Omega Mine- Search for a Soul Mate Read online

  Hank rolled his eyes and moved on, finding nothing amiss with his territory or its people. He risked stretching his ears a little more, seeing just how far he could hear, and discovered that the barriers along the territorial markers were lined with white noise machines, effectively blocking him from eavesdropping on the other Alphas.

  “Do you think he’s listening to us?” a shy, Southern voice asked from the third window to the right within the resort.

  “Come away from the window, Bobby, before he sees you.”

  “Why? Maybe I want him to see me? Maybe I want him to know I’m interested.”

  Hank cleared his throat and shook his head, emptying it of the chatter, and turned back to look at the ocean, letting the white-rush of it fill him up, before turning back to start what was sure to be one hell of a miserable day.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The second day was long.

  Hank had chosen a few men in addition to Evan Vaughn in hopes of keeping things more interesting, and possibly deflecting some of the women’s attention away from him and onto someone else. It hadn’t seemed to work very well, though he noticed Evan holding court with a group of ladies by the pool, a box of equipment of some kind by his side, and his smile and laughter reeling them in for long periods of time.

  Hank endured hours of questions and earnest eyes from various women, but he knew without a doubt that his Omega wasn’t one of them. He didn’t want to hurt their feelings, and yet he found himself being increasingly rude, until finally he was left alone by the towel cabana watching a huddle of women around Vaughn, and a small group of the guys talking by the ocean, making motions with their hands that indicated they were discussing sports.

  The rest of his prospective Omegas had been scared off to their rooms, all of them having accepted that they weren’t going to be chosen, and from what Hank had allowed himself to overhear, most of them were relieved.

  “He’s just so uptight,” Bernice whispered. “I couldn’t put up with that.”

  “Me, either,” Bobby had agreed.

  And it didn’t even hurt a little, because Hank didn’t think he could put up with any of them, either.

  Evening was beginning to fall, and he’d already told the producers that he’d be having dinner in his room alone. They could have the big meal without him, because as far as he was concerned the prior two days had been a big waste of time, and he saw no reason to waste any more of it interacting with people he didn’t like. He even said as much during his “confessional” period and he didn’t bother trying to sound nice about it.

  That night he sat in his room with the patio door open, the sounds from the pool area reached him easily. He stared into the darkness, focusing on shadows and light patterns, as he listened to Vaughn coaxing several female applicants into displaying their naked tits, and then the ensuing laughter, and splashing that occurred.

  Later, after everyone but Vaughn and the girl he’d pointed out, the one called Debbie, had gone on to bed, he heard Debbie say, “I guess I just thought that it would be him out here with us, you know? Like some kind of latent adolescent fantasy of the pool party with the hot guy who is just dying to see you naked, and somehow you feel like any second someone’s going to lose their bikini bottoms, and God only knows what happens next…”

  “In many cultures and societies an orgy is what happens next,” Evan said.

  Debbie laughed and some splashing and giggling ensued before things grew quiet. Hank listened more closely, finally making out the wet, sticking sounds of kissing.

  Until Evan cleared his throat. “Debbie, you’re beautiful, amazing really, but—”

  “But this isn’t going anywhere. I know.”

  There was the sound of someone getting out of the pool, and then Debbie saying, “Good night, Evan. Good luck. I hope one of us ends up with an Alpha.”

  “Ditto, Debbie,” Evan said, his tone more serious than his cheeky response implied.

  “And I hope that neither of us ends up with this one,” Debbie chuckled.

  Evan said, “Ah, I don’t know. He doesn’t strike me as too bad. He’s focused, sure, but he needs to be. And he’s all business, I guess, but he just hasn’t figured out how to loosen up, yet. That’s what he needs an Omega for—to show him a little fun. You’d be good at that, don’t you think?”

  Debbie chuckled softly. “No, but you would. Good luck, Evan. Good night.”

  “Night,” Evan said.

  Hank could hear Debbie’s footsteps padding away and the swish of the water as Evan ducked back in, humming tune as he swam alone. His voice was strangely melodious given the high-strung tenor of it.

