The Omega Objection

by G. L. Carriger

  Tank took a deep breath and nodded.

  “I’m done playing. You’re mine.”

  Tank nodded again.

  “On your knees, head down.”

  Tank scrambled to do as ordered.

  “Wider.”

  Tank widened his legs.

  The toy was tugged out of his ass and Isaac’s cock was in its place, silken and hot. Everything snapped back into perfect rightness.

  “Move for me,” his mate instructed. “Do the work.”

  Tank moved, angling his hips for the smoothest glide, not to peg his own prostate. He searched for the motion that pleased Isaac best. That caused his mate’s hands to fist iron-hard around Tank’s hips. Isaac made truly glorious needy groans.

  Soon enough neither of them could stand it any longer and Isaac took over. Driving into him. Words like mine and mate and more spilled from Isaac’s lips. Tank writhed under them as if he were being barbed by hope.

  Isaac bent forward, full contact while pounding into him. His mate’s teeth were in Tank’s neck, against his back, around his shoulder. Love bites, but hard and sharp – marking him. The physical memory of mine and mate and more.

  Tank soared to that place where nothing was required of him but Isaac’s needs. Simple. Beautiful. Beyond. He would spin free of the earth and drift, except for Isaac’s weight on him, his hot cock inside him, anchoring him and spearing him with joy. And he was providing the same back, giving of himself in foundation and belonging and love. Tethered and mated and right.

  So that mine met yours, and mate met yes, and more met forever.

  * * *

  Isaac admitted, to himself only, at being overwhelmed by the sheer number of people Marvin had managed to corral into welcoming him to the neighborhood.

  By the time he and Tank made it downstairs, the barbecue was in full swing. There were tons of guests. They were loud and laughed a lot.

  The whole pack was there, of course, but also assorted unexpected elements. The two trappers were a surprise. They looked uncomfortable and faintly overwhelmed. He wondered why they’d lingered in the area so long.

  He saw Gladdy and Chrys trailing a whole collective of assorted humans and other shifters that he assumed must be friends and lovers, or more likely both.

  Mana was there, keeping a close eye on Lovejoy, who basked in her attention.

  Tank kept close to Isaac, on the auspices of explaining who everyone was, but really Isaac just wanted him near.

  “Well, look who finally left his room!” Kevin came swaggering over, cheeky and full of cheer. “Man, what’d you do, Isaac? Use a crowbar?”

  Isaac arched a brow at the redhead. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Oh?”

  “You really don’t want the details.”

  “I don’t? Oh. Oh! Yeah, no thanks. Lots of that going on these days. Oooo!” He spotted something leggy and curvy and went off in pursuit.

  “Isaac, darling!” Lavish came swaying over on ridiculous heels for an outside event and wearing a fur coat, which among shifters was a bit of a faux pas.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Isaac was pleased to see her. He hadn’t since their girly fest at the fancy hotel. It seemed a long time ago now.

  Xavier he’d seen at work last night, of course. His boss took in the massive yard and huge house with professional interest. “Tight place, man.”

  Isaac actually looked around, seeing the property through the eyes of a stranger. The house was impressive – big and barnlike and looming. The yard was full of old oak trees and shrubs, more wild than carefully tended, but still welcoming. The fire pit was flaming merrily, surrounded by benches and camping chairs. Someone had put out folding tables which were covered in food. It was homey.

  Gladdy came bouncing over. “Isaac, you’ll never guess what I did at work on Friday!”

  Isaac smiled down at her. “No, I won’t. Gladdy, do you know Xavier and Lavish?”

  The little kitsune turned and pounced. She tugged Lavish’s hand until the statuesque woman bent so Gladdy could smack her on the lips. Before he could protest, Gladdy did it to Xavier too. Apparently tattoos, a fierce expression, and a dangerous attitude had no effect on kitsune.

  “Now, where was I?”

  Isaac felt Tank wind long arms about his waist and lean his chin on his shoulder. Isaac sighed and relaxed back against him. Oddly, he did not mind the show of ownership and support, or his own need for comfort. If he wanted to, he could take it out of Tank’s hide or mouth, later. His mouth, I didn’t get to use his mouth. Tonight, after the party. He smiled to himself.

