“Another one, Dean?”

The secretary was looking down at him through her cat-eyed frames as she spoke through the holes in the plated glass window in the police station lobby. She eyed the John hanging drunkenly by the arm in the officer’s grasp.

Dean Garza was a bear of a man standing at six-five and change with buzzed brown hair, plainclothes that showed off his burly build and a pair of reflective aviators that hid just how little sleep he’d gotten the night before. Nonetheless, Linda was never shy about questioning his overzealous on-the-job performance.

“Caught him trying to pick up an omega down on East River. Should be a pretty cut-and-dry booking. We’ll both be out of here by six.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” Linda muttered, buzzing them in. “It’s Thanksgiving. Some of us have lives, you know.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to buy that trick, I wuz jus’ askin’ him directions,” the younger Alpha slurred, stumbling along as Dean dragged him into the station.

“You can tell that to your mom when she comes to pick you up, Kyle.”

“My mom?” Kyle squeaked. All traces of the defiant jock who’d put up a big fuss when Dean had him up against his squad car, reading his rights vanished in an instant. “Wh-why’s she gotta be involved in this? Can’t you just put me in jail for the night like last time?”

“Nope,” Dean said, shoving him into a chair by his desk. He didn’t spend any more time at the station than he had to, but the mountain of paperwork ahead of him was well worth the knowledge that the streets would be clear of yet another Alpha who thought he could go around treating omegas like toys to rent for the evening.

The way he saw it, he had two options. He could either book Kyle and spend the night at the station until the next shift showed up, or he could start the process, call the kid’s mom and let him sweat it out while she made the two-hour drive to the sleepy little college town of Sage.

He didn’t have any plans to speak of, so he didn’t particularly care either way, but if he did file the report, his superiors would start asking the wrong questions again. Questions like why hadn’t he taken in the omega who’d been soliciting the Alpha in the first place? How exactly was it that a cop who’d never lost a perp to a chase in his nine years on the force managed to let every omega he was supposed to book for prostitution slip through his fingers?

They knew the answer, of course, but that never stopped them from asking. The answer was that Dean knew there were few omegas who chose a life on the streets. Unlike Alphas, who could sometimes compartmentalize love and sex, omegas were vulnerable in the sense that they formed a connection to any Alpha they mated. Under normal circumstances, it was a power imbalance and during a heat, it was the kind of exploitation that kept ruthouses in business. Dean had busted one his first week on the job, and some of the mistreatment he’d seen going on behind those doors still stuck with him. It was enough to set a precedent for going easy on the omegas he caught and bringing down the full force of the law on every Alpha who deserved it.

That night, he was compelled to show a bit of mercy, not only because he knew the mother of the idiot who happened to be slumped in defeat at his desk would dole out a far harsher punishment than he could, but because it was Thanksgiving and just because he didn’t have anything better to do didn’t mean everyone else had to suffer.

The station was due to close down for the night in less than an hour, and he’d made his suspect’s mother promise she wouldn’t break any laws to get there. After pouring himself a cup of coffee and filling out the dummy paperwork, he looked up to find the football star asleep in his chair.

It certainly wasn’t the way Dean had pictured he would be spending his holidays when he was going through the academy. Back then, he’d been convinced that it was only a matter of time before he’d find an omega--his omega--to start a life with. Nine years and he’d advanced in his career, but he was still no closer to the mate or the family he’d always wanted. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if it was because he worked too much, or just because there was no mate out there who’d make him feel that spark his own parents had always talked about when describing their mate bond. Either way, he’d earned his Detective badge before he’d earned the title of mate.

There had been other omegas, of course. He’d dated a couple seriously in the early days of his career, but he’d soon realized that the bond between an Alpha and an omega was just too intense to let it progress without the chance of anything more lasting. His father had known from the day he’d laid eyes on Dean’s mother that she was it, and as much as the waiting chafed at him, Dean intended on making sure that the next time he made a commitment to an omega, it was forever.

The front door buzzed again and the drunk young Alpha at Dean’s desk jolted in his sleep before passing out again. Even in her state of righteous indignation, his mother couldn’t have made it from New York that fast.

Dean looked up as a familiar beta walked through the doors. She was a social worker he had worked with plenty of times, and they had a mutual willingness to look the other way on protocol when it came to helping an omega or a troubled kid who’d made a few bad decisions. There was one with her today, but the kid didn’t look old enough to have gotten into anything too serious. His messy brown hair covered half his face, and the sweatshirt he was wearing was swimming on his scrawny frame. He couldn’t have been more than twelve at the most, and other than the surly look on his freckled face as he shuffled along beside her, Dean noticed his clothes were hardly warm enough to withstand the frigid weather.

“Who’s the suspect, Henrietta?”

“Dean,” she sighed. “Glad you’re here. The roads to the children’s home are shut down because of the ice, and this was the only place I could bring him.”

“Children’s home?” Dean frowned. He knew about the program and had gone to give talks on more than one occasion, but they always closed down for the holidays and sent the children to stay with foster families.

Henrietta put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled. “Gavin, why don’t you go check out the coffee machine? It makes a mean hot cocoa.”

Gavin left without a word. Dean turned back to Henrietta. “Alright, what’s his deal? Why isn’t he in a foster home?”

“He was. He ran away,” she said with a sigh, rubbing her eyes. “Third time this month.”

Dean cast a sympathetic glance over at the boy. “Rough story, huh?”

“More than usual. Kid’s been in and out of foster care ever since his adoptive parents fell through when he was six.”

“Fell through? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s just say they weren’t the nicest people,” she said in a somber tone. “They’re both in jail for fraud, and Gavin was left to pick up the pieces. He had a good placement until last year, but it was an older woman who just can’t do it anymore because of her health. He lashes out at everyone else who tries to help, and he keeps trying to find his birth father.”

“Well, where is he?” asked Dean. That was a hell of a lot to go through in the span of twelve years, and he could understand why the kid was pissed.

She shook her head. “No one knows. The adoption was sealed, but that’s never stopped Gavin from trying.”

“There’s gotta be someone who can take him in for the holiday, at least.”

“I’m afraid there’s not. I would, but I got called in to deal with another situation downtown, and I don’t even know how I’m going to get there until the roads are cleared.”

Dean hesitated, even though his mind was already made up. “Just give me twenty minutes to wrap up with this punk over here, and I’ll take him,” he said, nodding toward Kyle. “My truck’s outfitted to handle the snow, so I’ll drop you off at the metro station. They’ll clear a path there first, and you should be able to get to where you need to go.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure? You don’t already have plans?”

“I was just planning on going over to my parents’. Won’t hurt to bring him along. I hate the idea of a kid spending the night alone in some state building on Thanksgiving.”

“You have no idea what a relief that is. Thank you, Dean.” She smiled a little. “How is it exactly that you’re still single?”

He gave an awkward laugh. “Just haven’t found the right omega yet, I guess.”

He was beginning to think he never would.