  Hank leaned out further and listened some more, taking in the sound of Evan’s heartbeat, and the way Evan’s voice vibrated the surface of the water with a burbling echo. He zeroed in on the rush-woosh of Evan’s blood—liquid within veins, within a body, swimming in a pool, surrounded by earth and air, and capped by atmosphere that bled into the vacuum of space.

  Hank, stretching out his hearing, could almost detect where the last particles of atmosphere were held fast by gravity as the sudden absence of friction eliminated all sound. Feeling himself too far extended, Hank pulled back and looked for something close and solid to focus on, something to ground him before he tranced and spent hours or days seeking that sweet difference between sound and silence. Or shifted unexpectedly.

  Evan began humming again, and his voice reached Hank easily. Hank stood up, crossed over the spongy grass the resort painstakingly planted and protected with largely-ignored signs—Please Do Not Walk On Grass—and stood, barefoot in just his pajama bottoms at the edge of the pool area.

  There were no television cameras in sight, and making a quick auditory and visual sweep of the area, Hank could hear production packing up for the night. He knew that they all assumed he was in bed sleeping, having written him off as the boring Alpha almost from the beginning. Hank didn’t really mind, since it meant they mainly left him alone.

  Evan was swimming now, ducking under the water and popping up for gasping breaths now and again. Not the most graceful swimmer, but sturdy. Everything about Evan struck Hank as sturdy, despite his cheerful manner and endless chatting. He seemed…dependable, like a dog. A good friend, a reliable ally. Hank was certain that Evan would be chosen by one of the other Alphas. He had something about him that made a person take notice.

  Hank watched him for a while, and only when Evan pulled himself out of the pool, toweled off, and started toward the resort did Hank creep back to his room.

  Hank was in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and he hadn’t even realized that he was listening for it, but, there it was all the same. Two floors up, and several rooms down, Evan Vaughn’s heartbeat and then his voice, not more than a whisper, but Hank didn’t need more.

  “Hey, Hank,” Evan said. “If you’re listening, man, which I’m not saying you are, but if I were you, I’d be listening to everything right about now, so if you’re listening, I think you’d be a great Alpha for the right person. And if they aren’t in this batch, then don’t give up. I’m sure she’s here. You’ve just got to have some faith, man. Faith and…well, hell, I don’t know what else, but something. It’s late, but you know what I mean.”

  Hank did know what Evan meant, even if he didn’t necessarily believe in it. He thought about his childhood and the years in between, how no one had ever really been able to reach him, and wondered if something as loose as faith would get him through. Or if he’d have to resign his post, give up being a cop, and accept a gruesome end for himself. Because he couldn’t imagine anchoring his life to someone like Debbie. Or Markie. Or Shawn. Or Joe. Or any of the others he’d talked to today.

  He turned over in the bed, and listened as Evan’s footsteps moved through the hotel room, focused on Evan’s breathing, and startled when Evan’s whisper sounded so loud that it could have come from right next to him. “Uh, Hank? I’m gonna beat off now, so, if you’re listening, could you…you know? S
top?”

  Hank blushed, as though he’d been caught out as a Peeping Tom. He cleared his throat, stood up, and rubbed his hands together, staring out the doorway to his patio, gazing at the ocean in the distance, deliberately not listening to Evan’s breathing speeding up, or his heart pounding in his chest, or the slap of Evan’s hand on his own cock.

  Hank rubbed his eyes and coughed. Dammit…he was listening. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the white noise generator next to his bed, and he turned it on.

  The instant reprieve was good. Right. Necessary, even.

  Hank sat down on his bed, elbows on his knees, face in his hands, gazing down at the tent in his pajama bottoms, wanting to take it in hand and do something about it, but he knew better.

  Not now. He’d have to wait.

  It was too risky, more risky than indulging himself by focusing on the edge of the atmosphere, and, besides, he didn’t have any good fantasy material anyway. There wasn’t a single woman in the last two days that he’d want to get naked with anyway. Why was his cock acting up now?