  “I was about to guess what you did at work on Friday.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, I processed a whole bunch of DURPS paperwork.”

  “That would’ve been my guess as it’s, you know, your job.”

  Gladdy grinned and slapped Isaac’s thigh playfully. “Cheeky. But you see it’s the kind of paperwork that’s important. Because…” She drew it out. “It was yours! Your application for residency and pack.” Suddenly her big brown eyes got even bigger and welled with tears. “You’re gonna stay with us.”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  Another woman came up to them. “You better. Gladdy was crowing it all over the office. We got us a legit Omega. Not to mention the fact that those fucking trappers made a stink about getting it processed quicker than a witch’s tits.” The woman was huge, big as Tank, pale blond and almost aggressively plain.

  “Isaac, you’re settling here?” Lavish looked like she too might cry. “For good?”

  Isaac rolled his eyes. “Ostensibly, that’s what this party is about. It’s a welcome-to-the-pack plus burn-meat-in-the-backyard dealy-bob.”

  “You want to stay?” Xavier would be fiercely protective forever.

  Isaac smiled and leaned back to rub his nose in Tank’s neck. “I want to stay.”

  “Okay, then.” Xavier almost but not quite smiled.

  Lavish took his arm and patted it. “Honey, you get to keep your best bartender.”

  “Hey, now!” Clara arrived in time to hear that. “I thought I was your best bartender. Hi, sugar.” She smooched Isaac on the check. “Hi, bigger sugar.” She smooched Tank.

  Gladdy looked up at Clara. “Oooo, I like you. How do you feel about small Japanese females with the power of levitation?”

  Clara looked down at her. “Uh, oddly positive?”

  Gladdy took her hand. “Mr Tattooed-Human-Bad-Ass-Dude, I’m taking your best bartender over to meet the leash.”

  Xavier watched them wander away. “Was that meant to make sense?”

  Isaac and Lavish laughed at him.

  Tank said, “Have you all officially meet Ms Trickle?”

  Xavier gave the massive female a very assessing look. “Do you bounce? I could use someone like you at the door since Tank stopped showing up.”

  Ms Trickle was evidently not amused. “I have a very good job, thank you. I used to order Max around.”

  “Max?” Poor Xavier, there were a lot of new people around.

  “You called?” Max sidled up, looking gorgeous and suave and slightly fierce. Xavier clearly responded positively to that last bit. “Hello, former boss of my heart,” Max said to Ms Trickle, bumping her with his shoulder.

  Ms Trickle batted him off, twinkle in her eyes. “Asshole.”

  “Where’s your nicer half?”

  “Working, sadly.”

  Max said in a hushed tone, “So Gladdy said Jane from HR is sleeping with that sumage George from processing. Say it isn’t so?”

  “You know I don’t keep track of the sex lives of peons,” said Ms Trickle, who obviously knew everything that went on around her at all times. “But honestly, such bad taste.”

  Isaac was delighted with her. No idea who she was, or what she was, but delighted.

  Max was also delighted. “Come along, woman, and tell me everything.” And he dragged her off toward the food.
>
  “Who was that? What was that?” Poor Xavier.

  Isaac could only feel sorry for him. He was outside the safety of his own domain and kingdom.

  Tank said, “That’s our kelpie friend. She’s the head of Max’s old department at DURPS.”

  “No, the other one.”

  Isaac chuckled. “Max? He’s way more complicated.”

  Xavier pursed his lips. “Dangerous?”

  “Very,” said Isaac.

  Xavier nodded like he’d guessed as much.

  Tank clearly wanted to forestall matters. “Can I get you a beer, Xavier?”

  Xavier tried hard not to look relieved. “Just plain old beer? Nothing bloody or fermented with fish or anything?”

  Tank laughed and let Isaac go. “IPA?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “You seem like an IPA kinda dude.”

  “You’re wasted on the door, ever consider bartending?”

  “Come on, let’s go see what’s on ice.”

  Isaac was left alone with Lavish.

