Crosshair of the Dog

Shadow stared at Blaze’s presentation on the large screen, but his eyes were unfocused, comprehending nothing. The vote of no-confidence was being held in a week. His future, in regards to his own company, would be determined and he was having difficulty caring. His encounter with Amy played on horrific loop in his mind, his self-flagellation taking precedence over everything else.

Not like this. Tears in her eyes, horror etched across her face. Not like this. Shadow squeezed his injured hand, sending a punishing, but wholly deserved, jolt of pain up his arm. He enjoyed having a tangible souvenir of his failure the previous night.

“Sir?”

His behavior had been reprehensible. Unhinged and violent, as if he’d not changed at all in the past ten years. As if all his efforts to bury that person he’d been were for nothing. The past had returned to haunt him in multiple ways. Perhaps it was truly time to pay for his sins. Or, he thought bitterly, to ignore them and harden his heart, finally taking a page from Father’s book.

“Mr. Kintobor, sir.”

Shadow blinked and focused on Blaze, who stared at him intently. “I’m sorry.” He offered. “Could you please repeat that?” Along the periphery of the large conference room, the gathered Kintobor Life Sciences employees shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent.

Blaze shared a look with Nicole, who had looked up from her tablet. Normally Nicole kept herself separate from his corporate affairs, but given the real threat that he might lose his position, she was present beside him to prepare for a potential transition. Shadow arched a brow at the exchange.

Shadow’s outburst the night prior hadn’t made it to the gossip rags yet. Be it from Nicole’s usual story silencing efforts or Breezie’s top-down machinations, he did not know. With a week left to go, however, there was little chance that he’d emerge from the event completely unidentified. Which meant Mother would know that he’d made a fool of Breezie (and, by extension, Irena), and his mother would claim the slight for herself several fold over.

He was going to lose the vote two to five. And if Shadow was going to lose for certain, then he’d have to convince Eclipse to vote against him as well for his brother’s own good. There was no reason to blemish his brother needlessly. If Shadow was on the out, he refused to take his brother with him.

Shadow would have one last chance to address the board and convince them to fuck off. Much of the department heads had come together to produce the presentation he’d have as supporting evidence. They had perhaps more to lose than Shadow, he reminded himself.

If he was ousted, the company would likely be wrenched in a completely new direction, one likely predominantly motivation by profit without context. Shadow had striven to staffed KLS with cause-driven optimists, many of whom would not thrive in an environment twisted to maximize shareholder return. What a terrible, shameful waste of potential.

Another black mark on Shadow’s record. How had it come to this? He felt like a trap had slowly closed around him until he was too strangled to escape. If he lost his responsibility as CEO, he’d have plenty of time to find Amy again. Focus, you fool!

Blaze cleared her throat. “Given that Mr. Black Kintobor has ceded his voting rights to Mrs. Kintobor, confirming her support would lock in a win for you, sir.” She flipped backward in the presentation with the control in her hand. He’d been spaced out for a while not it seemed. “However, should she choose to decline to vote in your favor, swaying two of the independent directors to your side would also construct a win. I would like to review potential options to do so.”

Shadow would miss Blaze. As KLS’s chief counsel, she’d been a firm, stable hand guiding his various ambitious projects through the firmament of reality. Hard working and dedicated to the vision with which he’d shaped the company, Shadow hoped that she would get along well with his successor. He certainly hoped that she wouldn’t do something so foolish as follow him into unemployment, especially given her upcoming nuptials.

Speaking of which, “Blaze, why are you doing prep with me right now?” Shadow frowned. “I believe I remember you had requested leave for this week ahead of your wedding.” It was a self-indulgent segway from the more important discussion, but Shadow had a number of privileges as everyone’s boss, of which dictating the topic of discussion was one.

Blaze smiled politely. “Yes, sir, you are correct. I had requested this week off, but that was before the current crisis developed.” He heard the gentle chide and attempt at returning him to the topic at hand. Shadow ignored it.

