Omega Society Auction [Book 2]

by Eileen Glass

  Rourke hasn’t touched anything in his kitchen, but Thomas already knows where to find the plates, the silverware, and everything else. He even helps himself to the milk and butter in the fridge.

  “So ask me your questions,” he says as he scoops out the dish contents onto two plates. “About alphas, babies… anything. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Um… What’s it like?” Rourke nods toward his stomach.

  “Not nearly as bad as you’re thinking,” he says with a grin. “I piss like every hour and my back hurts when I stand too long. Not to mention, I’m so fucking wide, I feel like my bedroom needs to have barn doors.”

  They take their plates into the living room. It smells delicious, but Rourke’s stomach is only mildly interested. He has to nibble his dinner, or he’ll spend an hour puking it up in the toilet.

  “Oh, and you have to watch out. We have slimmer bodies than women, so the weight of the child can knock you off balance if you aren’t paying attention. You’ll be clumsy with your first one.”

  It’s kind of funny how he sets the plate atop the mound to eat.

  “But don’t worry. Alphas are all over their carrying men, and not just their own either. I had a guy catch me in the supermarket. By ‘catch’, I mean he levitated me in midair, which is a freaky fucking experience by the way. You think you’re falling for like ten seconds until you realize nothing is happening.”

  After a big bite, he adds, “I hope you don’t mind my language by the way. With the little ones always around, I don’t get to cuss very often.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” Rourke says with a chuckle. He likes Thomas a lot more now. When Stephanie initially suggested dinner and all that, he was being roped into another event without any control over his life. Chatting on the couch with someone feels good.

  “Good fucking shit then. I hope you don’t mind if I turn on some music too? If I have to listen to Binky Winky and the Dancing Dinkies one more fucking time…”

  Rourke busts up laughing while Thomas navigates to a music channel on the TV. He picks an electro station with a thumping beat, but turns it down enough so they can talk.

  “So, tell me,” Thomas says, relaxing into the couch. “What’re you in for? Why are you here?”

  “Oh. Uh…” Should he lie to someone openly trying to be his friend? “It’s always been my dream to, uh, live on the Moon.”

  Thomas snorts. “Hey, I’m not corporate, man. I’m not getting paid or anything, and I’m not a spy who’s going to turn you in. It wouldn’t matter anyway. You’re past all the bullshit now. You’re omega and you’re here and you’ve got an alpha who’s very possessive of you. Drop the act. You can say anything you fucking want, the alphas are going to keep you.”

  “Right. That makes sense,” Rourke mumbles. But can he really just say that he wants his mom to get the money? And why? Wouldn’t they force him to start taking his pills?

  “I’m here because I felt like I didn’t belong. I had no purpose or anything. My mom had seven fucking kids. Religious reasons. And I was the fourth one. I wasn’t… Well, it sounds shallow to say, but… I wasn’t special. I wasn’t anything. Half the fucking time, my parents called me by the wrong name. My brothers were bullies, always getting yelled at, so their name came up the most.”

  He’s honest. Rourke probably could tell him.

  “I wanted to do something unusual. And I wanted to be wanted, you know?” He holds Rourke’s gaze, then perks up with a smile. “I got a lot more than that. Now I’m the center of attention.” He pats the sides of his big belly. “Though, it gets tiring at times. So how about you? What drove you to sign up?”

  Rourke glances away. Thomas’s answer may have been honest, but it wasn’t as crass as his.

  “The money, right?” Thomas guesses, making Rourke duck his eyes. As if he’s been caught at something.

  Thomas waves a hand airily. “Oh, ninety percent of you guys are in it for the money. The alphas know it and don’t mind it. Heck, that’s why they think the auction is a fabulous idea. They have no concept of prostitution or slavery. In their mind, it transfers the care of you to an alpha and rewards the family for producing a healthy omega.”

  His eyes close and his head nods as a particularly good beat comes on. When it fades, he opens them.

  “So how about it? Did I guess right?”

