I can hear the cars, the city, everything. This many floors up, it’s not as good as home-sweet-home, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Not a fan of quiet? Funny thing for a thief to say.”

“I like when I’m quiet, but actually, noise is a thief’s friend. Covers shit, makes it disappear.”

“What are you trying to make disappear?” The question slipped free from him before he could think better of it, and the instant hard lines of her face said it hadn’t landed well.

She isn’t the sort to want to share secrets with someone she doesn’t know.

“Never mind,” Damon muttered, stretching back in his seat and putting his legs up on the table. “Forget I asked.”

They drifted in the tension for at least a minute, as though she were deciding if she should bolt or stay. He let her make the choice, gave her the space to do so.

After a minute, she twisted to look into the room again, and the droop of her shoulders screamed her choice.

Noise out here was better than silence in there.

She shifted, stretching out and resting her head in his lap. She did it without asking, without checking, but it wasn’t as if he’d turn her down.

No doubt she could tell the effect it had on him, but it didn’t seem to bother her, not even as her cheek rested against his hard-on.

She fidgeted, like snuggling—which couldn’t be right, because if there was one truth in the world, it had to be that Kara was not a woman to snuggle—before finally huffing out a breath and closing her eyes.

Damon risked a single touch to her hair, the strands impossibly soft between his fingers, before he settled in as well. Seemed he wasn’t going any damned place so long as she was comfortable.

And Damon had to admit…he liked the feeling.

* * * *

“Relax,” Reese all but purred into Kara’s ear, his breath warm and more calming than she’d ever admit to.

“I don’t like labs,” she said. “Labs, hospitals—”

“Morgues?” Reese’s joke was joined by a grin.

“Nope, I like morgues. No one asking stupid questions there.”

The conversation helped distract her from the chill that never went away in places like this.

It wasn’t just the chill, though. It was that biting breeze of cold that carried the stink of disinfectant chemicals. It was the white walls and perfect tiles—all surfaces made to wipe clean so no traces of the horrors that happened there would stick.

It took her back to the hospital, to her lying in the bed, barely able to move, the beeping of machines surrounding her. The nurses had been kind, but they’d worn pity like a second skin, all wanting to do whatever they could for the poor broken omega who was too young to have suffered as she had.

Or that was what they’d thought. Still, each one who came in, telling her it would be fine, a sheen in their eyes from tears they’d tried to hide had only driven home the point more fully to Kara.

She didn’t need anyone, and she sure as hell never wanted anyone who had to watch out for her again. She didn’t want anyone paying the price for her actions, for her life.

Nope. She needed to be free.

And standing in the damned lab made her feel like that same young, damaged omega who had been inside that hospital.

The keycards had worked perfectly, Kara’s clipped to the lapel of the suit they’d picked up from a store far too conservative for her tastes. The alphas surrounded her, each having dressed in similar styles.

They played the part of businessmen who had access to omegas who might agree to participate in studies for the right price.

And Kara? She was the bait, the piece of meat to dangle as proof they could get what they claimed.

Given how protected omegas were, how rare, finding willing subjects was a difficult job. Labs hired out for the task, letting others do the footwork. Less reputable ones would give in to abduction if needed, or pay off doctors for samples stolen from unaware omegas.

Being just the subject rankled, but Kara had always been good at playing her part when she needed to, so she walked along between the alphas like a good little omega.

She supposed there could be worse places to be. She’d spent the night sleeping on the balcony, curled around Damon like he was a damned body pillow. For his part, he’d been the perfect gentleman—which both annoyed and charmed her—and remained still for her to sleep on. Between his scent and the hum of the street, Kara had managed a little shut eye.

It meant she didn’t object to the alphas’ presence as she normally did. Hell, she almost enjoyed it. That sexual tension that coursed between them all made her skin sizzle, made every nerve in her feel alive.

Which, she had to admit, was nice.

She’d used temporary brown dye to dull her hair. She couldn’t wait to wash it out, to see it streaming down the drain like the boring, useless shade it was. Still, she needed to look meek. Innocent. Forgettable. Just another brainless omega in need of big strapping alphas to care for her.

If I don’t stop, I might just throw up.

They all turned in to an exam room, following the beta receptionist whose heels clicked against the tile. As least Kara’s snarky thoughts distracted her from her discomfort. Being a bitch had its uses.

“And where did you hear about us?” The receptionist didn’t lift her gaze, peering instead at the tablet in her hands, her fingers tapping away at the screen.

