Coming Full Circle

by Kian Rhodes

  “Oh, well, I’m afraid there is,” she mumbled. “I, ah, can ask my supervisor if there’s any way we can make an exception, but that won’t be in time for tonight’s auction.”

  I played up the disappointment as far as I dared. “But for the next one? Could you try by then?”

  Beatrice nodded and, under her oh-so-proper mask, I was sure I saw a glint in her eyes. “I’ll let you know, either way,” she promised.

  And we had her. All that was left was to wait.

  Chapter Six

  Casen

  Rafael and Colby made use of the time we waited to fill me in on the specific details of my part in their plot. If all went well, they expected me to be under the control of the auction house for less than forty-eight hours, and they stressed again that they would have eyes on me the entire time. I was about to ask how that would work when a faint knock came at the door.

  I opened it to find an Omega that seemed vaguely familiar, though I didn’t actually know him and an old wolf shifter, bent over with age and leaning heavily on an ornately carved rosewood cane.

  “This him?” the old man snapped at no one in particular as he tugged his thick black glasses down to stare at me over top of them. “This the ‘mega that stole all my money?”

  “That’s him, Grandpa,” the Omega said, rolling his eyes. He turned to face me. “I’m Quinn and this curmudgeon is Ernie.” Quinn snickered. “Ernie insisted he has to stay in character to pull this off.”

  Colby snorted. “Nifty. Do you need a minute?”

  I shook my head. “Naw, I think we’ve got it,” I said, my voice steadier than I actually felt. “I tricked him into claiming me and helped myself to his pension, right?”

  “No claim,” Rafe said quickly. “They’d have to get a shaman in to break it and that takes time. I told them you tricked him into agreeing to claim you, but he came to his senses just in time.”

  The old codger nodded, proving he was plenty sharp. “Probably help if you tried to sweet talk me out of it, I’d guess.”

  “Makes sense,” I agreed, blinking my eyes until they began to tear.

  “You okay?” Rafe seemed confused.

  “Mascara,” I explained, rubbing my eyes to smear the wet makeup. “If my sugar daddy was really kicking me to the curb, my face would be a mess from crying.”

  Rafe and Colby both nodded approvingly.

  “Good attention to detail,” Ernie said with a grin. “Yes, sir, I think this one will do just fine.” He held one hand out to me, but I shook my head.

  “We need a few bruises,” I suggested. “Something to make it look like I was dragged against my will.” I raised a brow to my temporary Alpha. “Maybe on my upper arm.”

  The old man’s brow wrinkled. He clearly didn’t like the idea of marking up an Omega. “It’s okay, hon. It won’t really hurt me,” I cajoled. When Colby took a step forward, I shook my head. “Your fingers are too big, man. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right.”

  “Fine,” Ernie sighed, reaching out to grab my upper arm. “Sorry, kiddo,” he apologized as his fingers bit into my flesh. Old or not, there was nothing weak about him and it was only a minute before my skin began to bloom the bright red that would quickly fade into blue and purple.

  “Nice,” I said, wincing a little as I rubbed my arm. “That should be convincing.” I looked around at the small group. “If we’re doing this, we may as well do it now.”

  The drive to the auction house took less than twenty minutes and then I was dragged up to the door marked intake by the old man. He rang the bell and then..nothing.

  “Dammit, Rafael!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I thought you made an appointment?”

  I couldn’t hear the response, obviously, since it came through the earbud disguised as a hearing aid, but Ernie’s huff indicated that Rafael had applied in the affirmative. He leaned forward and rapped sharply on the door, then gave it a kick for good measure that nearly sent him tumbling off the porch.

  He’d barely steadied himself when the door flew open, framing an older woman with unnaturally red hair in the opening.

  “Hello? Can I help you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  “I have an appointment to unload this bothersome bit of baggage,” Ernie said irritably.

  “Oh, dear,” the woman said with a frown. “Yes, of course. Unfortunately, we only do intake for the auctions on certain days, but, well, when you told me of the trials you were enduring, I simply had to help you.” She stepped to the side and gestured for Ernie to, ahem, escort me inside.