  Must’ve been Evan and Debbie talking about orgies, and the pheromones Evan was putting off during his jerk-off, which Hank could still smell if he tried.

  But he wasn’t trying. Not trying.

  Hank consciously pulled in his sense of smell, hoping that he wouldn’t need to rub a tiny bit of camphor under his nose to keep from smelling something he had no business smelling. Hank rolled his eyes and sighed. The last thing he needed was vicarious erections.

  He used the fancy sink in the ridiculous A-list bathroom, complete with a gold-plated phone by the bath, to splash cold water on his face to cool down. And then, when he thought his dick had the idea, and it was safe, he pulled his sleep mask down, and pushed his sense of hearing into the white noise, soaking it up as he drifted to sleep.

  * * *

  He was a bear. It was raining, but he could see his den ahead. He had to guard it, protect it from someone or something that was trying to get inside. He could feel them all around him, eyes in the darkness, pushing closer and closer to the den where his family lived. And then he saw it. The wolf. It was instantaneous, no time for thought. He launched at it. The wolf turned onto its back, belly up, eyes open wide. He approached cautiously, and when he placed his paw on the wolf’s vulnerable stomach, the wolf closed his eyes.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Hank woke up, punched his pillow, and stared out the window at the star-filled sky. The clock told him it was five-thirty in the morning, and he considered pulling on his running shorts, but opted for a robe over his pajama bottoms instead. He used the in-room coffee machine and took his cup out onto the patio, but the surf called to him, so he walked directly toward it, through the scrub, not bothering with the path. The ocean was dark and vast, and the break of day was visible to his eyes only as a long line glimmering at the horizon.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” The voice was cheerful, though still sleepy.

  Hank nodded.

  Just like in the bathroom the other night, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known that Evan was there on the beach, too, walking along the edge of the scrub and the sand. It was just that it didn’t bother him, or register as a disturbance.

  Well, not until Evan spoke, and then Hank grimaced and swallowed his coffee. “A little early for chit-chat,” Hank grumbled, crossing an arm over his torso, and staring into the distance.

  “Sure,” Evan said. “But isn’t it always?”

  Hank grunted in reply and took another swig of coffee.

  Evan was silent only for a moment, though. “Man, I had weird dreams last night. Do you ever have weird dreams?”

  Hank gave him a look. It wasn’t so much that he wanted Evan to go away as that he wanted Evan to shut up. There really was no need to talk this early in the morning.

  About anything.

  Much less about weird dreams.

  “I do,” Evan said. “I have weird dreams a lot. Sometimes, I dream that I’m not even an Omega or a human. How wild is that?” Evan chuckled. As he went on talking, his hands moved with his words, as though carefully laying out his thoughts before they flew away from him. “Of course, that probably happens to you all the time. Dreaming that you’re in your animal form, I mean. But as an Omega, I don’t shift. I serve as the mated touchstone for a shifter to return to. But, in some cultures, they believe that when you dream that you’re a specific animal it’s your totem speaking to you. Your symbol animal, you know? Like your spiritual Omega…even if you’re a human or an Omega. It’s confusing. But it’s like your dream animal is your own Omega. It can show you the way.”

  “Tell that to my supervisors,” Hank muttered.

  “What?”

  “I said, tell that…never mind.”

  “Oh,” Evan ran his hand through his unruly hair, pushing the length of it behind his ears. “I get you. You’re talking about being your own Omega, right? Or not needing one? If you have a symbol animal that isn’t you—in shifter or human form—that’s totally wild. But it isn’t really the same, Hank, because the concept of a symbol animal is more about directing you to what you need, and an Omega is more about keeping you alive. There’s a critical difference there—”

  “Captain,” Hank said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up.”

  Evan cleared his throat and then laughed a little. “Right. Early yet. Too early for chit-chat.” But as though he could only keep his tongue still for a few seconds at a time, he began again. “So, tonight you choose the person you’re going to have a one-on-one date with; pretty exciting stuff, huh?”