  Rourke rubs his hands together. His meal is cooling on the coffee table. He isn’t full, but his stomach is in a quiet warning mode. No more or you’ll regret it.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, is the apartment pretty chill for you? Feel like taking your magic ID for a test run?”

  Rourke doesn’t know what ‘pretty chill’ means, but he nods once.

  “The nice thing about the moon is that the malls are twenty-four seven. The day-night cycles screw up the Earthly system. Everyone gets confused having to stick to a clock when it’s day time for twenty-seven days straight and night the next. Oh, and it can screw up your body if you spend too much time outside. But we can go now if you want. I can show you some places to shop.”

  “Oh, no thank you. I don’t want to go anywhere. Just being off the space toaster is nice right now.”

  “Heh, space toaster… that’s a good way to put it.” He scoots to the edge of the couch and reaches for Rourke’s plate, having finished his own. Rourke helps lift it to him, since his arms don’t reach very far with that big belly. The edge of his fingers touch that bump for just a moment, making him pull back so fast the plate nearly slips.

  It doesn’t bother him as much now, knowing there’s a friendly person behind it. But it’s still unusual. And personal.

  “You can touch it if you want. If you’re curious,” Thomas says with a shrug, setting the plate on top.

  Rourke shakes his head and keeps his hands clasped in his lap.

  “Yeah, I never got why girls were into that. Part of honoring the baby, I guess. Guys get really protective of their bumps. But that could also be the prejudice from back on Earth.”

  He chews on a biscuit.

  “You don’t seem like the money type, Rourke. You’re all quiet and shy like you don’t really want to be here. Or maybe you’re still adjusting. That’s probably it.”

  He raises a hand as Rourke starts to make an excuse.

  “That’s alright. It’s not really my business to know. But we’re all a family here. We look out for each and take care of each other’s kids. Other alphas look out for us when ours is away. You’re gonna get used to being part of a community here.”

  “So, they’re nice?” Rourke asks. “The alphas, I mean. They’re not… you know. Bastards or anything?”

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ll have to see for yourself. They can be… trying, at times. But they allow this Omega Society to make us happy and give us protection. They take human names and assume our culture. They pride themselves on being progressive, Rourke. Your guy wasn’t that much of an asshole, was he?”

  “No. He wasn’t.” Actually, everything was going fine until Stephanie showed up. Rourke doesn’t care for public sex, but he wishes she hadn’t found them so soon.

  Thomas nods. “You’re gonna like ‘em. I can tell. You might want to double up on the dose of your pills by the way. Unless you want to end up like me in a few months.”

  “I do.”

  Thomas slowly quits eating. Rourke looks at his hands. It’s not complete honesty perhaps, but good enough.

  “Hmm.” Thomas brings a fist under his chin like a plotting super villain. “I can help with that,” he promises with a slow smile.

  “Quit worrying, Rourke!” Thomas says the next day when he catches him staring at his phone again. “Stephanie is going to be fiiine. Our little expedition is going to help her out! I told you—lovers are supposed to sneak off and break the rules. Show the Omega Society that you’re truly committed. Foolishly smitten. And her blame is lessened.”

  “You’re right,” Rourke says, tucking away the pho
ne. He was actually checking to see if Cory had answered his text yet. Is he really ignoring Rourke, which would be the obvious option, or is he just busy like always? Did he mean to get to it and forget? With Rourke out of the picture for so many months, that could be the case.

  Maybe Cory never realized he had a new message on his phone. Maybe Rourke should send him another one.

  “You’re scared as hell, aren’t you?”

  And then there’s this. Rourke would have assumed that he wasn’t supposed to leave the apartment or do anything without Stephanie. Not at first, anyway. But Thomas insisted it was fine. Omegas do what they please. Alphas may admonish them or even control them as necessary, but they aren’t prisoners anymore.

  “Your man should be worried. Hah! He doesn’t even know what’s coming.”

  “Cor—” Shit. “Thomas… What if another ‘event’ like last time happens? What if he hurts people?”

