“Hey,” I say.
His attention returns to his tablet, but I get the distinct impression he saw everything he needed to in those few seconds of observation.
Kain touches his elbow, and the two men move toward the bar. Kain’s attention stays on Reef, tracking the Omega’s movements with territorial focus. When Reef shifts, Kain adjusts his stance to maintain the same distance between them. When Reef sets down his tablet to accept a drink from Ghost, Kain follows the motion of his hands.
Reef appears oblivious to the attention, but the act doesn’t fool me. No Omega misses that kind offocus from an Alpha. He’s choosing to ignore it, which tells me volumes about their relationship dynamics.
“Kain is a programmer, and Reef is a professional gamer,” Rowan informs me.
As Kain and Reef head for a booth in the corner, the front door opens again, letting in a blast of cold air that carries the scent of winter and expensive cologne.
A young man with artfully tousled copper hair slides inside, shrugging off a leather jacket to reveal arms covered in intricate tattoos that disappear beneath the sleeves of his thin T-shirt.
He surveys the room as if returning home rather than entering a workplace, then hops onto a table edge instead of taking any of the empty chairs.
“Silas,” Rowan acknowledges. “You’re late.”
“Traffic,” Silas responds with a lazy grin that suggests he wasn’t concerned about punctuality. His fingers drum on his thigh in a restless pattern as he takes me in.
Another Omega, based on the subtle notes in his scent. Confident enough to maintain direct eye contact. The way he perches rather than sits suggests he doesn’t plan to stay in one place long.
“So you’re the infamous locksmith.” Silas tilts hishead, studying me with open curiosity. “We’ve all been eager to meet the man who twisted Rowan around his little finger.”
Ghost slides a drink across the bar without Silas having to order. “He found gaps in our security on the first walkthrough.”
Silas’s eyebrows lift. “Impressive.” His fingers continue their restless tapping on his glass once he retrieves it. “Rowan spent a lot of money on that system.”
“Silas is a professor at the local university,” Rowan says. “He teaches psychology.”
The other Omega shoots me a flirty wink.
Two more men enter with matching strides despite their different builds. The broader one assesses the room, marking each exit before turning his attention to Rowan. His shoulders span the width of a doorframe, and his presence reminds me of a guard dog ready to attack.
The second man is leaner, sharper, with features carved from marble. Unlike his companion, this one assesses me right away.
“Vail. Luca.” Rowan gestures them forward. “Meet Ash.”
Vail, the broader one, lifts his chin in greeting. “The locksmith.”
I twitch, wondering how much Rowan told these men about me.
Luca focuses on Rowan. “He one of us, now?”
“He’ll be revamping our security,” Rowan says, which isn’t the same as what Luca asked.
Disappointment rises, but I stuff it back down. This is already more than I expected.
As the two men head for the bar, Rowan leans down to murmur in my ear. “Vail runs an underground fighting ring, and Luca is a driver.”
My brow furrows. “A driver? For what?”
He nuzzles my cheek. “Anything with wheels.”
The answer only leaves me with more questions, but it’s clear that’s all I’ll get for now.
The bar continues to fill as another man claims a stool at the far end, setting up a laptop without greeting anyone. His fingers fly across the keyboard, the blue light from the screen reflecting off wire-rimmed glasses.
“That’s William,” Rowan explains, following my gaze. “He works in a lab for his day job.”