  “Please, have a seat,” she offered, waving toward a long, low sofa against the wall of what seemed to be a reception area. “Honestly, based on what you told me on the phone,” she began, giving me the stink eye, “I’m not sure that the auction is really the best method of, well, disposing of your problem.”

  Ernie began to bluster and she smiled sympathetically. “I understand,” she assured him. “I really do, but the Alphas who come to the auction are looking for, well, a certain type of Omega. Younger than this and more biddable than you described on the phone.” This time the look she threw me was plainly dismissive. “There is another option, though.”

  “I’m listening,” Ernie huffed, narrowing his eyes.

  “Well, as I explained on the phone, when you sell your Omega at auction, you aren’t paid until the sale is finalized,” she said smoothly. “In a case of an, well, older Omega with less to, ahem, recommend them, we can sometimes have better luck by simply purchasing them outright and then selling them on the private market.” She smirked. “You would get your money today and be done with him.”

  Ernie narrowed his eyes more. “What’s that going to cost me?”

  “What?”

  “Anytime someone offers me the easy way out and cash in hand, there’s a catch,” Ernie said bluntly.

  “Oh, well, not in this case,” she twittered, patting her stiffly sprayed hair nervously. “We would pay you the opening bid price – ten thousand dollars, cash – today and you would sign him over to us. Easy-peasy.”

  “All right, then,” Ernie agreed hesitantly. “I imagine that’ll work fine.” He patted my shoulder, probably a little more gently than he should have, given the situation and his parting words assured me that Rafael had approved the deviation from the plan. “Everything is going to be fine, son.”

  Ernie waited while the woman retrieved a thick envelope from the top drawer in the table by the door. Then he counted the money slowly, I assumed giving the surveillance team time to settle into their hidey-holes, before walking out the door. The redhead closed it behind him, flipping the lock. She never even looked at me as she pushed a button on the intercom.

  “Darren, get up here,” she growled, all of the meekness gone from her voice.

  When a man in a security guard’s uniform walked in, he bowed his head and waited. When she finally spoke, my blood ran cold.

  “Get that one disinfected and ready to go,” she ordered, jerking her head in my direction. “No need to do any testing. He’s going out immediately in the special shipment.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ralph

  Rafe had texted me as soon as he’d confirmed the planted Omega had been accepted by the auction house, so I wasn’t even remotely surprised when my disposable cell phone rang and the Caller ID showed a backline that our intelligence file had identified as belonging to the auction house. Swiping open the app that would record the entire call, I pressed the small green button.

  “Hello?” I tried to balance my tone somewhere between curious and bored as I answered. After all, as far as they knew, it was an anonymous line.

  “Alpha Sorden?”

  “This is he,” I huffed. “What can I do for you?”

  “This is Ms. Daulton, from the Omega Auction House. Is this a bad time?”

  “Oh, no. Absolutely not,” I assured her, sending all the warmth I could manage into my words. “Is there news on my applic
ation?”

  “There is,” she confirmed. “I’d, ah, really rather discuss it in person, if that’s possible?”

  “Certainly,” I agreed immediately. “When?”

  “Can you meet in an hour?” she suggested.

  I grinned. Rafe and Colby really had her pegged. “At the auction house?” I asked.

  “Oh, well, no,” she hedged. “You recall that I told you my boss was going to have to approve any exceptions?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, he’d like to meet you in person,” she explained. “His office is at another facility.” She reeled off an address that sounded vaguely familiar.

  I scribbled it down on the pad that lived on the coffee table and then read it back to her. “Terrific. I’ll be there.”

  “One more thing,” the hesitancy was gone from her voice. “You need to come alone. I’m sure you understand that making exceptions like this could cause unwelcome complications, if word got out.”

  “Of course,” I agreed promptly. “I’ll come alone and won’t tell a soul.”

  “Good. We’ll see you then.” Then, the line went dead.

  Dropping the burner phone, I pulled my regular smartphone out and dashed off a text to Rafe.