  Their subway car rides smoothly, the map indicator tracking their destination to a place simply called the University, where Zachri teaches as a professor. Thomas had Rourke show him the portfolio binder, then he found Zachri through an online search of some kind. The website was AlphaSociety.moon.gov.

  “What if he doesn’t even want to see me?”

  Thomas laughs and shakes his head. “Rourke,” he says sweetly, “Remind me again how much the man paid for you?”

  He has a point.

  “Okay, well, maybe he doesn’t want to see me in the middle of his day. While he’s working. Our last meeting was pretty short. He said he needed more suppressants because I was… you know.”

  “Yummy. That’s the word. And that’s the point. Ultimately, Rourke, the alphas are kings here. When push comes to shove, the Omega Society can eat a shit. Despite their ‘mission’ to work with alphas or whatever, they’re going to do everything they can to stop you from mating with your man.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Yeah, it’s two-fold. On the one hand, they started the Society so that Earth men would stop getting abducted and raped. And on the other hand… They’re the voice of Earth. Earth doesn’t want the alphas to get omegas because that’s how they have little baby alphas who continue to be all powerful and fuck up shit. It’s all a power trip, and we’re going to circumvent it by getting you knocked up.”

  “But what if he hurts you like he hurt Stephanie? What if he gets mad at me?” Rourke already told him the story.

  “He wouldn’t.” Thomas narrows his eyes, the gleam in them growing brighter until he looks more alpha than human. “I would fuck him up.”

  Then his expression clears to a sunny disposition again, the light ebbing slowly. “Never mess with a pregnant omega, Rourke. Not that you ever would. But trust me, when you’re carrying, you are king. A lot of guys like getting knocked up for that reason. That, and all the attention. I like the attention. I could literally get any one of those guys on the platform to be my servant for a day. You’re gonna love it.”

  I doubt it. But maybe it won’t be so bad…?

  Rourke touches his own stomach like Thomas has done so many times. The map dings. Though he never felt the backward force pushing him into his seat, the car has stopped and the door slowly withdraws to a new platform. Alphas and betas alike are standing back to give them room.

  “I didn’t realize we were slowing down,” he says, getting up.

  “That would be because of me. The sensors detect that I’m pregnant, so we go at a smooth speed.”

  Helping Thomas out of his seat isn’t so bad, but it goes against all male instinct. Rourke never thought much about how much men don’t touch each other, not even him and Cory who grew up like brothers. He keeps his hands mostly to himself, letting Thomas pull on his arm until he’s upright and steady.

  All this, while several eyes watch them from afar. Alphas don’t drop their gaze like regular people do.

  “Being watched all the time is going to take a while to get used to,” Rourke says quietly, thinking of this and the cameras.

  “They’re following us with their energy. You could test them by tripping if you like.”

  An escalator from the platform carries them to the surface. The dome overhead filters the light to be safe for human eyes, but Rourke can’t detect its surface. The Earth is vivid and huge with swirling clouds. Rourke can’t be sure what land mass is viewable to him right now. He thinks it’s Russia.

  “We’re pretty darn small compared to them,” Thomas says, guiding him into the street. “That park you went to is that way, about a ten-minute walk. They keep it close to the college kids so they work harder. Seeing the families gives them something to strive for. And this…” he gestures to the buildings ahead. “…is the University.”

  All the buildings have the same twisting, shimmering look as the omega tower. They aren’t taller, but they’re numerous and splendid to look at. Walking into the University isn’t that different than walking anywhere else. Since the streets aren’t used for cars, the businesses on the moon don’t have to be aligned in rows.

  Thomas’s phone syncs to a University map, and he navigates the directory.

  “This is the Moon Walk app,” he says distractedly. “I’ll set it up on your phone later…”

  “These are all alphas,” Rourke says, looking around. The University seems to be as big as the one in his city. This the busiest place he’s seen on the moon with throngs of people crowding certain buildings. But they’re all aliens with bright hair. And they all meet his gaze if he stares in their direction for too long.

  “Well, this is an alpha University…”

  “Thomas. This place is packed. There’s three times as many alphas here as there are anywhere else.”