“We used to work with another lab, but they had no idea how to handle omegas. A few complained, and we started losing volunteers,” Reese said.

The receptionist finally lifted her gaze. “I’ve heard that sort of thing before. Rest assured, we take very good care of the omegas who choose to work with us.”

Kara barely hid her eye roll at being talked about as though she were some pet. Yes, we take good care of the omegas! We feed them and walk them every day.

A sharp pain in her side had her looking over to find Cullen ignoring her, but his finger still close, telling her he’d jabbed her in the side so she’d behave.

Joke was on him. She never behaved.

“If you’ll take a seat, the doctor will come in and explain everything.”

The moment the door closed, she let out the loudest groan, one full of all her annoyance.

“Really?” Cullen shook his head. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“That’s because you weren’t the one expected to shut up and be good.”

“Two things you clearly aren’t very good at.” He pointed at the exam table, which was padded and much nicer than she’d have expected. “Why don’t you sit up there?”

All sorts of oh hell no must have crossed Kara’s face before she’d even fully heard the request. Maybe it had taken longer to realize it because her heart suddenly pounded so loud and hard she struggled to hear anything outside her eardrums.

Cullen furrowed his eyebrows, then reached for her.

The action woke her the fuck up. A room wasn’t about to turn her into the fragile omega everyone already expected her to be. She brushed off his hand, then pushed past him. She wanted to hop onto the table, to do it with enough grace and attitude that everyone would forget her moment of panic.

Instead, she froze. It was only for a breath or two, but damn if it didn’t feel like longer, if it didn’t feel like the world ground to a halt around her as she faced off against the table.

As it always did, the world pepped right back into action, and Kara forced her unwilling body to move. She didn’t hop, but slid one hip up, her hands braced on the sides, and plopped onto the padded top with less grace and more reluctance than strictly needed.

Instead of looking at any of them, she kept her gaze down. Get your shit together, girl. You lived through worse than this before. You can sure as hell get through one little exam.

A large tan hand set on her thigh and squeezed. Reese. She’d recognize any part of at least the two older alphas, she’d bet. He said nothing, didn’t force her to answer or talk about it, just offered the touch like a quiet acknowledgment.

Damon spoke up from beside the computer at the edge of the room. “I’m going to need the doctor to sign in.”

Cullen turned his gaze on Damon with a frown. “What? If people just put in their passwords, why do we need you?”

“I could break into it if we had the time, but we don’t. It’s faster if we get him to log in, then it’ll only take me a minute to look up the information.”

“And then what? We distract him?” Reese crossed his arms, looking about as amused as Cullen.

Which meant the two really had no idea how information gathering worked. How many times had she served as a distraction for Erik? Or there was that time she’d tripped Liam down the last few steps on a flight of stairs so everyone was looking at him and not her as she’d swiped a security pass for the upper levels of the building they’d been in.

Basically? The distraction bit was a time-tested way of getting what a person needed.

“One distraction coming up,” Kara said, rubbing her hands together, shaking off the last of her almost-breakdown from before.

If there was one thing she could do with some level of skill other than stealing shit, it was being a nuisance.

Reese had no idea what to think of Kara. She kept him guessing, and while he liked that aspect, he also couldn’t quite get his feet beneath him when dealing with her.

Her moods shifted so fast. When she’d walked into the lab, the stress in her had grown until he’d feared she’d vibrate out of her very skin. She hadn’t even seemed to notice just how bad it had gotten.

Why? What caused that sort of reaction in her?

Many omegas disliked hospitals, especially those omegas who didn’t advertise their designation. Many were afraid of being found out, and many were in hiding.

Whatever had happened to Kara went deeper.

It took him back to her refusal to remove her shirt. She’d fucked them without a second thought, which meant she wasn’t fearful, so what was it? Was completely naked too much? Too close? Did she have some strange tattoo on her?

An alpha’s name?

He cut short the growl that threatened to escape before it had a full chance to vocalize.

After she’d stared down the exam table like it might burn her, when for a split second she’d been a different omega, she’d squared her shoulders and set herself up there anyway.

The sort of determination that took wasn’t lost on him. People thought being brave was about not being afraid, but it wasn’t that. Bravery was about being scared as shit and doing it anyway.

And while he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit he wanted to know, that he wanted to crawl inside her head and figure out what ghosts in her past had made her react that way, he knew it wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t going to say anything, and she didn’t owe those truths to him.

