Chapter Text
“Matty? Hey, I have a real problem case on my hands. Could use some help if you’ve got time.”
I frowned, scratching deep in my curls, nails grazing over my scalp. “Jane, I’ve been booked solid the last three weeks…”
“I know, Matty, I know, but I need a real experienced hand on this. I’m sorry, but Jace is out of town, and Aubrey is already busy with three other cases. I don’t have another A vetted to handle this kind of… delicate situation.”
I groaned, “Dammit, I just Eathubbed Chinese…” I was already on my feet and grabbing a duffle from the closet anyway. Jane didn’t call for emergency help for no reason.
“Sorry,” I could hear the smirk in her voice.
“Heated up?”
“No, at least I don’t think so. Real doubtful, but nobody can really get close.” Jane made a deeply troubled sound that made me grab a second bag from the closet, just in case. “Deeply agitated. Real bitey. Nonverbal. Allegedly brought the cops to a standstill before they called me, and I can’t get through either. Scents god awful.”
“Glad I just showered, I guess.” I grabbed my wallet and keys, tucking them in my jacket pockets and locking the apartment door behind me. “Heading to my car now. Where am I going?”
“The docks. I’ll text you the address. Thanks, Matty.”
“Not a problem, Jane. See you soo-”
“Matty.” I could practically feel the agitation in Jane’s voice tick up. Dollars to donuts the beta’s scent would be going sharp. “This one’s bad.”
“Yeah? I assumed that’s why you called me. Not my first rodeo, Jane.”
“This is real bad. Maybe the worst I’ve ever seen.”
That gave me a moment of pause as I stood in the elevator. Jane Bartlett had been running the Hopkin’s Center abuse shelter for decades. I’d heard stories of the awful states some omegas had been in, mentally and physically when the shelter took them in. If this was among the worst someone like Jane had seen, and nobody could even get close… “Did you prime them at all?”
“Tossed that one huge hoodie of yours close as I could get and it’s still laying there on the ground. Maybe a little of your scent got wafted over?” All volunteers left a few blankets or comfortable articles of clothing with their scent on them for new arrivals. In some cases, ‘priming’ could help a distraught O be more quickly receptive to a foster when they arrived, or indicate which volunteer might be more successful interacting with someone. I generally left very soft hoodies of various sizes.
“Even as cold as it is they won’t touch it?”
“I told you it’s bad. Might need to put them under.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath as I walked across the parking garage. “You know I won’t if I have any other option.”
“That’s why I called you.”
“Okay. I’m in my car. Text me, and I’ll be there as soon as traffic allows.”
“See you soon.”
I texted my neighbor Yelena, telling her to enjoy the Chinese food on me because the shelter called, and pulled out of the garage and onto the street breathing deep to calm my nerves. I’d been volunteering as a foster or sponsor alpha at the shelter for a few years now for victims who would come in, or be brought in, under various states and types of duress. Some had been forced into primal-space so long they had trouble interacting socially at above an instinctual level, or coming up out of their primal at all. Some were so anxious or scared they were non-verbal or had trouble communicating at all. Some were Os, heated up on arrival looking for emergency shelter or after some time stabilizing, with care and therapy, went into a heat but were by no means capable or ready to do so with a partner.
That’s where fosters came in. Just the pheromones of a calm, stable alpha could help regulate someone stuck in their instincts or even ease an O in heat without a need for sexual touch. The fact that I was an exceedingly rare female alpha, and not a large person, also meant I was far less physically intimidating than most, which could be helpful when dealing with a person in mental crisis.
It was late enough at night that traffic wasn’t too much of a problem and about 20 minutes later I was pulling up near several police cars and a bright yellow SUV easily recognizable as Jane’s, even without the shelter logo on the side.
“Ma’am, please leave the area,” a uniformed officer ordered brusquely as I got out of my car. He was young, probably late-20s. I’d never seen him before.
I ignored him, walking around to the rear to pull a couple of snacks and a bottled water from the side pocket of my duffle and putting them in my jacket pockets. “Jane Bartlett called me. I work with the Hopkin’s Center.” I shut the door and started around the front of the car.
