Forbidden (19 page)

He threw the bag of peas against the wall, landing with an unsatisfying
slorp
to drop to the tile next to the kitchen in a heap. “It is! How could I not notice you're being
beaten
? What the hell kind of person am I not to step in and make it stop?”

Rachel curled her legs into the chair beside her and leaned down on the chair arm. “You
can't
make it stop. You're not a big enough dog. Nobility only goes so far and then the noble die fighting. That's not to say that some battles aren't worth fighting, but really, what you saw today doesn't happen that often. It's been a long time since I took a cuff to the face. It's like, you know how you want to be a cop?”

He nodded, but, “How is that the same?”

“People abuse cops because you enforce the law. A lot of cops burn out because of the abuse. I mean, why put up with bullshit when nobody gives a damn whether or not you do the job?”

True. Ray had said as much to him.

“But you do it anyway, because
serve and protect
actually means something to you. And, well,
serve
means something to me too. My birth mom was a nurse and she was really proud of what she did. She didn't want to be a doctor and think about just medicine. She wanted to think about
people
. Caring for them, helping them stay healthy or get better when they were sick. Service was something to be proud of. And I inherited that.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. That. I don't mind cleaning or cooking or caring for old people. I'd do it anyway, even if it wasn't an assignment. Just like you'd be a cop even though you'll sometimes be abused. Eventually, I'd like to start my own business, selling herbs and health food to keep people happy and well. People will laugh and some people won't be customers. That's okay. The great part is, I've learned a ton by being the Omega—about customer service, about the kinds of products that are needed…”

Rachel nodded. “About family disputes and how to salve wounds, both physical and emotional. Lots of stuff. It's not a horrible life, Alek. Working as the Omega for an insane boss is like any other job where you work for an insane boss. It sucks. You get through it by thinking about the good things. The people you help, the lives you touch. It makes it better.”

“Not great,” Scott admitted ruefully. “But better.”

“So is that the sort of abuse I have to expect, or what I've inflicted on Claire?”

“Yes,” Rachel admitted with a nod. “But don't sell Claire short. She's tough as nails and resilient. She always kept up everyone else's spirits in the cave. Even when she was scared shitless. She always seemed calm and in control and it gave the rest of us a little extra courage. She encouraged me to keep singing, even when my throat was parched and people were screaming and dying. ‘Don't let them take your soul too,' she used to tell me. I've remembered that to this day. My soul is my own. Everything else is fixable. Mental, physical, and emotional. I can fix those. But I have my soul. Nobody in this town has the power to take that away.”

Scott grimaced just a bit. “I don't know that I agree with you. I've wondered for a long time if the souls in this town are being sucked dry. Memories, feelings, even people aren't the same now as even a few years ago. Like, have you noticed nobody is searching for Kristy and Darrell anymore?”

Rachel raised a brow. “I heard Dani say they were found. Haven't they been?”

Alek felt that creeping dread seep back into his chest. He hadn't imagined seeing the dark-skinned girl on the canyon bottom. “Has anyone actually
seen
them? Are they really back?”

“Maybe we should ask Claire when she gets back from the school, if she saw them there or if any of the kids were talking about them.” Rachel flipped the bag of peas again, the thick black hair over her ear now dripping from the thawing bag.

Alek stood up. “Or maybe I just need to go there myself and ask.” He walked to the door, but before leaving, he turned back to his friends. “Thanks, guys. Really. This has been … enlightening.”

As he shut the door behind him, he couldn't help but hear Scott's comment. “And off he goes again to get himself killed. I hope he lives long enough to see a badge on his shirt.”

Rachel replied, “Me too. Wanna stick around and watch
Die Hard
?”

Scott guffawed. “I can't imagine what made you think of that movie.”

Their laughter followed him down the hallway to the stairs.

*   *   *

The bell signaling the start of class was just fading as Claire walked into the school. She could hear voices in the classrooms as she walked down the hall, nearly silent in sneakers. She wished she had been able to clean up a little more, but the best she could do was to duck into the bathroom at the post office and run a comb through her hair and scrub her face with a paper towel and some hand soap. The clerk behind the counter had been nice enough to share a couple of breath mints. He seemed like a nice person, even though he was a little sullen. Sort of the town curmudgeon, but not hostile.

She heard young laughter behind one door and couldn't help but peek through the window. The students were about the age she had planned to teach. The instructor seemed bored as he announced in a monotone to turn to page twenty-seven of the text. “And stop laughing this minute.” The words were like a blow to her heart. How could you tell children to stop laughing? Tiny faces fell, their eyes lowered to the text.

“Ms. Sanchez?” Principal Burrows's voice behind her made her jump and turn away from the classroom door. She glanced at her watch. It was 10:01. Crap!

She carefully looked at his necktie, which was different from the one he'd had on earlier this morning. “Yes, sir. I'm sorry I'm late.”

“This way, please.” He turned on his heel and expected her to follow. She did, remembering to keep a few paces behind.
Omega. Be the Omega
.

He opened the door to what appeared to be the cafeteria and held it open while she went in. He closed the door and then swept his hand toward the tables. “Have a seat.”

Why meet in here and not the office? What was going to happen? She sat at the one table where there was a wall at her back. She was surprised at the lack of smells this late in the morning. Was there not a school lunch program in place? Of course, maybe the kids went home to eat. In a town this small, that would make sense.

He remained standing, his hands clasped behind his back in what she recognized was “parade rest” in some branches of the military. “Marine?”

A short nod. “It takes discipline to run a school, Ms. Sanchez. Children are unruly in the best of times, and the natural Sazi aggression makes them even more difficult to manage as they approach puberty.”

She knew that and he didn't seem like he wanted her opinion, so she stayed silent and clasped her hands on the table in front of her.

