Omega (37 page)

W
ill blinked at the ceiling. As many meetings as the Penton lieutenants had held in this office, how had he never noticed the elaborate crown molding before? Dentil, that was the pattern. He sure had spent a lot of the last couple of weeks lying on his back, staring at ceilings.

The rest of the room came into focus, and he shook away the cobwebs. He had to see about Randa. She was hurt.

Climbing to his feet, he was distracted by the bullet wound in his chest. His father had freaking shot him. Since Will was standing here, Matthias must’ve missed the heart, but it hurt like a son of a bitch. He’d bet his next Robin Hood stash the bullet was silver.

Trying to press the wound closed with his fingers, Will finally raised his head to a sight so bizarre he had to be hallucinating. Maybe the bullet had hit his brain.

Matthias stood behind the big wooden desk, Randa sat against a potted plant cradling her arm and smiling, and in the doorway stood at least five guys in fatigues, holding rifles and
looking as serious as death itself. Four of them were human; the fifth was Cage Reynolds.

In front of them was the strangest sight of all: Frank fucking Greisser, who Will knew only because he’d seen a photo of the guy shaking hands with his father. Now he was in the office of the Penton clinic, standing shoulder to shoulder with Colonel Rick Thomas.

They’d done it. They’d fucking done it. If he hadn’t feared something would fall out of his chest, Will would have done a celebration dance.

If Matthias thought the sight strange, his face didn’t show it. “Frank, not that I’m not pleased to see you, of course, but what’s going on? What are you doing with human soldiers as your bodyguards? And Mr. Reynolds, of course.”

Greisser stepped around the desk and stood next to Matthias, his voice low, hard, and probably unintelligible to the humans. Will could hear him just fine. “You arrogant bastard. You didn’t even try to cover your tracks. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

Matthias still hadn’t gotten it, but understanding began to dawn when Aidan and Mirren eased through the line of soldiers, both wearing shoulder holsters with those big-ass Smith & Wessons they liked so much.

“Frank, I demand to know what’s happening. These men should be disarmed and put under arrest.” Matthias blustered and puffed out his chest in indignation, but his eyes darted from Aidan to Mirren and back to Frank.

Greisser unfolded a paper and began reading. It was a formal piece of bureaucratic tripe, but it was the nicest bit of tripe Will had ever heard.

“
Matthias, I have been charged by majority vote of the Vampire Tribunal to strip you of your seat on the Tribunal as chief counsel and head of the Justice Council. I’m also to inform you that you’re to be taken into immediate custody and will be duly judged in Tribunal court within thirty days. This is witnessed by both myself, representing the Tribunal, and Colonel Richard Thomas, representing a new human-Tribunal partnership known as Omega Force.
”

“You fools. You’ve brought humans into our business?” Matthias reached for the spot at the edge of the desk where his pistol had fallen, but Mirren was too fast. He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed Matthias’s wrist, and twisted it behind his back. The click of silver cuffs was like a choir of angels.

“What am I being charged with? This is preposterous! William, you’re behind this, you ingrate, you stupid…Do you know my brilliant son can’t even read a comic book? A dullard and his farmer friend and a professional murderer—these are the people you’re listening to, Frank?”

“May I?” Will held out his hand to Frank Greisser, who raised an eyebrow and handed him the paper.

He could read this just fine. “
You are hereby charged with kidnapping, murder by contract, and abuse of office, with additional charges pending.
” Will tossed the sheet of paper on the desk and crossed the room to where Randa had gotten to her feet. He had nothing else to say.

Together, they walked toward the door, Randa holding her broken arm and Will with blood running down his chest and pooling at the waist of his pants.

Colonel Thomas gave him a solemn nod as they passed.

With an hour to spare before dawn, Will and Randa lay squeezed against each other in their twin bed in Omega. Krys had treated Will at the clinic, removing the silver bullet and packing the wound to hold it until daysleep. She’d offered him a bison-sized dose of morphine, but this time he’d passed. Randa’s arm was a clean break, so Krys had set it and put it in a cast.

“Think my dad’s enjoying his locked suite in the clinic subbasement?” Will nudged her with his shoulder.

She grinned. “With Mirren sitting outside his door, daring him to try and escape? Oh yeah, I bet he’s enjoying it plenty.”

Will didn’t know how long it would take them to rebuild Penton, but he’d already envisioned the training facility he’d design at the site of the old community center. A state-of-the-art place for Omega Force to work. He’d build a restaurant for Glory and replace the damaged clinic with a new one for Krys to work in.

Randa nudged his shoulder this time. “Will, let me ask you something.”

“Yes, I’ll buy you some new granny panties.”

“Stop it. I’m serious.”

He sighed. He was so damned tired of serious. He just wanted a daysleep where rats wouldn’t gnaw on him. “OK, spill it.”

“I was thinking tonight how it would have been nice if we could communicate mentally. You know, so we could talk to each other in tight spots. It would be really helpful to us when we’re working with Omega Force.”

Krys had ordered him to stay on his back, but he rolled over and groaned as he propped on one elbow and tried to keep from slipping off the narrow bed. “To do that, we’d need to be mated.”

She flicked a glance his way, then returned her gaze to the ceiling. “I know.”

He tried to keep the smile off his face, but his mouth just kept going there. “We’d have to have a blood exchange.”

She waved her arm in its cast. “Yeah, we’d have to do that.”

“And we’d have to have sex at the same time.”

Randa sighed, but her smile kept trying to break out too. “I think I could make the sacrifice. Just to make us more effective in Omega Force, of course.”

Will leaned over and took a nip at her earlobe. “Of course. Kind of like a business deal.”

“Exactly.”

“When would you like to do this business deal?” He figured they had thirty minutes left, max.

“Tomorrow, I think. Since you’re injured, you know. I wouldn’t want to worry about your stamina.”

He leaned over and kissed her, long and hard, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest and the fact she’d accidentally beaned him in the head with her cast.

He rolled onto his back and nudged her shoulder again. “Yeah, tomorrow. And I’ll show you stamina.”

A
s always, thanks to editor Eleni Caminis and the Montlake team for letting the Penton crew find life on the printed page. To Marlene Stringer, simply the Best Agent Ever. To editor Melody Guy, for smoothing out the wrinkles. To Dianne, for being my alpha reader even though she really doesn’t read this genre—really. To Debbie, for being alpha-deux, even though she has horribly miscast Mirren. And to the rest of my Sisterhood of the Traveling Snark (Stella, Lauri, Amanda, and Lora) and the Auburn Writers Circle (Larry, Pete, Julia, Mike, Shawn, and Robin) for your unending support and encouragement.

Susannah Sandlin is a sixth-generation Alabamian with roots buried deep in Scotland, Northern Ireland, and the piney woods of Marion County, Alabama. She speaks French badly, adores Middle Eastern food, and still considers her longtime residence of New Orleans the hometown of her heart. A recently uncloseted fan of reality television, she’s in search of her perfect mate: all gator-hunting ice-road truckers need apply. Find her online at
www.susannahsandlin.com
.
Omega
is the third installment of her sensual and thrilling Penton Legacy series.