The cave had been a small reminder, nothing major. Easily laughed off, especially with his alpha’s care. But a reminder nonetheless, and thinking on it now, Fenrir was pissed.
That damn Shout irrational fury would cost him.
He wasn’t subtle when he kicked open the door to the office at the far end of the hall, blaster raised and ready. The first shot landed in the back of the man seated at the desk, the next through his skull.
It wasn’t until the third shot that Fenrir realized the person he was shooting was too short to be the target he was after.
Almost as soon as he recognized his error, a heavy weight slammed into him from the right, taking him down instantly.
He landed on his left shoulder, hard enough he heard a crack a second before exploding pain shot down his nerve endings. Somehow, he held onto the gun, twisting beneath the solid mass on top of him, managing to get the barrel between them.
Fen fired, a rush of satisfaction blanketing over the pain as he watched a bullet rip through his attacker’s chest.
Trick howled and fell backwards, shuffling away from Fenrir, who got off one more shot before the weapon clicked with every pull of the trigger, signaling an empty magazine. With a curse he tossed it to the side, shoving to his feet the same second as Trick.
The two of them squared off for a moment before Trick glanced at the dead man sitting in his chair and then leapt for the holster attached to his belt.
Fenrir reacted without thinking, forming ice shards in the air and sending them flying. Many of them landed, piercing through clothing and the alpha’s flesh.
But Trick wasn’t the only thing he hit.
Fen’s first mistake had been in being too hasty—he should have checked to be sure it was Trick seated in front of the electronics.
His second mistake…was also in being too hasty.
Shards of ice speared through one of the computer systems, sparks flickering. There were a few popping sounds, and a small waft of smoke, but then nothing.
Fenrir released the breath he’d been holding but quickly felt that same panic swell when Trick grabbed a cup of coffee from the corner of the desk and dumped the entire contents over the outlet.
This time the flames took, bursting forth to engulf half the wall before Fen got his wits about him.
While his gaze was latched onto the spreading fire, Trick’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying back into a filing cabinet. He hit his already dislocated shoulder and cursed, momentarily seeing stars wink in front of his eyes.
“The dead should stay dead,” Trick declared, his parting laugh mocking.
Through blurred vision, Fen saw him reach the door, but by the time he straightened, it was too late to stop Trick from leaving.
The sound of the lock being set from the outside was deafening.
Chapter 26:
“Fenrir Snow’s body is providing a lot of useful material,” Fiora’s slightly manic tone came through the earbud attachment of Oberon’s multi-slate and he sighed, laying an air of boredom on thick.
“I told you not to bother me with trivial matters,” he said from his perch in the private box overlooking the main stage of the auction house. The auction was set to begin within the next ten minutes, a full sale purchase one this time, with a mixture of alphas and omegas up for grabs. He strummed his fingers on his thigh, careful not to glance around at the crowd, keeping his eyes on the row of product kneeling at the back of the stage.
They’d made a big deal at the heat auction, revealing them with a raised curtain just as the event started. Since this was for ownership and not a single heat or rut, the Wardrobeapproached things differently, setting out the merchandise early so potential buyers could look their fill beforehand.
“You consider the dissection of your omega trivial?” Fiora hummed. “Interesting.”
“Stop calling him that.”
“True. You broke the bond the second you killed him.”
They’d been through this already. Had set the scene three days ago, even going so far as to have Fenrir’s “body” brought to Frost Loans and wheeled out on a gurney. If there were Wardrobe spies set around them, they would have seen and run straight back to Michelle to confirm everything she’d no doubt heard through Oberon’s hacked multi-slate.
He’d discussed how the omega had tried to kill him with his Shout abilities, and how in the heat of the moment, he’d shot Fenrir in self-defense. His call had been to Fiora, a preplanned affair, wherein they discussed how she wanted to take the omega apart to see if there were any useful parts. She’d added there might be a chance of her replicating part of Rebirth by testing his blood and altered DNA.
Once the groundwork had been laid, they’d gotten to building a believable lie.