He bristled, blocking my path, his primal bristling, I assume at my nonchalance over his uniform. He was blocked up properly, so I couldn’t tell his flavor, though. The wind shifted a little and his nose wrinkled in distaste. “You got some ID?”
“Of course,” I smiled casually, ignoring what was probably his reaction to my unblocked scent, like the equivalent of going out commando and no bra. I wasn’t looking to make friction this early in the night when I’d likely find plenty later. I usually did when it came to cops. “Wallet’s in my pocket,” I said, telegraphing my reach into the breast pocket of my jacket for my wallet.
“Fuck sake, Carson, just let her through.” Another cop shouted back from the other side of the cars.
“Good evening, Lieutenant,” I waved with a grin, recognizing the voice.
“Yeah, yeah, Harmon. Get in there. I’d like to go home tonight,” he grumbled. He was upper middle aged, a few years older than me, gray nearly taken over his mustache. He was still pretty fit, just a little into his dad bod era, his broad shoulders a little hunched in his uniform coat like he was tired of being here already.
Officer Carson gave me another look, like he was trying to figure out how I rated the wave through. I understood his conundrum. I was short, more than a little curvy, chubby was more accurate, fat if you were being rude, and certainly didn’t look like anyone you’d send into a volatile situation, even if you caught my alpha scent. But he waved me by with a disgruntled look and I headed for Lieutenant Mattheson, watching me approach with an expression somehow half relief and half irritation.
“‘Bout time, Harmon.” Going straight for gruff didn’t bode well. Irritable on a good day, he wasn’t one of my favorite people to see on a scene that could use a light touch.
“Miss me, Bob?” I smiled winsomely.
“Not a bit,” he grunted testily, “but I’ll owe you a coffee if you can get me home before my wife throws my clothes on the lawn.” He started leading me across the pavement toward the opening of a shipping container.
“Made you work your anniversary again, huh?”
“Was about to be off shift when we got the call about a mysterious figure down here. Spotted busting crates open, we think looking for food. Dock workers thought it was a damn ghost or something. We eventually cornered him in a storage container. Lucky nobody–”
“Him?”
He shrugged. “Near as we can tell. Nobody’s got a good look at a face, can’t get close. Big, strong sumbitch though. Smells like soap’s never touched ‘em. Touched in the head, for sure, though. Primal is all messed up, can’t tell a designation, so we called Jane for a second opinion. And she called you, I guess.”
I frowned. “How the hell do you not know?”
“You’ll see in a minute, Matty.” I looked over to see Jane coming to meet us. She was several years older than me, locs streaked with silver. “You know it’s better to go in fresh. Don’t need the biases before your primals meet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, well what else can you tell me about our prickly ghost?”
“Not much, honestly,” she shrugged. “This is like nothing I’ve ever smelled. Maybe your A can make more sense of it than my beta nose.”
“Mine couldn’t,” Mattheson grumbled.
I didn’t deign to acknowledge the comment. A few days of de-escalation training didn’t equate to a Masters degree and years of training and specialty work with Hopkin’s Center on top of it that both Jane and I had.
“You’re not selling this for me, Jane.”
“Not trying to, Matty.”
I sighed, running my hand through my curls again with a soft groan, knowing the self-soothing gesture was probably just frizzing me up. “Fine.” I looked at the dark door of the shipping container, half the contents pulled out and stacked around it. One of the patrol cars had been brought closer to shine light inside as well. They weren’t kidding about the cornered assessment. “Wish me luck, I guess.”
I slowly made my way over, keeping my posture casual, my shoulders loose. The big, navy blue hoodie lay balled up on the floor several feet inside. I could hear a shuffling farther back as we approached. I stepped up in the doorway and the smell hit me like a punch in the gut. The unwashed smell of sweat and blood and filth, the sourness of a body long gone without basic care. That would have been enough without everything under it permeating the air, fainter than it seemed possible, but sharp and unmistakable.
Not fear, terror.
Not anger, rage.
Not hurt, suffering.
