To Tame an Omega

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sitting in the lobby of the soulless, bleak government building, Rafe welcomed the numbing cold of the suppressant. A shroud, dark and smothering, had crept over his true self. It was just what he needed—somewhere safe for his omega to hide. He could handle the chill, but the metallic taste coating his tongue turned his stomach. On the bright side, vomiting on the prime alpha might convince the man to keep his distance.

In the next chair, Caldwell harrumphed every few minutes at being kept waiting. He might not be the typical alpha, but the man still possessed that arrogant self-importance so common in them. At least the ones Rafe hadn’t been able to avoid.

After twenty long, uncomfortable minutes, a young woman dressed in conservative business attire arrived and guided them to the office of the Director of the Omega Council. She knocked on the door, opened it, and gestured for the two to enter, closing the door behind them.

Rafe caught himself edging behind Caldwell, instinctively seeking protection of an alpha—any alpha. Berating himself for his weakness, he moved to stand next to his boss and face Grant Tenereth head on.

A gasp threatened to escape Rafe’s throat as the alpha rose. My God, the man was magnificent—tall, muscular, with wavy brown hair rebelling against the careful combing. Almost drooling, Rafe watched the prime specimen stalk around the huge mahogany desk and extend his hand to Caldwell.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Caldwell. I appreciate your prompt response and what I hope will be your cooperation.” The voice was low and pleasant. Rafe could have listened to it for hours.

When the gorgeous alpha turned toward him, Rafe had to fight the urge to sink to his knees in submission. The man exuded power—not bluster, just quiet, confident authority. Wishing the suppressants dulled his instincts as well as his hormones, Rafe stiffened his legs and accepted the offered handshake, letting himself revel in the strength and the dizzying intimacy of skin-to-skin contact.

“So you’re the cyber wizard.” The man’s gaze scorched Rafe from head to toe, leaving him panting. A lazy smile curved those generous lips. “I think we’ll work well together.”

Melting under the power of that smile, Rafe couldn’t form words. It needed Caldwell jabbing him with a sharp elbow before he managed to respond. “Um, sure, anything you want.” Inwardly, he groaned. Anything you want? Why not just bend over and be done with it?

Tenereth cast a puzzled look at Rafe, then gestured toward the black leather guest chairs. “Please make yourselves comfortable.” Returning to his seat behind the desk, he announced, “Gentlemen, the Omega Council needs both your assistance and your discretion. As to the second, you’ll have to read and sign nondisclosure agreements before we go any further.” He slid a prepared document and a pen to each of them and waited.

Rafe skimmed the agreement, which said nothing other than he’d be facing severe penalties if he revealed information from this assignment. Shrugging, he signed, as did Caldwell.

Tenereth collected the documents and set them in his out-box. “Welcome aboard.”

Caldwell asked, “So what’s all the secrecy about?”

“I’m sorry to say, but our omegas are under attack.”

Caldwell stiffened and demanded, “Who dares to threaten them?” He gripped the arms of the chair like he was preparing to hoist his bulk upward in defense of the helpless, cowering omegas.

“That’s what I want Rafael to help me discover.”

Rafe shifted in his chair. When Tenereth had said his name, the man elongated the syllables like some kind of Italian endearment. On the alpha’s lips, the name had music.

“Two days ago the local facility that houses young omegas was raided. Twenty-two children were kidnapped.”

Caldwell’s face turned florid. “How could this happen? Where was security?”

Across the desk, the director’s handsome features narrowed. “I’m sorry to say, security officers inside were watching a looped video showing nothing wrong. The guards outside left their posts to investigate various perfectly targeted diversions.”

Despite the danger he was in, Rafe almost smiled at the tone of disgust on the word “diversion.” He was proud of the time he’d spent digging into the guards’ personal lives and crafting the right lure to attract them: a garbled phone call from Thompson’s ex-wife, a whimpering puppy for Clark, and last, for Cavelli, the aroma of home-baked sausage-basil lasagna straight from his Italian mama’s recipe.

“The attack was planned and executed by a team of skilled professionals. I need a cyber security expert to backtrack the hack.” The prime alpha growled, “I want these bastards found!”

Rafe’s pulse jumped at the man’s harsh tone. This was no self-absorbed preening alpha like Caldwell. This was an intense, dedicated man. Deceiving him was not going to be easy.

Caldwell bobbed his head in agreement. “What are their demands?”

“Nothing.” Tenereth’s hands curled into fists. “Not a damned word yet. They could be doing anything to those innocent children, and we’re helpless.”

Rafe read the pain and fear in those storm gray eyes. The man truly cared about the omegas—and not as breeding stock.

“And it’s our fault. The council never should have relinquished control and contracted with Synergenics for the security and care of our omegas. We’ve been trapped in a hands-off policy for the last fifteen years.” Rafe wondered if the man’s jaw would c***k from the pressure being applied. “Now look where that got us.”

“Homeland Security has no suspects? No leads?”

“Homeland isn’t involved yet.”

A stunned Caldwell, for once, had no comment to offer.

Well, it was good news for Rafe, but why the hell wasn’t Homeland involved?

“I received orders to investigate quietly—anything to avoid publicity.” The man’s bitterness and frustration with that constraint were unmistakable.

Ignoring Caldwell’s open-mouthed look of shock, Tenereth appeared to regain control of his emotions and stood. “So, we have to move now. Mr. Caldwell, any information you might be able to glean—with discretion—would be useful. But no word of this attack can be leaked. People cannot know our omegas are vulnerable.”

Caldwell nodded his agreement.

“In the meantime, Rafael will come with me to the facility to examine the computer security.”

About to be left out, Caldwell protested, “But shouldn’t I come, too?”

The director shook his head. “We limit the number of people who know the location of the facility—alphas, in particular. I, myself, have never visited. The remaining omegas at the facility are in distress, so there’s a slight chance the presence of multiple alphas might trigger a premature heat.”

Puffing his chest out, Caldwell said, “Of course. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm the poor little darlings, would we?”

Rafe clamped his lips shut to keep from commenting. The day Caldwell would cause any omega to go into heat would be the first Friday after never. As for Grant Tenereth, the quiet, commanding holy grail of hotness? Well, that was something else entirely.

The three of them stood, and Caldwell turned to Rafe and patted him on the shoulder. “Do the company proud, son. I’ll be expecting a full report when you return.” He walked out the door, leaving Rafe to face a cozy little drive for two to the crime scene to investigate his own illicit handiwork.

Dreading being in such close quarters with the powerful alpha, Rafe had to force himself to follow Tenereth to the man’s government-issued black SUV. His inner omega, however, merrily skipped along behind the alpha, wallowing in the submissive role.

When they reached the vehicle, Rafe hesitated, his fingers poised on the door handle. As he urged himself to get a grip and assume his customary mask of a beta, a gust of wind spat raindrops at his face. Shading his eyes with one hand, Rafe looked to the west. A second storm front was building while the first one refused to move on. He watched the dark, churning clouds collide and roll. The wind was fighting itself for dominion.

He could relate.

Damned hormones.

Damned f*****g alphas.