  “You want some food or something?” Isaac offered. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

  Lavish took his arm and began to bodily pull him toward some chairs, nested away from the bulk of the crazy. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling, I want gossip. Tell me everything! You’re staying, you have a man, this is wonderful.”

  * * *

  Of course, Hayden showed up. And was his usual stalker asshole self, despite the fact that Isaac smelled almost completely of Tank now.

  He drove up, double-parked, slammed out of his car, then rushed the party shouting obscenities and generally making everyone uncomfortable. Tank hated the way Isaac shrank away from the awful man.

  Tank didn’t even have to kick him out. Looking like they were relieved to have something official to do, the two trappers summarily arrested the barghest and dragged him off for questioning.

  Tank suspected they would never see the man again. Good riddance.

  After that, the evening progressed in that magic-milling way of all good parties. Tank wasn’t tipsy (that was pretty difficult for werewolves) but he was feeling lazy and content. Also horny, because Isaac kept pulling him off into dark corners of the yard and deliciously, if briefly, mauling him. Once, far away from the bustle, he’d pushed Tank to his knees and fed him his cock. Tank licked his lips hoping for some lingering flavor. He’d nearly cried when Isaac stopped it from going further.

  “Tonight, my mate,” the Omega had promised, and then led him back to the party, flushed and desperate. Tank stumbled along behind him, dazed, aching, and incandescently happy.

  Eventually, the pack and any lingerers ended up around the fire pit. Isaac and Tank sat at the end of a crowded bench, with Tank in Isaac’s lap. Which was absurd because Tank was way too big to sit in anyone’s lap. But Isaac had tugged him there, and he was obedient to his mate’s wishes.

  Isaac teased him about it, of course. “You’re squishing me, you big lug. I can’t breathe.”

  Tank was feeling confident enough, after the blow job, to quip back, “Why you gotta be so needy?”

  Isaac laughed and cuddled him. Judd was pressed against Isaac’s other side. Alec was next to him with Marvin in his lap (a much more sensible arrangement). Lovejoy stood close by, too, with an arm slung over Mana, which she was tolerating for the moment. She was bitching loudly about having broken a nail during the fight. (Tank wasn’t even sure manicures worked between shifted forms.) Kevin was laughing and flirting. Even Colin was there, perched in a camp chair looking more comfortable than Tank had seen him in a long while.

  Tank heard someone on Marvin’s right ask if he and Alec were going to have kids.

  Marvin leaned forward, a little drunk and floppy, and explained that mermen were sterile. “Don’t tell Alec,” he whispered loud enough for nearly everyone to hear. “He will keep trying to get me pregnant.”

  “Marvin, honey, I think he knows you’re a dude,” said someone.

  Marvin whirled and with exaggerated care put both his hands over Alec’s ears.

  “Possibly,” said the merman, pronouncing every syllable with great care. “But I don’t want him to stop trying.”

  Nearly everyone laughed.

  Alec flushed, removed his lover’s webbed hands from his ears, and told him he was absurd and adorable.

  Isaac shifted under Tank and sighed in contentment. “They’re wonderful, aren’t they?”

  “Told ya,” replied Tank.

  Throughout the party, the werewolves had each gravitated toward Isaac at some point or another. Their focus remained on their Alpha, of course, as it always did when Alec was around. Alpha always caused a zing of awareness, all of them keeping him in their peripheral vision. It was almost, but not quite, like the vibration between submissive and dominant. Tank felt something similar for Isaac. An innate need to feel the man’s eyes upon him, to know he had meaning, to know he was in Isaac’s thoughts.

  But what Isaac caused in the rest of the pack was different. If Alec was the current, strong and pulling them toward him, Isaac was like a pebble that had been dropped into the water, causing ripples of interest. It was less a disturbance than a delight, like a child skipping rocks. As if Isaac were there to remind them of pleasure in the water itself. There is joy in the wholeness of pack.

  Of course, it was Lovejoy who remarked upon it, as the fire died and the waves of drunken laugher simmered into contented murmurs and snatches of song. Lovejoy, who had listened, pleased, when Isaac bitched about Tank sitting atop of him, while simultaneously keeping both arms wrapped tight about his mate.

