“Of course,” he says, letting me in. “Lexi and Emmett are doing some errands. So we have the house.”
“It’s nothing secretive,” I shrug, coming inside.
Harlan follows me, and we walk back to the living room where Aiden is already sitting.
“What’s that smell?” he asks, confused. “Why do you smell like an omega? Are you fucking around on Silva?”
“What?” I ask, shaking my head. “Fuck no. Why are you asking me that?”
“You reek of marshmallows,” Sloane says, wrinkling his nose. “Have you been making s’mores or some shit?”
Harlan and I both smell our clothes when we realize what they mean.
“No,” I say. “That’s Isidro’s scent. He’s an omega.”
“No fucking way!” Sloane says, shaking his head. “I’ve known him for years. He’s definitely a beta. Why the fuck are you lying to us?”
“Ugh,” I groan. “He’s currently pissing a stream to flush the rest of his suppressants. He’s been on them the entire time we’ve been working together. Once a year, he ditches them to have a heat. Why do you think we take a week off during that time?”
“Use your brains, please,” Harlan grumbles. “Isidro has been hiding his designation because he didn’t believe he’d be able to do his job otherwise. He’s incredible at what he does.”
“I’m trying to process this,” Aiden confesses. “I can’t say either way if he’d have been able to do what he does. Omegas draw attention. His scent hit me in the face as soon as you came into the room. Why is he suddenly detoxing?”
“He is pretending to be interested in sex work tonight,” I explain.
Sloane and Aiden stare at Harlan and I as if I just broke their brains, making me groan. Pulling out my phone, I text Izzy to come over. I apparently need to offer proof of omega.
“It’s his cover while we get into the club that’s holding Syrus’ sister hostage,” I say. “She’s definitely being trafficked in New Mexico. However, in order to be able to play the part, Isidro needs to finish purging his meds. We’re not planning to lead missions anymore.”
“It’s unhealthy for him to hide his designation, and coming down from them is rough,” Harlan adds. “We’re opening a new security business, and we might have new hires. Gary is sending us people from his side of things that are tired of government work.”
“We got the email yesterday. We just haven’t had a chance to reach out to each one of them yet,” I say.
“We’ve been talking about packing it in ourselves, and figuring out something closer to home. You guys move really fast,” Aiden says.
“Well, there’s a place for you if you want it,” Harlan says. “These guys need training as they assimilate into civilian life. You’ve both experienced it, who better to do the job?”
“One of the surrounding towns probably has space we can rent out so we aren’t bringing more alphas into Widows Peak,” I suggest. “It doesn’t need to be a difficult shift from running missions to facilitating them. You can make sure they’re up to snuff for what’s waiting for them.”
“You definitely don’t fuck around,” Sloane sighs. “Yeah, I’m game. I do enjoy being scary and beating the shit out of people. Calling it training is just making it sound very official.”
Snorting, I nod as my phone vibrates.
Izzy
I’m here. Am I in trouble?
Rolling my eyes, I walk to the front door and let him in.
“Why would you be in trouble?” I ask, pulling him back to the living area.
Sloane and Aiden’s nostrils flare before they relax with a sigh.
“That’s a big fucking secret you’ve been carrying,” Aiden grunts. “Damn, I’m sorry you felt it was necessary. Even if you thought being on a mission did mean you needed to be on suppressants, we’ve worked with you for a long fucking time.”
Sloane nods, crossing his arms as he gazes at Isidro.
“Omegas are just as lethal as any other designation,” he says. “I think we definitely saw that in that basement at Henderson Estate. I’m having flashbacks of the torture. The Widows don’t fucking play. I’ve been watching you work for years, and you can just turn off all your emotions to get shit done, just like the rest of us. Being an omega isn’t a weakness.”
