Chapter Three
Scott
When I arrived at the Council of Packs Security Division office, Rafael had been adamant that I would only be allowed to sit in on the meeting regarding Harley's case if Zade allowed it. After all, newly bonded to another Omega or not, the lucky bastard was still Harley's legal guardian.
I argued my case as calmly as possible and, finally, the younger Alpha just shook his head.
"Fine. Whatever." Zade glared at me. "But you do not talk to him until after we talk, understand? There's some shit you're gonna need to know to keep from making things worse."
Naturally, I agreed immediately. After spending the better part of two years chasing down every clue that might lead me to my Omega, there was no chance I was backing down that easily.
"Absolutely," I said, quickly stepping aside so Zade could continue on his way. There were no more seats at the table, so I leaned against the wall, thankful that the shape of the room meant I could draw in Harley's scent without anyone noticing.
"If you skim the handouts in front of you," Rafael began, "you'll see that we haven't made as much progress as we would have liked in the time since Harley was restored to the Blue Ridge…to his home."
My brow quirked up when Rafael stumbled over his words. He'd clearly been about to say restored to his pack when he stopped and reworked his sentence. A few seats away, Colby, Rafael's Omega and a COPSD Strategy Specialist must have seen my surprise, because he snagged a piece of paper from a stack on the table and twitched it in my direction. I leaned over and grabbed it with an appreciative smile, but once I read through the first paragraph, my heart stuttered and sank into my stomach.
"Subject continues to suffer from amnesia and dissociative fugue, both of which are presumed to have resulted from a currently unknown trauma. He believes that he is human," I read silently to myself, trying to hide a wince. "He has no knowledge of shifters and appears to have blocked all Omega conditioning."
Did that really mean what it sounded like?
That Harley didn't know shifters existed – much less that he was one – and wasn't responding to Alphas at all?
Looking over, I saw Colby watching me and he nodded, confirming what I had just read.
How the hell was I supposed to convince the love of my life to come back to me without him knowing what I was?
I shoved that thought to the back of my brain, forcing myself to focus on the conversations taking place in front of me.
Other than the well-established fact that Harley had been kidnapped and held against his will, the COPSD agents didn't seem to know all that much. They were still operating on the assumption that the perpetrators had been associated with a forced alpha fighting ring that they called the Alpha Zoo, but they hadn't narrowed it down to a location or even identified people of interest, much less arrested anyone.
When Rafael Borrero finished his case recap, a human at the table whose name card identified her as an agent of the Crimes Against Omegas division of the Council of Packs pulled out a list of questions. Everyone turned to look expectantly at Harley.
He sighed but answered each question as she asked it.
No, he hadn't remembered anything else.
No, he was sure he didn't know where he'd been taken.
No, he didn't know who had grabbed him.
No, he didn't know what had been done to him while he was gone.
After several minutes, Harley's distress began to alter his scent and my wolf started clawing at my gut in response. I was fighting a losing battle to keep from speaking up when Zade raised a restraining hand toward the woman.
"I'm sorry, Carol, but I think this is enough." He shot a quick glance at Harley. "He hasn't remembered anything new and he is exhausted. If anything comes back to him, I'll call you."
The woman huffed but nodded, flipping her notebook closed with a faint thud and folding her hands together on the cover. "Very well."
I followed Zade and the two Omegas out to the parking lot where he helped them into a crew-cab truck. He closed the door carefully and walked toward me, shaking his head.
"This isn't a good time, Scott."
"I got that," I agreed. "But I might be able to help."
Zade quirked a brow at me and I laughed.
"Seriously. At least hear me out." I leaned back against my van. "He has a kind of amnesia, right?" When Zade nodded, I raised a brow of my own. "It's common knowledge that beings suffering from amnesia can get their memory back from being triggered, right?"
Zade nodded. "Doc said that works in a lot of cases."
"I've known him longer than anyone else here," I pointed out. "If what you've said about your relationship with him is true, I know him better – more intimately, anyway – also." I inhaled slowly, trying not to sound overly eager. "Let me help."
Silence stretched between us for several minutes as Zade considered my words. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Let me think on it," he said.
"I know you don't really know me," I pressed carefully, "but I would never hurt him."
"There's that," Zade admitted. "But there's more. Stuff you don't know." He glanced over at the truck where the two Omegas waited and seemed to come to a decision. "The Blood Valley Pack is putting us up for a couple of days. Head on out tomorrow night and we'll talk."
I nodded, smart enough not to force the issue when he was being reasonable. When the truck pulled out of the lot, I followed behind and then pulled off into a grove of trees at the edge of the Blood Valley territory. Climbing into the back of my mobile home, I booted up my laptop and headed for my favorite search engine. After all, I was familiar enough with amnesia, but I'd never even heard of Harley's other problem. Typing in dissociative fugue, I scanned the results in horror. Whatever had happened while Harley was gone, it had to have been a nightmare.
~*~
I was still sitting with the laptop, pouring over everything I could find online that might tell me how I could help my Omega, when the morning sun began to peer in through the windshield and splinter out through the back of the van, triggering a wide yawn.
I glanced at the neatly made bunk and groaned. Physically, I was tired. Mentally, my mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. Throw in the anxious wolf who was desperate to see that his Omega was safe and there was absolutely no chance that I was going to be able to sleep.
Deciding that a run would help, I stripped down, and, since I planned on hitting the sack as soon as I got back, I put my clothes away before surrendering to the wolf that was all too happy to claw his way free.
I started out slow, keeping a careful nose out to identify territory markers. The last thing I wanted was to end up trespassing in the unfamiliar area. I loped along through the deeper shadows until I heard the unmistakable sounds of a large creature – a stag or possibly even a bear - struggling through the underbrush. Sinking back into a thicket, I was startled when the interloper stumbled into view.
It was Harley.