Chapter 36
The receptionist pursed her lips as she gestured to the scuffed guest chair. “Mr. Channing will be here shortly, but if you’d care to have a seat…” Her words trailed off.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Grant took the time to breathe deep and get his mind set to play his role. He had to be perfect. Everything depended on convincing Channing to trust him.
The inner door of the waiting room opened to admit a slender beta in an elegant black suit, burgundy shirt, and gray tie. His expression was polite, but his eyes were narrowed with suspicion as he extended his hand to Grant. “Mr. Tenereth, I’m Craig Channing.” They shook hands, and the man offered Grant a business card. “Your visit is highly irregular. There is a very strict process involved, and I’m afraid we can’t have alphas dropping in willy-nilly.”
“Yes, I understand. However, I’m here looking for information from an omega you have in custody. I’m certain he has knowledge regarding the kidnapping of the omega children from Mr. Lowther’s facility.”
Channing scoffed. “An omega helping with an investigation?” The man’s polite expression curled into a condescending smirk. “You’re not serious, are you?”
Refusing to give in to the anger sparking in him, Grant managed a genial smile. “This is not just any omega. He’s an adult who’s been in hiding for twenty-eight years.”
“Oh. Him.” Contempt hung heavy in his voice.
Grant stifled the urge to dance a victory jig. The man had as much as admitted Rafael was somewhere in the building.
Channing crossed his arms and raised his chin. “He won’t be of any help to you—he’s going into heat and isn’t able to answer questions. His alpha will be taking him home tomorrow, and we can’t interfere.”
The elation vanished, and a growl rose in Grant’s throat. His alpha? Rafael couldn’t have an alpha because Grant was his alpha! Shoving aside his possessive rage, he wrenched his control back in place. “I assure you, Rafael Vargas has information vital to recovering the twenty-two omegas who were stolen.”
That caught the man’s attention. Channing’s eyebrows rose, no doubt calculating how much money he stood to lose if all those potential sales remained out of his reach.
Grant pressed his advantage. “If we fail to find those children, twenty-two alphas are going to be very unhappy. Especially if they think you obstructed the investigation.”
The quick flash of alarm on the man’s face was almost laughable.
After a few moments consideration, Channing said, “I suppose you can try to ask your questions. I think it’s a waste of time, but, of course, we’ll cooperate.” He turned and opened the interior door. “Follow me, please.”
The plan was working! As soon as he was past the doorway, Grant’s mouth fell open. The shabby, low-rent atmosphere had transformed into elegant opulence. Thick carpeting muffled their steps as Grant followed the man through a softly-lit paneled hallway lined with paintings. The heady fragrance of fresh flowers wafted from the huge vases set at intervals along the way. Grant inhaled deep. There it was, just a trace hidden beneath the floral barrage—that wonderful scent of Rafael. His omega had passed through this hall. Grant’s pulse quickened.
They entered a plush elevator. At first glance, Grant was impressed at the size of it. Then the truth hit him. It was scaled to accommodate drugged omegas laid out on gurneys on their way to their fate. He hid his disgust behind a pleasant facade.
The elevator let them out onto the second floor, and the beta led him down the hall to one of many identical doors. Next to each door was a discreet gold frame with a status card in it. This one read Claimed
Grant could feel his blood pressure rising. No one was going to claim Rafael except him. Keeping one hand in his pocket, a finger on his phone keypad, Grant focused on Channing’s every movement.
Using the same type of keycard as those in the children’s facility, the man swiped the lock open. At the same moment, Grant hit “send” on his phone, rushing the prearranged one word text to Janet: “Now!”
As Channing opened the door an inch, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned. “Excuse me a moment.” He accepted the call. “Channing here. Who is this?”
Grant stood frozen in front of the barely open door, willing the man to leave. The rich omega scent wafting out of the room stirred him, inflaming the need to claim the omega as his own. The urge to push past the insignificant beta roared through him, but he fought hard against it.
At last Channing ended the call and dialed another number. The call failed. He tried again. Same result. With an exasperated sigh, he addressed Grant. “Someone’s trying to steal my car, and I can’t get through to security.” He let go of the door.