For a moment, the air stank of sour fear, Maryanne audibly swallowing. Hesitant in returning to her duty—a woman who had undoubtedly killed when it had served her in Thólos—she went back to the controls.
“You have grown soft in seclusion, Maryanne Cauley.” Because she had been coddled and comforted. “Never forget that I know precisely why you were thrown into the Undercroft.”
“This is different.” Her voice betrayed her trepidation far more than her stink ever would. “That was personal. This is… anyone could have been in that club tonight. You have no idea who you killed.”
“That task will fall to you once Brenya Perin has reached her final destination undetected. Get back on task and spare me your false scruples.”
“Staring at corpses who’ve puked out their lungs sounds like a great way to be rewarded. Even Jules was offered a Beta to fuck.” Dexterous fingers began flying over the controls, the female’s snark returning with a “Where the fuck is my Beta? And, for your information, mon capitaine, you turned off the containment protocol notification. No one is going to know those people were infected. Your distraction is pointless.”
“At no time did I claim it was a distraction.”
“So, you just killed them because?”
How she still failed to wrap her head around it, Shepherd would have to address another time. “Brenya Perin has reached her exit point. She did this after scuttling her way through foreign surroundings to find Jules and offer him easy freedom. She did this with only a fork and a knife. I have fitted you with the best technology in Greth Dome, and you have lost Jacques Bernard, because your focus is pathetic.”
“Fuck!” Scrambling to switch the feed, Maryanne leaned on facial recognition software—a desperate fallback that would take more time than they had. The voice of his student wavered as if she fought to hold it together after the intensity of the last hour. “Wait. Brenya is in the wrong location. She’s climbed higher than her rooms.”
Again, the Alpha female had missed the point, Shepherd explaining as if Maryanne were a simpleton. “She’s tired and she thinks she might fall. The balcony will catch her.”
Together, they watched an Omega with a fork and knife pry open an access panel and suck in outside air. Unlike Maryanne, she didn’t waste time. Brenya ripped open her shirt, stripped fully naked, and stuffed the dirty thing behind her. Climbing out, one foot on the winged shoulder of the Omega Goddess, the other notched into a bit of filigree, she closed the panel and hastened to screw it shut.
Panting from the effort, favoring her right arm, she slid down the wall. There was no way for her to see at that speed where she might land her weight, what handholds might become available, but instinct drove her to find a path before she fell a greater distance than she might survive unscathed.
Shepherd and Maryanne watched as the final foothold was missed.
Dangling from one arm, the Omega took the utensils out of her teeth and let go.
The landing was hard; there would be further bruising. But her Alpha didn’t seem the type who would notice the changing landscape of her skin.
Fork and knife were back on the empty table just as Jacques entered the room. Finding his mate missing from the nest, he raced toward the open door to the balcony.
Shepherd issued another order. “Give me volume.”
“What are you doing out here?” The Commodore looked at the breathless woman, turning his glare next to the forgotten dinner table. “Did you eat all that food while I was gone?”
She didn’t answer, sitting down in the nearest chair with her hands folded in her lap.
“I asked you a question, mon chou.”
Brenya Perin stared down at her fingers, struggling to keep her breath even. “I’m very hungry.”
A lie. For on the screen pulled up beside the five angles of Jacques Bernard’s rooms, Jules had just finished devouring the food he’d been given.
Not that the people of Bernard Dome would ever know. As per protocol while incarcerated, the Beta had sat still for so many days that playing his actions on a loop would go unnoticed. Had gone unnoticed by the remote guards monitoring his cell.
Tearing at blond hair, the Commodore turned into his room to snarl into a COM where his Omega might not hear. “Feed him clean food. Whatever he wants. NOW!”
Then the Alpha was again outside, snatching up the female to return her to the nest. Her back hit the pillows, her hair splayed, and her body laid out like a sacrifice. Standing over her, the male took his time undressing, staring down at the woman as if unsure where to begin the feast. From the feral look of him, it would not be the gentle touch she clearly needed at the moment.