I felt my primal shift warily in my head, trying to sort the deeply wrong, acrid scent. I leaned down and picked up the hoodie and sensed movement farther back. “Hello there.” I said, voice soft. “I heard there’s been a little trouble out here tonight.” I pushed up my sleeves, exposing my wrists and started rubbing the cuffs of the hoodie over my secondary glands, exuding calm- safe- alpha- safe- protect- safe. “Was that you, friend?”
A low sound, not quite a growl, not quite a huff met my ears, hard to pinpoint in the metal box.
I brought the neck of the hoodie to my own neck, rubbing my scent stronger there. “It’s pretty cold tonight. I sent this for you in case you needed it.” I pulled the snacks from my pocket, a sunbutter granola bar and a big piece of beef jerky. I unwrapped them, took a small bite from each to prove it safe in hopes they were watching, and then folded and rolled the hoodie tight, snacks in the center of the roll. “I’m going to toss this to you, friend. You’re welcome to it. I have some water for you, too, but I don’t want to accidentally hit you in the head with it. Nobody’d ever say I have an arm for baseball.”
I lobbed the hoodie as far toward the back as I was able. It felt like my primal was straining through my eyes trying to see where it had landed between some crates.
I leaned against the wall of the crate to watch. It took a long time, but I think the smell of food was eventually more tempting and a hand reached out from behind a crate to touch the rolled hoodie tentatively, then snatched it back into the shadows. A few moments later I heard the distinct crunching of granola under quiet snuffling and growling.
“There you go, friend,” I crooned softly, edging a little closer along the wall. I kept my breath slow and even, thinking and pushing safe- alpha- calm- safe-, hoping the wind might shift and take some of my scent farther back. “I bet it’s gonna help having a little food in your belly.”
The minutes stretched and I edged a little closer, minute by minute as the sounds of chewing subsided until I could see the curve of a shoulder, the jut of a knee. I squatted several feet away, angled away rather than facing the figure head on. Look at the friendly alpha, not afraid and not paying so much attention to you. So calm, so safe, so chill.
I gave a signal toward the door as the time edged an hour and after a few moments the floodlight on the patrol car turned off. There was still plenty of light in the space, casting deep shadows behind every box and crate, but it was a little less aggressive on my face, still oriented toward the door.
“I have some water for you,” I kept my voice so soft and low, barely above a whisper, and the dark form still startled like I’d touched them. The flash of a pale face plastered with dark, stringy hair. Male, the scruff of several days worth of facial hair evident behind the greasy strands he peered through. I didn’t react, just kept talking. “If you want it.” I slowly pulled the bottle from my pocket. “I’m just gonna open it for you and show you it’s okay.” I cracked it open as the figure watched from the shadows intensely, but not moving. I brought the bottle to my lips and took a long swallow, letting him watch the bob of my throat. There was just a little less stress in the set of the shoulders now that he had a few calories in him, but I couldn’t get much of his scent under the miasma of body odor and fear.
“Not too cold.” I said, screwing the cap back on. “I’m going to roll it over to you, nice and easy.” I laid the bottle on its side and gave a push across the floor. “There you go, friend.” He snatched it immediately, all but tearing the cap off to bring it to his lips greedily. “Slowly, friend.” My voice was still quiet, but it was a firm instruction. His eyes snapped to me. “Don’t need you making yourself sick. No sense in losing that food you just got to eat. So go slow, okay?”
He peered at me for another long moment, but when he took another mouthful he paused to swirl it around his mouth before swallowing.
“Good.” The corner of my mouth pulled up in a small smile while I scented safe- good- alpha- pleased- safe. “That’s perfect.”
His body seemed to shrink in on itself, something too thin to even be a whine crawling up, barely audible in the quiet.
My primal, forever the protector type, went restless and I knew my scent went stronger, alpha- protect- safe- “Yeah… I hear you, friend. I’m here to help.” I just sat there quietly, waiting for him to reset. Minutes passed again before I quietly unzipped my jacket, despite the cold, letting more of my scent into the space, letting my lapels gently waft in his direction. So calm, alpha, pleased, so good, so safe.
That thin whine crawled up again, a deeply distressed, heartbreaking sound. The kind you feel in your gut and your brainstem, instinctual but bitten back in a wash of terror.
“I know… Oh, friend, I know.” I edged a little closer. “I’m gonna help, I promise. You’re safe now.”
