Chapter Twelve
Max mused on Michael’s questions as he drove, the blood drying on his skin. The omega was right. By himself, he wasn’t worth enough for anyone to be going to that much trouble to get him back. There had to be something more going on, some deeper purpose. If only he could remember—
“I was supposed to get to you before someone else did,” he said, the memory coming to him clearly.
“What?” Michael asked, turning from where he’d been staring out the window and leaning closer.
“I remember a conversation. I don’t know who with.”
He had a flash of an image. Another man, talking, but his name eluded Max and when he tried to focus on his face, it kept slipping out of reach.
“He knew there might be other people looking for you. I… wasn’t supposed to get you out the way I did. But we were out of time.”
“Because Julian and Claude had sold me?”
That must have been it.
“It was supposed to be slower. I was supposed to befriend you, gain your trust, and find a safe way to get you out of there. Not…” He had a brief recollection of fighting, a burst of anger and fear.
“Not bust me out of there in the middle of the night, fighting your way through the guards?”
“Yeah,” Max agreed. “Not like that.”
“That day, the day you broke me out, Claude stormed upstairs to talk to Julian. He was angry because Eliot had presented as an omega. I was worried so I tried to go upstairs to listen in to their conversation but you were already there.”
“I was eavesdropping on Julian and Claude?”
He sort of remembered that. Holding still, hardly daring to breathe as the men spoke.
“But that was too quick. They can’t have decided to sell you then and there. Deals like that take time, they’d have to find a buyer, negotiate a price.”
“Unless they’d already had an offer,” Michael said dully. “And they were just waiting to see if they still needed me. Julian wanted another alpha. If Eliot had presented as one, they wouldn’t need me any longer.”
“But you said he presented as omega. So wouldn’t they have kept you…”
“For Claude, the only thing worse than me not giving them an alpha would be giving them an omega. He was furious when he realized. But after he talked to Julian, he was suddenly okay. I thought the alpha had reassured him, had talked him down, but he must have agreed to get rid of me.”
“And they already had an interested buyer so all they needed to do was make the call. Explains how they got everything in place so fast.”
Now Michael was engaged in the conversation, he seemed calmer and more focused.
“But why would these guys want me?”
“Maybe you’re a rare compatibility?”
“If I was, Julian wouldn’t have sold me. Besides, Claude told me more than once how lucky I was that they chose me. He said they had several omega to choose from. He thought I should be grateful.”
“Then maybe it’s nothing to do with you. Maybe it’s about your brothers.”
“Do you remember them at all? Griffin and Andrew?”
“Can you tell me about them?” Maybe something would jog his memory.
The omega made a face. “It’s been such a long time since I saw either of them. I have a hard time remembering what they look like, picturing their faces. I was just a kid the last time I saw Finn. And Drew and I were teens when we were sold.”
“Tell me what you do remember,” Max encouraged, knowing that it would at least pass some time even if it didn’t help trigger his memories.
The omega spoke about their pack, about the places they played as kids, about how much he looked up to Griffin, who seemed older and wiser and took care of them. Their parents didn’t feature a lot in the stories, hands-off and in the background. The alpha of the pack did, sometimes, a scary figure they did their best to avoid. Griffin being sold was a turning point in Michael’s life.
“I was always scared after that. If it could happen to him, it could happen to me. And everyone just accepted it. No one fought for him or defended him. And when the time came, when they came for me and Drew, no one fought for us, either.”
“If I’d been there, I’d have fought for you.”
He said the words without thinking.
“You are good at fighting,” Michael agreed quietly, glancing away.
“Are you scared of me?” Max wondered. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”
He kept his eyes on the road, his hands on the steering wheel. For reasons he didn’t quite understand, the answer meant a lot to him.
“Every time you’ve fought, it’s been to protect me. First the guards, then the coyote, then those shifters. I’ve been nothing but trouble for as long as you’ve known me. I’m surprised you haven’t kicked me to the curb.”
Max snorted. “Right now, you’re the only person in the world I know. Without much by way of memory, I have to rely on instinct. And my instincts say to protect you and get you to safety, wherever that may be.”
“And after that?”
“Maybe things will start to look clearer.”
“You really don’t remember anyone else? Not your family? Your pack? Whoever sent you to find me?”
Max searched his memory for the umpteenth time. When he thought of home, of family, he got a jumble of images, none of which looked like they fit. It made him afraid of what he’d find once it all came back to him.
“I get flashes,” he told the omega. “Faces with no names, names with no faces. I hear people’s voices. But it’s all disconnected. The clearest is the shifter I’m taking us to. I remember where to go, and I remember his face but that’s all.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Michael said. “Which is what I’ve got.”
He leaned against the window, peering out. “How much longer do you think?”
“A few more hours,” Max told him. “Unless we run out of gas first.” It would be early evening by then.
They were on the outskirts of the city when the tank finally ran dry. Getting out, Max pushed the car off the road and looked around.
“We’re not far, I don’t think,” he said. “We’ll go on foot.”
He looked at the omega who was glancing down at his feet. His bare feet. Which also reminded Max how they were both dressed and the fact that he had dried blood coating the side of his face and half his shirt.
