Julien nods, acknowledging the display of submission. “Where’s Brody?”
The shifter in question jogs over from the direction of the front entrance. “Trying to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“And…?”
Brody shrugs. “I’m not sure. No one’s gotten out of the vehicles and I can’t pick up any scents from in here.”
“They’re likely Rossi’s men and, since we’re in his territory, that limits our options.” Julien pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re here in Chicago by invitation, so they can’t attack us outright, but at the same time, I don’t have any authority over them. I can’t pull rank or take them out. Something like that would give Rossi cause to have me brought before the triumvirate. Or outright challenge me.”
A shudder runs down my back, the image of my dad’s mangled body flashing through my mind at the mention of a challenge. I don’t think many civilized packs these days do the whole ‘fight to the death and then dismemberment’ thing, but still…I don’t want that happening to Julien.
“Can I just pull the omega card?” I ask. “You said something about free passage. If that works for all omegas, can I extend that to you guys or something since you told Rossi I was a guest of your pack? That might at least get us out of here.”
Remy shakes his head. “Even if they took your word for it, given what Rossi already knows about you, they probably have orders to kill us and take you by any means necessary. And, with no one to say otherwise, who’s to say you didn’t go with Rossi willingly, or that you even existed at all?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve looked into you,” says Remy. “There’s no record of you anywhere. Your old pack never registered you or your status as an omega. I found that out easily enough, so Rossi probably knows it as well by now. His best course of action is to simply make you disappear.”
“Doesn’t the fated mates thing trump that? I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of getting claimed in a dirty bar bathroom, but…”
Remy winces. “That might even make it worse.”
“How?”
His gaze darts to Julien, as if asking his permission for something. Julien nods. Remy’s gaze finds mine. “I’m assuming you don’t actually know that much about omegas or the laws—and superstitions—surrounding them.”
“You assume correctly,” I say, then pause, my mind drifting back to my old pack. “Well, I’m pretty clear on at least one superstition.”
“That male omegas are anathema,” says Remy.
No,abomination. The cleric’s voice echoes in my head, and I flinch away from the thought. Julien tightens his hold on me, pulling me closer to his body, as if protecting me from my own memories.
“It’s not true,” says Remy firmly. “But we’ll talk more about that later. Your legal status is easily remedied by Julien claiming you, but Rossi finding out you’re my brother’s fated mate makes him even more likely to try to take possession of you.”
“Why?”
“If he can’t prevent us from consummating our bond, gaining control of you would give him control over me and, through me, my pack,” says Julien. “But you’re even more valuable to him if we are unmated.”
“What do you mean?”
“Omegas bring power and prosperity to any pack they mate into,” says Remy. “But from what I understand, that only happens when an omega meets their fated mate. No fated mate, no magical perks. Rossi would much prefer that Julien never receive the benefits of mating an omega and once an omega mates, whatever it is that makes them special is only useful to their mate. But an unmated omega… some think that there’s power to be had or, rather, taken.”
“I don’t get it.”
Remy looks distinctly uncomfortable. “Depending on the source, certain parts hold more power than others. Eyes… hands… er, organs…”
“He wants to sell me for parts,” I say, turning the idea over in my head. “But if Julien claims me, I’m worthless.”
“Not worthless,” says Julien. “Mine.” He runs his nose over my neck again and I lean back into his chest.
Dante’s lips curl into the ghost of a smile as he watches. Glad his Alpha is happy? “Now that we’ve settled the fact that we aren’t simply walking out the front door, how about finding a back way outta here?”
“We can use the exit by the kitchen. It’s the farthest from the front entrance,” I say.
“Sounds like a plan,” says Dante. He jerks his chin at Brody. “You and me in front.”
I direct the group toward the back of the club, where the employee areas are, then to the kitchen and the rearmost exit.