Worse, he couldn’t read her. Reese could read anyone, like walking lie detector. With her, he felt blind. She never reacted the way he expected, and he could never trust anything she said.

Reese knew exactly where that would lead them.

The door opened before any of them had the chance to continue the conversation, and an older doctor walked in. His white hair was pushed back, and he seemed kinder than Reese would have thought. He’d expected doctors who worked in a place like this to be cold and aloof.

Instead, the man could have played Santa if it were that time a year and he stopped shaving for a while.

He gave a kind smile to Kara before acknowledging the alphas. “I’m Dr. Jessy Kallop, and I understand you’re here for a possible research subject procurement contract, correct?”

Cullen nodded, then shook the doctor’s hand. Fine by Reese—he preferred to sit back and pay attention, to try to catch any little tell he could. People got uncomfortable when a person studied them. No one liked that sort of scrutiny. It was nearly impossible to do it while talking to someone without them starting to clam up.

Reese would much rather chime in when necessary, but otherwise keep his mouth shut and learn as much as possible.

Dr. Kallop sat on the small rolling stool before the computer. His fingers moved over the keyboard in the rapid sequence that said he used it often and hardly had to think about it. “Ah, yes. Kelly Garden, right?”

The fake name irked Reese, despite the fact that it shouldn’t. They’d all supplied fake names on the cards and forms, since none of them knew exactly what involvement with Grace’s disappearance the lab might have. Still, he suddenly missed her real name.

Kara nodded, her legs hanging off the exam table. “Yep. That’s me.”

The doctor squinted and leaned closer to his screen, as though his glasses didn’t quite cut it anymore. “Your birthdate?”

“August twenty-nine, 1996.” She rattled off the date without hesitation, telling him she either was exceptional at memorizing things in a short period of time or had used that birthday as a fake one previously.

Dr. Kallop sat back, then twisted to face Kara and the alphas. “I’m going to be honest with you and say we need more volunteers. It’s getting harder and harder to find omegas willing to come in, especially with so many people pushing for mandatory registration.”

The thought of a mandatory registry for all omegas had been volleyed about time and time again, but it never passed. They’d managed a delinquent omega registry, used for omegas who got into enough trouble that the government felt secure in turning them into little more than property.

The idea was used with the bullshit theory that if omegas were properly documented and registered from birth—something capable of being done with specific genetic testing—then they could be best protected. Still, all the discussion had floated between faux fear for omegas’ safety and a general undercurrent of anger against omegas, which were often seen as both fragile and temptresses.

Reese doubted the law would ever pass, since none of the others had, but hell, who knew? He’d long ago learned that people were capable of a very special brand of cruel stupidity missing from the rest of the animal kingdom.

The doctor kept talking. “I can assure you, we take excellent care of the omegas who choose to work with us, and our pay is second to none. I thought we would run a few baseline tests, let you get the feeling for how we do things here. I am one hundred percent sure that by the end of the exam, you’ll feel confident in continuing to do business with us.”

Kara’s hand, resting on her leg, twitched. The movement was so slight, he doubted the doctor noticed, but for some reason it seemed that Reese was entirely tuned in to the omega. Each little breath she took, each movement of hers, drew his focus without him having to think about it. When he studied her, though, he saw it.

Fear. It was written in the way her fingers gripped the exam table, in the tightness of her jaw. Still, he had to give her credit. If he didn’t know what to look for, he’d never have caught it at all.

A not-insignificant part of him wanted to call the whole thing off. He wanted to snarl at the doctor, toss Kara over his shoulder and carry her the hell out of there. Since that wouldn’t be welcome and would ruin their entire plan, he closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then forced his gaze from hers. “That sounds good,” he told the doctor.

Damon stepped back, pretending to be moving out of the doctor’s way, but subtly inserting himself beside the computer.

The doctor took the other alpha’s place, coming forward until he stood just in front of Kara. From beside the exam table, he pulled out a pair of blue gloves, snapping them onto his hands as Kara watched with enough unease, that he worried she might break something on the poor man.

“Relax, dear,” the doctor coaxed.

“I’m relaxed.”

Dr. Kallop’s smile was both knowing and kind. “You aren’t the first omega I’ve dealt with who isn’t a fan of doctors.”

“Is that why they have betas doing the exams?” Kara’s words were rough, a slight bite to them.

“One reason, yes. Also, many omegas come with an alpha”—he turned a quick glance between Reese, Cullen and Damon—“or three. A beta is less likely to rile up an alpha’s possessive nature, which means exams and testing go easier.”