  Got the call. Recording should be on the cloud. Meeting in an hour. Address in the recording.

  My phone screen flashed almost immediately with a thumbs-up emoji followed by a warning to stay safe. I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone onto the table next to the burner. An hour gave me just enough time for a quick shower before I needed to leave.

  ***

  I was almost to the designated meeting place when I realized why the address had seemed familiar. It was the abandoned house of horrors known as the Verlorene Hoffnung Rehoming Center.

  Well, it was supposed to be abandoned, anyway.

  And from the road, it looked like it was.

  The crime scene tape had long since been removed, but the building was dark, without a light showing anywhere, and the moonlight barely showed the branches that had fallen in the recent storms and still littered the winding drive that led to the entrance.

  I let my borrowed car - an old beater that was cobbled together from so many cars that you couldn’t be certain of the color or model – slow until it was barely creeping along. When the door swung open, I was startled by a beam of bright light shining out onto the porch. Still the windows remained dark.

  “Blackout shades,” I snorted and made a mental note to check with Rafe about when the last time we’d checked the place out was. Pulling up the circular drive, I coasted to a stop and killed the engine.

  “Oh, good,” I called out cheerfully to the person on the porch. “I was afraid it was the wrong place.” With the light behind them, I could only see a shadow, but was assuming it was Beatrice the Beta.

  I was wrong.

  “Driver’s license?” the annoyed-looking security guard snapped, holding out his hand.

  I pulled my wallet from my pocket, but instead of waiting for me to hand him the card, he snatched the wallet from my fingers and nodded for me to walk in front of him. “This way.”

  “You want to give that back, sport?” I huffed.

  “Not yet,” he snapped, placing his palm against the small of my back and shoving hard enough to make me stumble. “Get moving.”

  We walked through a jumble of hallways, he paused his pawing through my wallet to indicate the turns by grunting and jabbing my shoulder blades until the hall dead-ended.

  “Sit in there,” the guard grunted, nodding to the closed door. “Boss will be with you in a minute.”

  “My wallet?” I asked, a wave of unease washing over me.

  Wordlessly, he shoved it at me and dropped his hand to his hip, over his gun.

  Slipping it back into my hip pocket, I walked through the door he’d indicated, stiffening when it slammed shut behind me.

  The room was small, more like a cell, and lined with an odd black plexiglass-type material. There was no furniture and the concrete floor was bare. As I was taking in my surroundings, a pale blue fog began to creep in from the vent in the ceiling.

  A tug on the doorknob confirmed I was locked in. No surprise there.

  I pulled my cell phone out and groaned.

  No signal.

  Freaking nifty.

  My last thought as the fog knocked me out was that if I lived through it, I was never going to live this down.

  Chapter Eight

  Rafe

  “You got a sec?”

  Colby was standing in my open office doorway, a small handheld tracker in his hand and his brow deeply furrowed with concern.

  “For you? Always.” When my standard response failed to coax the usual responding eye roll from my frowning mate, I cocked a brow. “What’s wrong?”

  When Colby stepped inside and pushed the door closed, my second brow joined the first. “Colby? Talk to me.”

  “I’m going to,” he huffed out, his frustration apparent. He shoved the small screen at me. “What should you see?”

  “Well, transponders for all of the teams, I assume,” I said slowly. “Right?”

  Colby nodded. “What do you see?”

  Ah. I suddenly caught his drift.

  “Are some of the chips not connecting?” The multitracker system was new, and had cost the COPSD a small fortune, so I could understand why that was an issue, but he still seemed a little overly intense about it. That left me with two options: ask what I was missing or tell him he was overreacting. Since my carrier hadn’t raised any fools, I went with the former. “What am I missing?”

  Colby growled, his lips drawing back and showing his gums. “They were connected, dammit! All of them!” Colby drew in a deep breath and I could see him struggling for control. “The two that are missing, Alpha, are Ralph and Casen.”

  “Motherfucker!” I hissed, embracing the wave of anger that rushed over me. “When did we lose them?”