He didn’t shrink back this time, just tensed a little. I eased my phone out of my back pocket. A little over an hour and a half I’d been in the container. It was good progress, but it wasn’t like I could just stop for a break. My knees were aching from squatting so long. I tapped out a quick message to Jane asking her to grab my duffle and backpack from my car. I knew I wasn’t going home tonight, one way or another. She didn’t answer, for fear of my phone startling him, but I saw her form move out of the stream of lights. Then I tucked my phone back in my pocket and settled back on my butt, fully sitting on the cold metal floor. It brought me even with him finally.
He was tensed again, but he didn’t actually shift away, just watched me intensely. I just sat there, side by side, but facing opposite directions. Look how non-threatening this alpha is, just sitting here giving you treats, humming softly and minding my business. We were about four feet apart, just far enough that one of us would have to lunge to be able to touch the other. We just sat there regarding each other, me from the corner of my eye, waiting for him to ease again.
He shifted to face me a little. Interest maybe, or just wary, it was so hard to tell exactly what his scent was doing with so much negative blending together.
“Hey, friend,” I said in soft greeting. His stare only got more keen, if anything. “My name is Mathilda Harmon.” I turned my face toward him just enough to see some of my smile. “You can call me Matty. All my friends do.”
He didn’t answer, hands flexing on my hoodie, clutched in his hands.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer, or tell me anything you don’t want to.”
He just stared, as though trying to figure out my game. I just sat exuding calm, good, safe. Then his attention shifted to the door and I looked to see Jane had dropped my gear in the doorway. “Oh, good. Jane brought my bag for me. I was getting a little chilly.” I offered him a reassuring smile. “I’m going to get us some things so we can be comfortable, and I’ll be right back. I have a feeling we’re going to be here awhile.” He looked a little lost as I did a silly little butt shimmy away before calmly getting back to my feet.
Then, I heard that mangled little whine again, thin and wavering. I knew it was unconscious, and that squeezed my heart in my chest as much as the sound itself.
“Shh…” I squatted back down. “My friend just brought my things. I have blankets and some more snacks and water, so we can be warm and more comfy. I’m just going to get them, and then we can be here as long as you need to feel safe.” I pushed safe, good, pleased, so safe, so good and got back to my feet. “You can watch me the whole way.” Then I got up, feeling his eyes burning a hole between my shoulder blades.
“What’s taking so damn long, Harmon?”
I ignored him as I walked up. “Thanks, Jane.”
Her nose wrinkled, but her eyes went a little glassy anyway. I knew the air had to be thick with my pheromones. “Not a problem. Hit a wall?”
I shook my head. “No, just baby steps.”
“You never take this long if you’re scenting like that.” Mattheson’s hand was covering his nose.
I kept ignoring him. “You were right, this is gonna be a tough nut to crack. I still can’t even tell his designation for sure with all the-” I waved my hand around trying to convey ‘the everything’. It’s… delicate. If I jump wrong and treat the situation wrong it could backfire.”
“So figure it out later,” he cut in again.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a fucking cop, Mattheson,” I muttered.
“Fuck sake, I don’t have time for your ACAB bullshit. Just put him down, Harmon.”
Now, I looked at him. “No.”
“What’d’you mean, ‘no’.”
“I thought that was pretty clear.” I retorted, voice level as I faced him fully. “I’m not moving him until he’s ready to follow me willingly.”
“Just fucking put him down, we’ll deal with it later.”
“The fuck I am, Mattheson.” My voice was calm, but my primal was bristling inside, hackles raising. “I’m not pinning him because you’re a dick and didn’t request off for your anniversary.”
“I’ll do it myself.” Even through his blockers, I could feel his primal coming up, his hand coming up to pull the scent blocker patch off the curve of his neck.
I fully blocked his path, primal bristling inside me in warning. “The fuck you will, Mattheson. Especially not by the time you get through me.”
Mattheson’s hand flew to his face again. “Jesus, you reek!” His primal was already paused, wary, if not yet ready to submit, at the wave of my own, already prowling close under my skin. “We’ve been here for hours, Harmon. I’m not going to tell my men they have to sit here in the cold and wait while you coax and coddle someone who put three of my men in the Urgent Care!”
