“My name is Aaron Roseland.”
“Mmm.”
“Down, Pix,” I murmur.
“Pix?” the alpha asks before he can stop himself.
“Pix, as in pictures. It’s what I do…well, some of what I do.” The suggestive tone and smoldering look he gives Roseland charges the air.
“Ooh, boy, we got a live one,” Meg says under her breath.
“Detective Roseland, are you shopping for an omega?” Pix purrs.
“No. I have one.”
Pix flinches back. His expression and face dropping with shock, but he covers it up quickly. I want to say no one but me saw it, but the detective clearly saw his expression, too, and it looks like he regrets it.
“You have an omega? Well, look at that. Fortune favours the handsome and those with forked fucking tongues. If ya’ll don’t need me anymore, I’m going to go up and get naked with my flavour of the day. At least I know where this one’s been.”
I let go of Meg, turning to watch Pix stalk back to the house.
The hurt in his voice is something new, but you’d have to know him as well as I do to be able to hear it.
The detective tenses, and when I hear the door open, I know without looking that it’s Mark. He’s probably not wearing much; he hates clothes, and Meg has told me that, objectively, he’s very, very pretty, so I guess the alpha is getting a good, healthy dose of ‘fuck you’ from my brother and his best friend.
Pix walks up to Mark and murmurs something, then kisses my brother passionately. I mask the shock.
The Detective growls.
“Detective, is there anything else you need?” I ask coldly, glaring at him as he stares after my friend.
“No. I just…no. Thank you for your time, Omega Sanderson.”
“Have a nice evening, Alpha Roseland.”
He flinches but quickly turns and walks away. I stay outside, waiting until his car leaves before I let myself go and fall heavily on the porch.
“Well, that was interesting,” Meg says. “You won the pool.”
“Meg!” I warn.
“Well, we all thought it would be someone else. It’s not like the people you kill die dramatically. They are low-key and kinda lame.”
“Hey!” I snap at her. “Are you calling my papa lame?”
“I would never ever call Papa Sanderson lame,” Meg says and crosses her heart. “Desi would, though.”
“Do not throw me under the bus, my love,” Desi says from inside the house.
“I can’t help it, Desi-dear.”
I gag and then shove Meg off me and get up. “We need a meeting!”
“YAY!” Meg says happily.
Pix throws open the front door and disappears into the house before anyone can ask any questions, including why the air smells like bitter jam.
Bonnie
