Finishing up with whatever he was typing, he spun his rolling chair around to face me and shook his head. “I don’t dislike babies. Babies just…don’t like me.”
This time, I couldn’t contain my amusement. I guffawed. “Babies don’t know what they like or dislike, little brother. Youknow that. You’re just awkward with them and they pick up on the tension.” My laughter softened out. “You know…I don’t think it would be the same if you had your own.”
He was shaking his head again even before I finished the sentence. “Nope. I’m not looking for an alpha. I’m content just observing everyone else’s bondings. I don’t need to experience any of it myself.”
“Hmm.” This time, I was the one humming with the knowledge that I was being fed half-truths. “Well, like you said, people change their minds all the time. You might one day, too.”
“Doubtful,” he replied, then swiftly changed the topic back to me. “Anyway,” he said, “part of the process Brandt and I have refined over the past couple of years is to match the dosage with your species’ hormone levels. So, before I just throw a package of pills at you, I want to run a couple of blood tests. Plus, we need to check your blood pressure and overall health, too.”
I groaned. “I knew you’d turn me into one of your projects,” I grumbled.
My brother just stared at me expectantly until I caved.
“Fine,” I thrust out my arm, “do your worst.”
Chapter Eighteen
Imight have bent the truth a little when I told my mates that the issue was arranging transportation for some of my more questionable belongings. The issue wasn’t that I didn’t have shifter contacts who could do it, it was that I was all but being blackmailed before they would.
Word had traveled about Shifters Sanctuary, of course. What I hadn’t gambled on was my personal involvement being broadcast along with the general knowledge that the shifters in Iowa had discovered how to release peoples’ locked alpha designations. My contacts in Europe were not stupid: they had put two and two together and knew that I had likely performed the spells involved in the process.
There was some (understandable) bitterness coming my way from those who felt I should have brought The Magic to help in their communities instead. Sadly, no amount of explaining that The Magic had other plans would sway their opinions.
I understood why. To those who couldn’t feel the unearthly pull, it sounded like wishy-washy excuses. It was something I could not prove, and that they could not quantify, so I could see why they were frustrated.
But I was also growing increasingly frustrated. I wanted to return to my mates, to the home I was going to settle in for as long as my mates wanted to stay there. And I couldn’t do that while my contacts refused to assist me.
Ironically, given the task Sage and Dex had been assigned by their pack, I wore scent blockers for all of my dealings with my contacts and always had. None of them knew my species, and I liked to keep it that way. Fortunately, because they were used to my use of the blockers, none of them questioned my use now, either. This was a good thing, because I didn’t particularly want them to discover my change in designation, either. I felt that would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull — in some cases, quite literally.
Having returned to my barren apartment after another day spent in fruitless pursuit of willing transport, I collapsed into my leather armchair and sighed. The Magic was beginning to get restless beneath my skin, my inner alpha stamping his hooves and braying for me to return to my mates. As the two additional weeks came to a close, I realized that I might just have to abandon my property, or at least store it somewhere until such time as I could return to try again.
At least I could call my mates and get some measure of comfort by simply talking to them.
But, just as I was reaching for my phone, there was a knock at the door. I frowned. My neighbors never bothered me, and I didn’t have any close friends in the country, either. So, who was at my door?
Letting out a soft grunt, I pushed back to my feet and crossed the space towards the front door, swinging it open just as another round of sharp, rapid knocks sounded. The man on theother side stumbled forward, not having been prepared for the door to swing open unexpectedly.
“Shit,” he cursed in a familiar Irish brogue, righting himself before scowling at me. “You could have given me some warning.”
“Jamie,” I replied curtly, cautiously eyeing the man who had most likely followed me from my final meeting in the city, “what are you doing here?”
The omega rolled his eyes and brushed past me, sauntering into my apartment as though he’d been invited. He did a slow circle, clearly taking in the piles of neatly stacked boxes against the walls, then finally faced me again, tucking wild auburn curls behind his ears. “I came to beg you to see reason,” he answered.
I shook my head but closed my apartment door, resigning myself to another long, likely unsatisfying conversation for the both of us. Jamie Bartlett was an entrepreneurial shifter and a businessman at heart, but he was less threatening than a box of kittens. Literally. The man was a squirrel shifter and, even though he was young and fit where I was on the wrong side of middle-aged, he was still physically outmatched.
“I am seeing reason,” I told him calmly. “It’s you that won’t. The Magic—”
“Oh, pull the other one,” he cut me off, gesturing angrily in the air between us, “it plays fucking Jingle Bells.”
“Jamie, please listen—”
“No,” he stepped in closer and jabbed his index finger into my chest, “youlisten. You have the knowledge to help shifter communities all over the damned world and—” he paused and scented the air, his eyes goingwide.
Well, shit.
“—and you’re a fuckingalpha, too.” Frown deepening, Jamie curled his fingers around the lapels of my jacket until his knuckles turned white. “Is this why you wear the blockers?” He shook his head before I could answer. “It doesn’t matter. You’re an alpha and you know how to unlock other alphas. Youhaveto help us. Keeping the secret in one tiny town in fuckingAmerica, of all places…”
“The plan has always been to spread the word once it became more practicable. Right now, there’s still no way of knowing who is a potential alpha and who is not. Once we know how to narrow it down—”