“What the –” Jane gasped.
“Then, don’t,” I said, going cold at the realization. “Leave.”
“I’m not leaving you here with a violent criminal, Mathilda.”
I sneered. “Don’t pretend like this has anything to do with me when you didn’t even tell us he hurt anyone, Robert. You let me unknowingly walk in there alone in the first place, so you can take your sudden concern for my well-being and knot your ass with it.”
“He could get away,” he growled.
“Sounds like he’d be better off,” I said tersely.
“I’m not going to keep waiting for–”
“Then lock me in for the night.”
“Matty-”
I held my hand up to silence Jane. “If the ‘city’s finest’ don’t want to wait, fine. I have everything I need now. Lock me in with him for the night and call me in the morning whenever you wake up at your desk.”
He looked at me like my primal’s head had burst out beside my own. “You’re not serious.”
“The fuck I’m not.” I turned to grab my bag and Mattheson’s hand wrapped around my wrist, fingers pressing over my scent gland.
I spun on him, a vicious snarl tearing out of my throat, primal a sharp pressure behind my eyes.
He jerked away and back a step like I’d lunged straight at his throat, his primal shrinking with a snarl of its own. I could tell he was fighting tilting his head, resisting the urge to give me his neck. My primal huffed in disdain. “I told him he was safe and I wouldn’t make him move until he was ready to go with me and I will NOT break my word by pinning him like some unruly pup.” I squared on him, my voice going low and flat. “You can arrest us both. You can write this off. You can stay or leave. But we are not leaving this container unless it is together, Mattheson. It’s your choice how it happens.”
“Matty…”
I took a deep breath as the Lieutenant’s eyes shifted at Jane’s voice.
“Matty, look…” she repeated quietly.
I straightened with a deep breath and turned.
He was standing. Guarded, body tense, gloved hands ready, in a way that spoke of some kind of training, as did the black tactical pants and boots I could see now. But he was wearing my hoodie. Mattheson wasn’t kidding about him being big, holy shit. The hoodie was a 2XL, intentionally well-oversized for my plush curves and I knew the hem could be tucked under my butt. It fit him. Baggy on a build that seemed too small for his frame, but it fit through the shoulders and length. Rage, pain, fear.
“Well look at you…” I smiled warmly. “Hi, friend.” Pleased, good.
His eyes shifted under my gaze. Rage, pain, fear… interest?
“Are you checking on me, big guy?”
He tucked his head a little. Not quite a nod, but not a denial either.
“We’re ok.” I reassured him, scenting good, calm, safe. “Nobody is gonna make you do anything, and I’m not gonna leave you.”
I could feel Jane’s beta shiver a little behind me, Mattheson’s alpha bristling at my dismissal.
I took a little step closer. “Do you want to come with me to somewhere safe and warm, or should I stay here with you?”
He shifted on his feet, wary. Rage, pain, fear, exhaustion.
“Okay,” I said simply. I bent and picked up the duffle and slung the backpack over my shoulder. I pulled my phone from my pocket again. Then, I took a step back toward him and looked back over my shoulder. “He isn’t ready, and I’m fine with waiting until he is.” I leveled my gaze on Lieutenant Mattheson. “Shut the door, or don’t. Leave, or don’t. I don’t give a shit. But, I’m not leaving him alone, and I’m not taking his choice away.”
I turned back and he had taken another step forward. He looked at me through greasy dark strands of hair out from the navy hood pulled low around his face. Only his eyes, dark with his primal, only a thin ring of light iris left, remained clearly discernable. As I regarded him, trying to parse anything else from his buried scent, he stepped forward again. Pain, rage, fear, …good?
“Harmon.” Mattheson’s voice ground out in warning.
“No,” I repeated over my shoulder without taking my eyes off the man in front of me. Calm, alpha, safe, good.
He stepped forward again. Pain, fear, rage, good?
“Harmon, get out of the way.”
My eyes didn’t leave his face, his eyes not able to settle on my mine, but attentive. “Unless I believe he’s going to hurt someone, I won’t pin him.” Good, calm, so good, safe.