“Why don’t you just get this over with?”

The doctor leaned a hip against the table, his back to Damon. It gave the youngest alpha the chance to slide the last bit and start working on the keyboard, the whir of the air conditioner enough to cover the soft tap of keys.

“You don’t trust me, but you’ll see, I’m not that bad. I won’t do anything without telling you what it is first. If at any time you want to stop, just tell me.”

Kara said nothing back, her eyes not softening a bit.

The doctor sighed, the resigned sound implying he wasn’t shocked by her disbelief. “You don’t seem to want to do this. Why are you, then?” His gaze cut over toward Reese, who had moved closer to the door to help ensure the doctor didn’t glance behind him, where Damon worked. “You aren’t being forced, right? Because I can have security meet you in here. You don’t have to leave with—”

“It’s not like that.” Kara spoke so quickly, the defense enough to startle Reese. “I mean, they aren’t like that. I just really need the money to get me on my feet.”

Kallop nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve heard that plenty of times. We pay in cash, we keep only the name you give us on record and we don’t look too closely into whatever information we’re given.”

“That seems awfully nice,” Kara said, the set of her eyebrows saying she wasn’t about to be taken in by the doctors.

“Well, to be fair, from a business standpoint, it’s simply smart. Omegas who fear being turned in are less likely to volunteer. Further than that, however, a good number of those who come in do it because there isn’t a lot of other work for them. Finding paying work, especially if an omega doesn’t have fake papers yet, isn’t easy. Labs like this offer something, at least. It may not be much, but it might be the difference between sleeping beneath a roof or not.”

The doctor’s tone was what got to Reese. He seemed to mean it, to care. Odd, given that betas rarely gave much of a damn about alphas or omegas.

Then again, how many doctors were bleeding hearts? It seemed to go with the profession.

Kara nodded, her face softening just a hair, just enough to say that the man had managed to endear himself to her at least a little.

“So, what sort of exam are we talking?”

The doctor pulled a syringe from the drawer beside the table, and before it closed, a similar unhappy sound left all three alphas.

It seemed they already had a claim on Kara, at least enough for them to not like to idea of anyone harming her, even if just for drawing blood.

The doctor didn’t seem fazed. “I can ask you three to stand outside if needed. I don’t usually suggest alphas who are intimate with the omegas they bring in remain during exams. You tend to cause problems.”

The reminder that Kara carried Reese’s and Cullen’s scents caused a storm of feelings inside Reese. He disliked the doctor’s tone, or any negativity toward Kara that might be there, but damn if he didn’t love that she carried his scent.

Cullen cut Reese a hard look. “We’ll be fine. Please, continue.”

Kara held her arm out, and the doctor drew a vial of blood with ease. After that, he pressed the vial into a machine to the left of the exam table, keeping his back to Damon.

The machine whirred to life, and Kallop started on the rest of the exam. He took blood pressure, heart rate, checked Kara’s eyes and ears.

The entire thing reminded him a bit too much of a vet check-up for a dog, with the doctor writing down the results but not communicating much.

After finishing with the baseline information, he took clipboard and pen in hand and faced Kara. “Now for the questions. We have to know if there are any reasons you’d be unable to participate in any specific study. Are you on any medications? Suppressants?”

“Nope.”

“Very good.” The scratch of his pen against the paper said he was writing down her answers. “And have you had any recent injuries or surgeries?”

She pointed at her face, at the bruising there from her run in with the man who had waited inside her apartment. “Just this. A mugger stopped me on the way home, and I wasn’t quick enough handing over my purse.” The lie rolled off her tongue so easily and with such certainty that Reese again reminded himself not to trust her.

He almost believed her, and he knew the truth.

“That happens, unfortunately. Your stats all look good. Blood pressure and O2 levels are good. Your lungs sound clear.”

She nodded toward the machine that still clicked and whirred. “What’s that for?”

“Basic hormone checks. A few betas have come in claiming to be omegas for the money. We like to do a quick test to check first.”

Damon worked quickly, his fingers moving so fast, Reese was again impressed. Getting his phone to work was too much for Reese some days, and yet Damon could make a computer sing with a few mindless keystrokes. The set of the younger alpha’s eyebrows said whatever he was finding wasn’t useful.

Kara must have caught the same thing, because her lips tipped down the slightest bit. “I had a friend who came in,” she said.

Cullen gave her a glare over the doctor’s shoulder, as if to try to silence her.

Like anything silences her.

“Oh really? I handle exams for most of the omegas who come in. What’s her name?”