“We could shift?” Michael suggested.
“An ocelot might escape notice in a city this big but a bear would not,” Max replied. “Let’s see if we can find a river or something. At least if I can wash off, we won’t have someone calling the cops the second they see us.”
They had to make do with an outdoor tap in someone’s yard. Max scrubbed hard at his skin, using his nails to scrape away the blood caked on him. He rinsed his shirt but it was a lost cause. Michael was a little better off. Dirty, sure. And barefoot. But he looked more like a young homeless person and less like a crazed murderer.
“We could steal some clothes,” Michael said.
But there were no washing lines outside.
“I guess everyone has dryers? It’ll be fine, we’ll just keep off the main roads and out of sight. If we have to, we can hunker down somewhere until it gets dark.”
They started walking, Max trying to trust his sense of direction to lead them right. The roads themselves didn’t look familiar but the buildings in the distance and the views around them did. He’d been in the city before, he’d traveled through it. They weren’t far now, he was sure of it.
As they moved, they did their best to avoid any contact with the humans. It meant they ducked down countless laneways, hid behind a few dumpsters, and just generally kept out of sight. Once or twice a police car cruised by. The first time, they ducked into a laneway. The second time, they didn’t have that luxury, so Max pulled the omega into his arms, leaned down, and kissed him. The car never slowed, the officers not giving them a second glance. But Michael certainly did, his expression part-perplexed, part-longing.
“Public displays of affection make a lot of humans uncomfortable,” he explained. “They don’t look for long.”
“Oh.” Michael seemed a little disappointed. “Couldn’t you just have hugged me?”
“And miss out on an excuse to kiss you?”
The disappointment faded as the omega grinned up at him.
“Oh, like that is it?” He glanced at the road. “I think someone else is coming. We’d better not take chances.”
Snorting, Max cupped his cheek and urged his head up, their lips meeting. Michael wrapped his arms around Max’s neck, leaning up into the kiss. A wolf-whistle nearby broke them apart. Michael went to look toward the sound but Max caught him in time.
“Ignore it. We should keep moving.”
They had to be more careful. Attracting attention was the last thing they wanted to do.
The further they walked, the more concerned he became about Michael’s feet. He’d given the omega some socks but they were no replacement for shoes and were wearing out quickly on the city streets. The omega didn’t make a word of complaint but Max noticed that he’d started to limp. He’d have carried him if he wasn’t sure it would garner them more attention.
He was just about to tell Michael to change to his shifter form when they rounded a corner and he found he knew exactly where they were.
“That’s it,” he said, nodding to the building directly across the street. “That’s where we need to go.”
Part of him had been sure that once he got them there, he’d remember why he believed it was a safe place for them. Now that they were there, it seemed it wasn’t the magic memory-restoring solution he’d expected.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Michael asked.
Was he?
“I… I think so.”
“You seemed more certain before.”
“I was. I am. Just… I thought I’d remember more than what this place looked like, but I don’t. I have no idea what’s beyond those doors, no idea who’s beyond those doors.”
“Maybe Drew and Griffin are in there.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t feel like that was the case but what did he know?
It started to rain, and they moved to shelter in the doorway of the building opposite, huddling close together as they tried to decide what to do.
The sound of a door opening had Max whipping his head around. Someone was leaving the building they were watching and heading their way. Just one person, a hood thrown over his head.
“Who is that?” Michael whispered.
“I don’t know. But maybe we’ll get some answers soon.”
The man, a shifter and an alpha, slowed to a stop a few feet away from them.
“Max,” he said calmly. “You’re back. We weren’t expecting you. Who’s your friend?”
He glanced around Max to Michael, the omega ducking out of sight behind him.
“That’s Michael,” Max said shortly.
The stranger pulled down his hood and Max recognized him somehow, the alpha’s face and voice very familiar. He was the alpha from Max’s memories.
“Hello, Michael,” he said. “I’m Parker. I’m sure Max has told you lots about me. Why don’t you both come inside out of the rain?”
If he was surprised by Max’s unfriendliness or the omega cowering behind him, he didn’t show it.
Neither Max nor Michael moved or spoke.
“Is something wrong?” Parker asked. “Are you hurt? I can smell blood.”
“It’s not ours,” Max told him.
The alpha nodded.
“Good to know. Are they dead or still on your trail?”
“Dead, but there may be more.”
“Have you spoken to Griffin?”
Michael made a sound on hearing his brother’s name, drawing the alpha’s eyes back to him. Max moved sideways, blocking the omega from his view. Parker’s eyes went a little wide at that, surprised. He took a step back, holding his hands up, palms out.
“Max, I don’t know what’s going on but if you’re in trouble, you can’t stay out here. It’s too open, too exposed. Come inside. You both look like you could use a hot meal and a warm shower. Whatever has happened, we’ll deal with it, together.”
It was those last words that did it. Max remembered them, remembered an outstretched hand and the promise of safety.
He nodded, drawing Michael out to stand beside him, putting a protective arm around his shoulders. They followed Parker across the street and inside the building. The alpha held the door open to let them in.
“Welcome home, Max. You’ve been missed.”