“Matty, don’t push this.” Jane said, starting to show her nerves.
“He doesn’t want to hurt me. I don’t think he wanted to hurt anyone.” His eyes finally snapped to mine. “Did you, friend?” It was a genuine question, not a prompt. I wanted to know how he’d react if I asked him.
He seemed some kind of surprised, though I wasn’t sure if it was because I genuinely asked, or because I might have assumed he didn’t mean me harm. Unsure, pain, fear, angry, exhausted, good?
I chuckled a little. “Fair enough.” Good, safe, so good.
He looked like he was starting to settle back into his body a little, though he remained deep in his primal.
“Do you want to come with me to somewhere safe?”
He gave a little huff and stepped forward again, just out of arm’s reach.
I grinned. “Okay, then.” I turned again and handed the backpack to Jane. “Go warm up the car? I’ll come back and pick up mine tomorrow.” She nodded, giving me a look of relief and turned to head back toward the cars.
“Here’s your chance to go home tonight.” I turned to meet Mattheson’s eyes, watching me like he’d never seen me before. “Are we going to have a problem, Bob?”
A growl settled low in the older man’s chest. “No.”
It was the answer that I wanted, so I soothed my primal down over the disrespect from someone it had made back down not ten minutes ago. “After you, Lieutenant.”
I glanced over my shoulder as I followed back toward the cars. He was following me warily, a few steps behind, eyes shifting over the scene, alert and tense. Jane pulled the shelter’s SUV up. I opened the side door and slid in, all the way across, settling my bags in the middle of the seat. He climbed in behind me with only a moment or so of hesitation, quickly shutting the door behind him. He was all but pressed to the door as Jane put the car back in gear and we started moving, watching me warily.
I put my seatbelt on and then settled back in the seat, one arm propped casually on the bags between us like an armrest. Good, calm, so good, so safe. I got out another granola bar and a bottle of water and offered them to him. After a small hesitation he snatched them without touching me and set upon them with a starving fervor.
About halfway to the shelter Jane spoke up again. “I’m gonna have to crack a window, Matty. You’re gonna put me under at this rate.”
I chuckled. “Sorry, Jane. Not trying to put anyone under here.” I must have been scenting even stronger than I thought if a bonded beta was feeling fuzzy enough to worry about driving.
“Hey, I get it,” she said as she hit the button on the door. Just enough to put the two of us in the back seat downwind of her.
“I can block up if you need me to. Got a patch in my bag.”
“Don’t bother. Gonna have to get the upholstery cleaned after this anyway.”
I blushed furiously. “Sorry…”
She shrugged. “Par for the course. Why do you think I bring you in for the tough cases?”
“Still, wasn’t trying to be rude.”
She chuckled. “We’re good, Matty. I know you don’t like the collateral.”
Jane had slowed to take a curve and faster than I could react the man beside me had opened the door, fisted a strap of each of my bags, and bailed out of the car like it was on fire.
“What the fuck?!” Jane whipped the car to the curb as I struggled out of my seatbelt, across the bench seat, and out the door after him.
“Wait! Please, don’t!” I shouted as I tripped out onto the sidewalk just in time to see my duffle vanish around a corner, faster than I could believe. We took off after him, but by the time we got to the corner, he was out of sight.
Only the scent trail remained, quickly fading in the night breeze, that my primal was keen to follow, pushing me to a run only to lose the trail a block away. “Please, come back!” I shouted into the night.
Jane sighed, hand coming to rest on my shoulder as I stood bent over trying to catch my breath.
My hands dug into my hair, nails against my scalp as I fisted double handfuls of my curls in frustration. “FUCK!”
“You know they bolt sometimes, Matty, and so do I.”
“I should have been paying closer attention. Fucking amateur hour.”
“Hey, it’s okay. My damn fault for not remembering to set the child locks, right?”
I groaned in frustration. “Are we gonna tell Mattheson we lost him already?”
“Hell no, girl. Fuck that.”