“Grace. She’s the one who recommended you, actually. I mean, I’d already considered doing this and talking to their group”—she nodded toward Reese—“but Grace said she liked it here.”

The doctor tapped his pen against his lips before a smile broke out. “Oh, yes, Grace. I remember her. She’s the young blonde, isn’t she?”

Kara nodded, feigning a delighted smile. “Yes, that’s her!”

“What happened to her? She was quite sweet when she came in for a preliminary, but I never heard from her again.”

Kara’s smile fell. “I don’t know, honestly. She’s sort of fallen off the face of the Earth.”

The frown on the doctor’s face seemed honest enough, though not surprised. “I was afraid of that.”

“You were? Why?” Reese pipped the question in.

“We get a lot of omegas on the run. Sadly, them disappearing isn’t all that uncommon. I don’t like it, but it’s part of life. She seemed anxious while she was here, asking a lot of questions.”

“Don’t most volunteers ask questions?”

“No. They tend to want to get their money and get out as quickly as possible. It’s why I remember her, because it was so unusual to have someone who wanted to understand what we did so well. Though, she said she worked at another one of our labs, a smaller one, as an intern. I thought her interest was due to that, but she was still nervous, looking over her shoulder a lot.” His eyes, aged and kind, met Kara. “Was she in trouble?”

“She didn’t say anything to me.”

He reached out and set a weathered hand on Kara’s knee. “Don’t blame yourself. You can’t help someone who doesn’t tell you the truth.” He went to pull back, but Damon made a quick pointing motion from behind him.

Not quite done then, huh?

Reese went to ask a question, to keep the attention away from Damon as he finished, but Kara beat him there.

Didn’t it seem they were always playing catch-up when it came to that omega?

She dropped her head in her hands and began to sob. Loudly. “I just should have done more!”

The antics were so quick, Reese fought the desire to comfort her himself. Even knowing it was a scheme, even realizing she wasn’t the sort to break into tears, his brain instantly snapped over to we need to fix this shit now mode.

Instead, the doctor, who looked more than a little surprised, rushed into action. He came forward and gathered Kara in a hug. Luckily for him, the hug was entirely innocent, with him stroking his hand over her hair—he’d probably end up with some of the temporary dye on it—and offering comfort in a very grandfatherly way.

Which was the only reason Reese resisted the initial desire to remove the good doctor’s hand for touching Kara that way.

Reese’s jealousy abated even more when Kara lifted her face and, rather than the blotchy, red-rimmed eyes he’d expected, he found a glare from the blue-eyed imp as she mouthed hurry the fuck up to Damon.

Reese fought his newest desire, which was to laugh at the entire thing.

Kara’s wails were over the top, her hands grasping the doctor’s coat. “I just miss her so much,” she sobbed.

“I know,” he reassured her, patting one of his large hands on her back. “She might still show up. What if I put in your information in her file? So if she comes back, I can make sure to let her know you’re looking for her?”

Damon struck a few more keys before sliding away from the computer and giving a thumbs-up.

“Yeah,” Kara said on a sniffle, pulling back. “I would appreciate that.”

The doctor moved away, and despite the fact that Kara looked rather put together for a woman who had just had such a sudden and ridiculous breakdown, the doctor didn’t appear to take notice. He sat at his computer, typing in a slow pecking motion that again showed how talented Damon was.

Kallop frowned. “I don’t see her file. It should be here.” He leaned forward, clicking a few more buttons, before shaking his head. “This happens sometimes. I’ll contact IT and add it when they fix the problem.”

A beep from the machine with the vial of blood broke the conversation, and the doctor went to it, taking the small printed sheet it had dispensed.

He held it up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You function remarkably well,” he said, almost mindlessly.

Tension shot through Kara, but her voice was steady when she answered. “What?”

The doctor slid the piece of paper beneath the clasp of the clipboard. “I’ve dealt with a few omegas in your condition, and without treatment, it tends to be rather difficult to manage. If I didn’t have the results here, I’d never have suspected.”

Kara said nothing, her jaw tight.

Reese asked the question the alphas hadn’t realized they needed. “What condition?”

The doctor lifted his gaze to Reese, eyes confused, as though he wasn’t sure why they didn’t already know. Then again, they had posed as a procurement company, which meant they would have already done all the needed testing on any omega who worked with them.

What was it that they didn’t know about Kara? Would it help them understand her better?

The doctor tapped his finger against the results. “She’s sterile.”