  “This is awesome!” said Lovejoy, throwing his hands up and nearly falling over. Mana attempted to brace him.

  “What is?” wondered Alec, turning to rest his head on Marvin’s shoulder blade.

  “Don’t you feel it, Alpha? Isaac being here.” Judd’s smile was wistful.

  “What? What does it feel like?” Marvin asked.

  Max said, “Is that why you’re all acting so goofy?”

  Bryan sipped his mate’s wine. Max poured a little more into his glass for him.

  Kevin said, “It’s like being high or something.”

  Tank pretended affront. “You calling my mate a drug?”

  Gladiola whipped around at that. “Mate?” she squealed.

  Isaac tensed under him.

  Tank felt himself flush. Whoops. “Uh.” He made a face over his shoulder at Isaac. “Were we not talking about that part?” His feelings of unworthiness returned in one big flood of shame. He doesn’t want to publicly claim me?

  Isaac squeezed him hard and said loud and bold with only a little tremor to his voice, “Mate.” He and Gladdy exchanged a glare of understanding.

  Isaac whispered into Tank’s ear, “It’s okay, baby, you can call me other things later. Or you can try to, but your mouth will be full.”

  Tank smiled into the light of the fire. Okay, then, this is it. This is good.

  His pack was solid, if a little floppy around him. His mate was under him, warm and present and safe. Isaac smelled like brandy, and lemon, and spices. He smelled like Tank. He smelled like home. He reached up to touch the place where Isaac’s hands were clasped about his stomach, and sighed with contentment.

  “You’re so very much mine.” Isaac’s voice was full of wonder, as if realizing it for the first time.

  Tank nodded, and leaned back, and floated, and was very much his.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you so much for picking up The Omega Objection. I hope you enjoyed Tank and Isaac’s story, Colin and Judd are next up in The Enforcer Enigma. If you would like more from the San Andreas Shifters, please say so in a review. I’m grateful for the time you take to do so.

  Even more welcome are donations to your local LBGTQ centers (time, attention, money, whatever you can give). Mine is the San Francisco LGBT Center. Find them at sfcenter.org or @SFLGBTCenter
on Twitter. Everyone needs a pack to come home to.

  I have a silly gossipy newsletter called The Chirrup. I promise: no spam no fowl. (Well, maybe a little fowl and the occasional giveaway.)

  gailcarriger.com

  Acknowledgements

  This one is for the librarians out there (Goodreads and otherwise), without you nothing would ever be properly organized.

  More G. L. Carriger?

  The San Andreas Shifters Series

  Blue jokes, raunchy gay sex, and gentle hearts

  Tinkered Stars

  Want your Gail with a side of sci-fi?

  Stories Set in Gail’s Steampunk Parasolverse

  The Finishing School Series

  Four young adult novels, begins with Etiquette & Espionage

  The Delightfully Deadly Novellas

  Polite lady assassins

  The Parasol Protectorate Series

  Five novels of adventure in silly hats, begins with Soulless

  The Supernatural Society Novellas

  Queer romances with proper subversive activities

  The Custard Protocol Series

  Four novels of world travel and stolen tea, begins with Prudence

  The Claw & Courtship Novellas

  Werewolves in cravats and the ladies who love them

  The Curious Case of the Werewolf That Wasn’t

  Short story set in steampunk Egypt, featuring one unpleasantly sexy Italian

  Gail’s Other Works

  Fairy Debt

  YA fantasy comedy short story of dragons and cupcakes

  My Sister’s Song

  A warrior woman takes on a Roman legion alone in this fantasy historical short story

  About the Writerbeast

  New York Times bestselling author Gail Carriger writes to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriate Brit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small-town life and inadvertently acquired several degrees in higher learning, a fondness for cephalopods, and a chronic tea habit. She then traveled the historic cities of Europe, subsisting entirely on biscuits secreted in her handbag. She resides in the Colonies, surrounded by fantastic shoes, where she insists on tea imported from London.