  “So?” He looks up from his phone, concerned. “It’s safe here, Rourke, you don’t have to worry.”

  “But the space toaster only carried five of us to the Moon! How many shuttles can they possibly have? Not enough for all these guys…”

  “Well, they have multiple shuttles, all over the world. But yeah. You’re right. Not every one of these guys is going to win an auction, or even get the chance. It’s the price they pay for their past actions, Rourke. Their fathers were bad men, so now they have trouble getting dates. Karma.” He pats Rourke on the back. “Come on. Your very special alpha is this way.”

  The Moon Walk shows a 3d image of the buildings in front of them and has little footstep indications for where they should go. Thomas makes the app shrink and brings up Zachri’s profile again. He doesn’t seem like a friendly guy, his eyes pointed sternly forward with no expression.

  But his attractiveness can’t be denied. The long baby blue hair accentuates his high cheek bones and full lips. Rourke’s stomach flutters, and it has nothing to do with his mild sickness. He notices the brush of his own clothing against his skin, and that’s not good.

  Getting off was a whole new sensual experience last night, writhing around in his sheets. He’s hours away from that.

  “Says here he’s the Master of Human Cultural Studies,” Thomas reads aloud. “That explains why he gets a top view. He teaches a Human History class, a Human Base Culture class, and something called Free Will Studies. Huh. He doesn’t seem like the type to be a grabby alpha if you ask me.”

  The fever in Rourke’s cheeks is starting up. So, so many alphas are watching them.

  Maybe they can’t sense anything since there’s no wind. The heat is a smell thing, right?

  They come to a big door inlaid with reflective metal set into wood. Flat lines and angles cross the surface to make intricate patterns in the corners. The golden name plate says Zachri. In place of a surname there’s a writing he can’t understand and a number. However, belying the alienness of the door, there’s a schedule of office hours in a regular sheet protector taped to the window. Arial font text, bold and underlined, reminds students that they need an appointment to visit.

  “He’s probably not here,” Rourke says, keeping a straight face.
He hangs back like a small kid fearing a monster in his closet. He only thought of babies and money when Thomas brainstormed the outing. Now it’s not a plan anymore, now he’s here, and he didn’t account for being so shaky and woozy.

  Rourke has only seen vain girls in his high school classes check their appearance with their selfie camera, but he’s close to doing the same himself. His face is hot. He has no idea what his hair is doing, but every time he runs his fingers through, it’s clumpy and seems to stick up. He really wishes he hadn’t been too tired to shower yesterday. And then he slept in this morning, Thomas woke him up with the buzzer at the door.

  “Oh, he’s here, ya big chicken. Otherwise the app would’ve taken us to his classroom instead. Or to the bathroom or something, heh.”

  “The app follows that closely?” Rourke says incredulously. “What, is he microchipped?”

  “Alphas are accessible at any time in public, but you had better have a damn good reason for bothering one. It’s part of their culture, which you’ll learn about when they put you in classes. Now stop trying to run away, and stop distracting me.”

  Thomas grabs his wrist with one hand and raises the other to knock.

  “Wait!” All Rourke has done since getting here is ask questions, but he can think of more.

  It’s too late. Thomas knocks loudly. There’s definitely the sound of someone on the other side, probably a chair scooting back. Then the murmur of voices.

  “Hm, you know, I have to go to the bathroom,” Thomas mumbles quickly and lets go of him.

  Rourke stares at the door, sensing someone approach, alternating between feeling the wrongness of his hair and smoothing his hands down his shirt. He should have worn more deodorant. He’s sweating so much.

  “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, alright?” Thomas’s voice comes from far away and Rourke turns to see him waddling for the elevator.

  “What?! No, where are you going?!”

  Thomas shoots him a mischievous grin and punches the button for the elevator. Damned alien technology with its magic-physics gets it there in two seconds. The door handle clicks as someone pulls it open, and the last piece of Thomas to slip into the elevator is a thumbs up for Rourke.