I couldn’t help but smirk at her as we headed back to the car. “Well, I guess I can’t say I didn’t help at all. He’s got both my work bag and my overnight bag.” Toiletries, a set of comfortable clothes (though they’d be short on him), scent block patches, a charger pack for my phone and the $50 I always kept for emergencies or cab fare after I’d had my wallet stolen by a different runaway. The work bag had another oversize set of sweats, blankets, a fair assortment of easy snacks and bottled water, as well as a few other things that might be handy when taking care of a primal in need of comfort.
“Yeah, at least he can get cleaned up somewhere.” She slid back into the driver’s seat while I stood out in the night air a few minutes longer.
My primal felt like it was pacing inside my skin, pushing behind my eyes. It didn’t like that he ran, didn’t like that we didn’t chase, didn’t like that we didn’t pin Mattheson, didn’t like that we hadn’t fixed anything in a way it could understand. I unzipped my coat, flapping the lapels to air out as much as I could, breathing deep, pushing my primal back down so I didn’t reek so bad, since I didn’t have any scent blockers now.
“Come on, Matty. I’ll be okay. Not like I haven’t smelled you all night.”
I sighed, zipping up my coat again with a shiver. “Sorry.”
“I told you it’s fine. I know you don’t like collateral and it’s not your fault you had to come out unblocked or go that big.”
I slid in the passenger seat and closed the door behind me.
“Want me to take you back to your car?”
I shook my head. “Cops are probably still there, and like hell I’m eating that crow tonight after this.”
“Hey,” Jane reached over and put her hand on my shoulder again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know you were still paying attention. Guy was just fast as hell. We weren't even at a stop. No way to predict a move like that.” I rolled my head to look at her and she was giving me a reassuring smile. “You did a good job tonight. Worst I’ve seen in a long time, and you got him moving. Even I really thought you would eventually have to put him under.”
I sighed as she pulled away from the curb. “You know I hate doing that. Takes ten times as long to get anywhere near trust if you’re heavy handed out of the gate. Might never take at all.”
“I know. The patience on you, though, girl. Your alpha is made for this, I swear.”
My primal preened under the words and I rolled my eyes. It also didn’t hurt that I wrangled heated up Os and touch-hungry primals for a living. Not everyone was interested in mating or pack life for many a reason. Unfortunately, biology is a bitch and a heat doesn’t much care about whether you actually yearn for the family life.
I huffed out a laugh. “Practice.”
She matched my chuff, knowing what I meant. “I guess so. Never get over you bringing me like 20 references. It was wild.” Though Jane knew at this point, I wasn’t generally out about my occupation as a “comfort alpha”. It was rare, and most people (including the law) viewed it as sex work, which wasn’t entirely accurate. Sure, some clients were Os and sometimes regulars came to me to help ease their heat when needed, but even then I mostly just offered support and intimacy safely, on their terms. No claims, and with exceedingly few well-negotiated exceptions, no marks or knots.
It was an arrangement that worked well for me, not being particularly interested in bonding myself. I had several regular clients and they ran the spectrum of designations, as well as quite a few more occasional ones that kept me fairly busy. Which meant I had a lot of references when I decided to volunteer to help out at the shelter, ready to vouch I was safe, stable, and consent royalty who could handle intense situations, even when hormones ran high.
“So, where can I take you, if not your car?”
I had to think about it for a minute. I really did. Part of me wanted comfort. Someone to cuddle up with after feeling like a failure. Just one someone really, and I knew he’d welcome me without hesitation. “Just take me home. I’ll grab a cab out to get my car before my lunch appointment tomorrow.”
“You sure? I just don’t want you to spend the night alone if you could maybe use some support after all that.”
I knew I probably had a drop coming after letting my primal out so much, and then leaving it so frustrated. But it was also after midnight. I was tired, and didn’t want to disturb anyone. “Nah, I’ll be okay. I’ll text some people and I think I have something scented from one of my regulars tucked away. Just wanna sleep.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t happy about it, but she dropped it and drove me home in a companionable quiet. When we got back to my building, she offered me a hug but I just leaned over the console to press my shoulder against hers, not trusting myself or my primal to behave at the moment.
There was a note on the door from my neighbor Yelena, thanking me for dinner. She said she owed me a movie night soon, and that she would be deploying in a couple of weeks so she wanted to talk about watering her plants. I smiled and shot her a text saying I’d just gotten in and asking if she wanted to pop over for coffee in the morning and give me details.