“Do you agree with corporal punishment in schools?”

She wagged her head. “Let's say I'm undecided.”

“How so?” So, he was going to push it. Well, better to talk about it now than have to defend it later.

She took in the room—the pale peach cinder block walls, the tile floors, and rows of tables. “I believe that people, including children, are good for only two reasons: the desire not to harm, or the fear of retribution. I prefer to encourage the desire not to harm. But we're Sazi, and predators. The desire to hunt and kill is in our DNA. Add that to a fragile, developing psyche and there has to be some fear of retribution or the world would know we exist and we'd be slaughtering every human in a fifty-mile radius.”

He nodded, actually listening to what she was saying. “So is a measure of pain reasonable retribution?”

“Sometimes,” she was forced to admit. “But last night wasn't reasonable. It was excessive.”

He frowned and squared his shoulders, his relaxed body stance taking on a hostile edge. “I wasn't talking about last night.”

She looked him calmly in the eyes. “Yes, you were. Ultimately. You want me to agree. But I don't.”

“I should hit you right now for staring me in the eyes.”

Sudden understanding rushed through her. “But that's why we're here, isn't it? So you don't
have
to. In front of your staff in the office, you'd have to.”

He didn't respond. Instead, he turned and walked toward the back of the room where a buffet line stood empty and dark. “You will report here every day at ten o'clock to prepare lunch for the students. We haven't had a cook for some time, and I believe a hot midday meal encourages learning. I understand from your pack leaders that you're an excellent cook.”

Lunch lady? He was making her the
lunch lady
? “But—”

“You will cook and clean up the room afterward. In addition, you will have the opportunity to meet the staff and students in a nonconfrontational manner, where your status in the pack is clear.” He turned back to face her. “At the end of what I imagine will be a very short period of your Omega status, judging from the stinging in my hand this morning, you will be integrated as a teacher's aide until the next term. Is that clear?”

Her head was spinning. Not beaten. Not humiliated. He had figured out a way to follow the rules while giving her a measure of dignity and a way to advance in a logical way. “
Why?
”

He let out a small sigh. “People with teaching degrees are a dime a dozen, Ms. Sanchez. But a
teacher
 … that's a rare commodity. When you come upon one who can even teach a grumpy old bear, it's worth saving and encouraging. Now, I believe you have some cooking to do. You'll find the supplies in the kitchen.”

“But what about the rest of my duties?” It would take hours to prepare the food for the whole school and clean up afterward.

“That, I can't help you with, I'm afraid. This will be in addition to your duties. It won't be a pleasant period for you. Make the best of it and strive to impress and inspire.”

So, the ex-Marine was telling her to “suck it up, snowflake.” It was what her Alpha used to say when she would complain about chores or schoolwork. Some things were worth paying a price for. “Yes, sir.” She stood and saluted, probably botching it horribly.

He actually cracked a smile as he returned the salute. “Eyes down, Ms. Sanchez. For now. The office secretary will provide whatever information you need.”

The principal left her alone in the cafeteria for her to plan a meal for a whole bunch of people that needed to be served in about two hours. Unfortunately, she didn't know how many people, food allergies, or even where all the supplies were kept.

She had a
lot
of work to do.

 

CHAPTER 15

It was nearly nightfall when he saw Claire again. He'd watched from a distance through the window of the school cafeteria as the principal met with Claire. When he left her and she had started to prepare lunch for the school, it took him by surprise. That she was smiling confused him even more. He needed to find out what had happened. He'd left a note at the office and was relieved when she limped into the diner, scanning the room until she spotted him at a corner table.

She slid into the booth, looking utterly exhausted. “I'm glad you're okay. Scott was really worried you'd … well, he worried. But you look okay. Or, at least, not any worse.”

“Yeah, he had reason to worry. But I talked with him and Rachel for a while and they calmed me down.” He reached out and touched her hand. “Are
you
okay? You were at the school a long time.”

Paula, the waitress who usually took care of his table approached with pad in hand. “Hi, Alek. What'll you have?”

“The venison roast smells great tonight. I'll go with that.” He looked over at Claire. “Are you hungry? I'm buying.”

She looked around the table, as though searching for something. “Could I get a menu?”

Paula's eyes narrowed. “I'll see if I can find one.” She spun around on her short heels and disappeared behind the counter.

“Great. Now I pissed off the waitress. It's been that kind of day. She'll probably spit in my soup.”

He shook his head. “Nah. Paula's fine. She must just be tired. Look, she's coming back and has a menu.”

But instead of handing it to Claire, she tossed it down on the table. It bounced and nearly knocked over the water glass. He looked up in surprise. “Ease up, Paula. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “It's just been a long day.”

Claire took no more than a few minutes to make her choice. “Just a burger and fries, I think. I'm too tired to chew much more than that.”

“Yeah, I ran into several people who saw you today. Everyone is really impressed. I'm glad the leg and head didn't slow you down too much. I'd be happy to help you more tomorrow. Now that I know what I need to do, I'm sure I can fit it all in.”

She yawned wide. “It was a lot of work and my leg is pretty sore. Being on my feet for so many hours hasn't helped the muscles heal up any.”

“When I left the note at the school to have you meet me, they said you were cooking. Why cooking? I thought you were coming on as a teacher.”

By the time she'd explained what Mr. Burrows had done, the food had arrived. Alek was impressed. “So you just have to cook for the rest of the time you're the Omega? Heck, that won't be too long.”

“I hope not,” she said, sipping on her glass of tea. “And I do like to cook, so it's not a real burden. It will make for some long days, though.”

“Like I said,” he said through a bite of venison. “I'll help. It's my fault you're not in a classroom already. But hey, you're probably sick of talking about chores. What was it like in your old pack? What's the biggest difference you've noticed here?”