  Hank said, “Have you suddenly turned into Warren now? ‘How do you feel, Alpha Morrow? Must be great to have all these groupies for no reason at all, huh?’”

  Evan laughed again. “Yeah, man. Sucks to be you. I’m just writhing with pain on your behalf over here, let me tell you.” Evan pushed his hair from his face again and then said, “Well, seriously, though, what about it? Do you have someone in mind?”

  Hank let out a long breath and shook his head.

  “Yeah, even though the idea of all these people lining up to be at my beck and call doesn’t seem all bad, I can’t say I blame you. No one here really floats my boat either, man.”

  “Sycophants,” Hank muttered.

  “I was gonna go with ‘boring’, but, yeah, you said it,” Evan agreed. “Well, you’ll find a way to endure an evening, I’m sure.”

  Hank wasn’t.

  Evan went on, “Anyway, tomorrow, in the morning, I leave for the next Alpha camp. I think it’s Cameron’s, though it might be Heather’s. I don’t think it’s Fong’s yet, though. He’s next week sometime. Warren told me.”

  Hank gripped his coffee mug more tightly and took a drink, saying nothing.

  “Yeah, so I’m kind of excited, you know? I mean, who knows what lies ahead, but I’ve just got a good feeling. Women tend to like me, if you know what I mean.” Evan made a motion with his hand, and Hank cleared his throat again and looked away. Evan seemed a little embarrassed. “Well, I’m a people person, really. People like me.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Hank asked.

  Evan laughed and bumped Hank’s shoulder. “Oh, come on. You saw the way the women respond to me, didn’t you? I kept them away from you yesterday anyway. Don’t I even get a thank you for that?”

  Hank smirked. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, Captain. Good work seducing the other applicants.”

  “You’re welcome—and, hey, wait a minute there, I didn’t seduce anyone, well, okay, maybe a little, but they all enjoyed the seduction. It was welcome. If you know what I mean.”

  Hank chuckled and shook his head. “You’re something else, Evan Vaughn.”

  “That’s what the girls always tell me,” Evan said, pumping his fist and making an “uh-uh” sound.

  Hank snorted, shook his head, and smiled around his coffee cup, as he stared out at the ocean. He took a deep breath and sorted through the odors. Salt, san
d, sea. Coffee, toothpaste, the odd scent of ‘scentless’ shampoo. Sweat, warm skin, exhaled breath. Calming. Centering. Hank liked it. Hell, Hank liked Evan.

  Maybe he’d have the one-on-one date with him tonight. At least they both knew where they stood.

  Evan moved in front of Hank, his eyes earnest, but not in the fake way that everyone else seemed to look at him. “Yeah, well, wish me luck, okay? I’d like to get chosen by someone, and I think my best hope lies with the ladies. I’ll leave you alone now.”

  Hank sipped his coffee and said, “What’s the rush? Got somewhere to be?”

  Evan smiled and said, “No rush, man. No rush.”

  Hank cleared his throat and asked, “So that’s your preference?”

  “Huh?”

  “Women are your preference?”

  “What? Oh, sure. I mean, I guess so. I’ve been with a few men in my time and it’s just…different, you know?”

  Hank didn’t know. Well, not since he was about ten years old, but that had been kid-stuff, just experimentation, nothing real. Nothing important.

  Evan went on, “Not bad. More…primal. So, you know, if Fong decided I was the one for him, I could live with it.” Evan grinned wickedly. “Oh, hell yeah, have you seen him? Incredible, man. Just incredible. Strong arms, big legs—being held down by him…?” Evan seemed to drift off on that thought. Then he cleared his throat and said, “So, yeah, I could live with it.”

  Hank shifted, his stomach lurching. Too much coffee. He dumped it out into the sand beside him, watching as it soaked in, avoiding Evan’s eyes.

  But Evan kept talking, “But, yes, all in all, I tend to be with women. I like their softness, and there’s never anything bad to say about a nice pair of…you know? Am I right? Besides, women seem to think I’m adorable.”

  Hank scoffed. “Ah, maybe that’s what those women were saying about you when I thought they were calling you a dork.”