I felt the drop hitting even as I closed the apartment door behind me. My big orange tabby met me at the door with a meow and a 25lb hip check that could take you out at the knees if you weren’t paying attention. “Hello, Sir Thomas.” I bent to offer the requisite pets before moving farther into the apartment.
I threw everything I was wearing in the washing machine with enzymatic detergent and then went to shower, scrubbing myself down well with a pheromone cutting soap and shampoo while I tried not to think about the disturbing scent of the man and how it permeated my clothes and I could find it in my hair even though I hadn’t touched him. Then I slapped a patch over one of my neck glands. I didn’t generally wear them at home, they could be irritating to the skin and cause blockages if worn constantly, but I needed to get my own raging scent under control if I expected to meet anyone in public tomorrow.
By the time I was done moving clothes from the washer to the dryer, with a special dryer sheet, I was fighting back tears. I went digging in the closet. It wasn’t often I needed a comfort item myself, rarely feeling touch starved or majorly off-kilter due to my job, but I occasionally asked a long-term client or close friend for something to help just in case I hit a drop like this.
Me: Do I still have that maroon robe?
Stevie😻: Hey beautiful! 😚
Stevie😻: The monogrammed one? As far as I know.
He rang my phone then, but I declined it as my search felt more frantic and the tears started.
Stevie😻: You’re up late. Are you okay?
Me: Jane called me in. Dicey police interaction. Rough night.
Stevie😻: Would you like to come over?
Fuck, yes. Yeah, I would. Even my primal perked a little at the idea of curling up with Steve’s as a fine tremble settled over me like an adrenaline letdown.
Me: My car is down at the docks.
Stevie😻: I can come over there instead if you want. Take you out to pick it up in the morning.
Me: I’ll be okay, just having a little drop.
Stevie😻: You sure? No trouble.
Me: The place reeks, I probably still reek even after a shower and a patch. Need to crack a window. Probably need to go back out and take an air freshener to the hallway before I crash for the night, so I don’t offend the neighbors.
Stevie😻: I’m sure you don’t reek. You never actually stink.
Me: Jane had to crack a car window because she thought she was gonna go under.
Stevie😻: That’s not stink, beautiful. That’s scenting too good. 🫠 Like you always do.
Stevie😻: But yeah. Wow. Sounds like a rough case for sure. If you’re worried about my primal you know I can handle it if my best girl needs me.
I knew that. That’s why I’d taken him as a client in the first place. Alpha attracted alphas were a little more common than either female alphas or male omegas, but also more social taboo than biological oddity. It was somehow more socially acceptable nowadays to be same sex attracted than same designation attracted (except betas which was a whole other thing). Mostly it was treated like a nasty fetish people didn’t talk about, even by said alphas. Which was generally why I didn’t take them on.
Steve didn’t look at me like a fetish. He was earnest to a fault, deeply respectful, and he handled his alpha better than most men I’d ever met. He’d probably be a good volunteer himself if he had the time. And that’s a big part of why he wasn’t a client anymore.
Me: Thanks handsome. I’ll be okay. Just need some sleep.
Stevie😻: At least tell me Thomas the Alley Cat is making sure his mama is well cuddled.
Me: I found it!
Stevie😻: Good! You sure? I’ll be there in a heartbeat if you want me.
Me: You’re so sweet. 🥰
Goddammit why did he have to be so good to me? My alpha rumbled in my chest as I slipped the soft, dark red terry robe on, burying my nose in the lapels before I even bothered to tie it. It was one of the few wearable things he owned that I could have stolen at all, and even it barely fit around me.
Stevie😻: You know I’m gonna worry about you now.
Me: I’m afraid it’s me that might be too prickly tonight. I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow.
Stevie😻: Okay. Don’t make me come find you. 😏
Me: I promise I’ll be there. Cora’s at noon per usual?
Stevie😻: Of course. Need my weekly apple pie fix.
Me: 👍Sir Thomas has taken his customary post, covering my entire torso. goodnight 😘
Stevie😻: Jealous 😏 goodnight 🥰Leaving my ringer on if you change your mind.