  Calmer now that he’d gotten my attention, Colby ground his teeth but answered. “Ralph’s went dead thirty minutes ago, but I assumed it was a glitch. Until I tried him on his cell and it connected straight to voicemail.”

  “You texted him when it went dead?” The are you serious look Colby shot me made me raise my hands. “You know I have to ask.”

  “Of course, I did,” he snapped. “It was undeliverable.”

  Fucking fuck! I forced myself to stay calm. “What about Casen?”

  “The recon detail outside the auction house said he was bundled into a beat-up yellow Hummer and driven away.” He snarled in frustration. “They weren’t worried about losing him, because his tracker was showing on their receiver. Until five minutes ago, anyway,” the edge in Colby’s voice told me everything about his current mindset. He was pissed that his plan had gone awry, yeah, but he was also fucking terrified for the safety of our boss and the Omega we’d sent in undercover. “When his tracker went dead, they floored it, but the Hummer was nowhere to be seen.”

  Shoving the papers I’d been working on aside, I stood and wrapped one hand around the back of my Omega’s head, pulling him close for a hard, demanding kiss. “This isn’t your fault, Colby. You know that. Shit goes sideways. We’ll get them out.”

  When I released him, Colby nodded, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. “What now?”

  “Panicking isn’t going to help.” I reached for the cell phone lying dark on my desk. “I’m going to hit Connor up. See what he knows.” I stopped when I saw a guilty wince cross Colby’s face. “What?”

  “I, ah, already called him in,” Colby admitted with a shrug. “Lachlan, too.”

  “Of course, you did,” I snickered, winking at him. “ETA?”

  “Both said they were only a few minutes out. They should be here any time.”

  “Or maybe now,” a new voice joined as Connor strode in, Lachlan at his hip.

  “Great timing,” I said, holding back a relieved sigh. “You know why you’re here?”


  They both shook their heads and Lachlan added, “Colby just said you needed us ASAP.”

  “Have a seat,” I suggested. When they’d settled into the wooden chairs across from me, I got straight to the point. “We started the sting on the Omega Auction House earlier tonight.” They both nodded so I continued. “We’ve already lost contact with both of our undercovers.”

  Lachlan’s eyes widened as he caught the implication immediately, but Connor looked confused, so I elaborated. “Ralph received the expected call to set up the underground purchase of the Omega and they directed him to a meeting at the abandoned Verlorene Hoffnung Rehoming Center. We had his tracker until just after he arrived, but then it went dead.”

  “Shit.” Connor was frowning. “I never saw anything.”

  “Exactly. Then, the Omega that we sent in undercover was suddenly spirited away in the middle of the night. The recon team was tracking them, but his signal suddenly went dark, as well. They’re searching the area as discreetly as possible, but, so far, no sign of him or the Hummer he was taken off in.”

  I’d barely finished talking when Lachlan removed the rubber-lined dog tags from around his neck and slipped them into his pocket. “I’m ready.”

  I nodded, unsurprised.

  Of course, he was. In addition to being one of the toughest bastards I knew, Lachlan was also a reconnaissance expert whose dress blues carried a staggering array of medals earned in the service of his country. In a case like this, I had more faith in his skills than in my own, and I’m hardly wet behind the ears.

  Connor, on the other hand, was young and new to the entire situation. That was actually why we had assigned him to keep an eye on the Verlorene Hoffnung Rehoming Center grounds when we were divvying up jobs for this strike – it was supposed to be abandoned.

  When Lachlan twitched his brow in Connor’s direction, I knew he was thinking the same thing.

  “Those bastards fucked Devlin up just as badly as any of the others,” Connor said firmly, his eyes darting between us. “Maybe worse. You’re not leaving me out of this.”

  Apparently, we weren’t as smooth as we thought.

  Lachlan’s exhalation wouldn’t be obvious as a sigh to many, but, again, he and I had history. “Okay, kid,” he agreed, his smooth voice low, “but this is my game and I call the plays, got it?”