“I see.” He frowned. “I will prepare myself to receive your lovely fiancé’s condemnation when she catches me at the reception.” It was meant to be a lighthearted joke, but his tone was flat and dry. Shadow scolded himself. Everyone in the room relied on him and he was allowing his own personal melancholy to threaten potential victory. Disgustingly negligent and disrespectful of everyone’s time. The self-recrimination felt comfortable, familiar.

“You still mean to attend?” Blaze’s stoic lawyerly façade cracked for a moment, the real person she was seeping through. She sounded genuinely excited about his participation. Shadow could not understand why anyone would want his company. Perhaps Blaze wasn’t as perceptive as he had thought.

Her tone had a lifting effect on his mood. “Of course.” But we can’t have that. “That is, as long as you still want me to.” Shit, he shouldn’t have raised the question in front of so many people. There was no way she’d refuse even if she desperately wanted to. Great…just great, Shadow.

Blaze chuckled. “If I changed the seating chart or attendees list this close to the event, Tikal would have the divorce papers drafted. I’m afraid you’ve little choice but to attend, sir.”

Shadow snorted. “I certainly do not wish to be party to such a quick separation.” Damn it, he was pretty sure Nicole had indicated Shadow would bring a plus one. Breezie has agreed to attend with him, but now…Shadow would need to come up with someone. Amy! Someone else…

“I can confirm we are of one mind there. Now, I’d like to return to the review.” Blaze indicated to the large screen. “I do not believe Mr. Mogul would disagree with the statement that he is nearly solely motivated by profit. The finance team has assembled a ‘greatest hits’ reel along with talking points regarding Mr. Mogul’s allegations of ‘leaving money on the table’.”

Shadow grimaced. “I hope the valuation of ‘good will’ and ‘brand’ is, if not reasonable, at least defensible.” One of Shadow’s selfish reasons for keeping KLA privately owned involved not having to deal with preparing and filing a yearly 10-K. That freedom meant he got avoid such asinine discussions regarding valuation and could focus on developing useful products.

The CFO, a dignified elderly hippopotamus, spoke up. “We worked with the customer service team to assemble data on customer loyalty.” Shadow had hired the white-haired gentleman for his credibility, fanatical devotion to understanding every change in the financial landscape, and staggeringly stubborn resistance to bending the rules even a little. That Shadow would inflict such a character on himself was yet another testament to his addiction to self-mortification.

“We’ve got a mountain of testimonies complaining about the Starline Pharma product.” The CMO, a tall ferret, added. “The work double dips because all of it is going into the complaint Legal is sending to the City Health Department. The number of old customers begging for us to regain the NHS contract is heartbreaking and there is significant circumstantial evidence that there is something, eh, ineffective about the Starline product.”

Now that had been a fun interview. What should have been a review of her experience and skills had devolved into a thorough tear down of the practice of modern marketing. The techniques, the cost, and the frustrating effectiveness of it. From there it became Shadow pitching KLS to her, somehow trying to convince her his products were worthy of her black magic skills.

“Further, we’ve got the poison pill scenario drawn up!” A finance analyst piped up, full of both excitement and nervousness. What the fuck!?

“Excuse me?!” Shadow rounded on the sheep and the young man shriveled. Of all the stupid fucking things! A poison pill? Really? His position afforded him unique access to the company’s inner workings and, should he feel especially vindictive, he could cripple the organization before he was escorted off the premises, effectively murdering KLS. There was no way that he’d wield his authority like that should he lose. Scuttle the ship and leave everyone in this room to drown?

The sheep’s neighbor, an ocelot, grimaced. She clenched her teeth trying not to curl her lips and covered her wrinkled nose. Not good. His rut was growing close enough that his strong emotions were scenting the air. The pheromones would be undetectable by the average Beta, but any Alphas would get riled and Omegas cowed.

“Sebastian,” The CFO glared at the analyst, “control yourself. That is not what it is!” “Sir,” The CFO turned to address Shadow. “We worked up the numbers for a potential transition scenario and the financial impact caused by the tumult, delays to current development projects, and the cost of a rigorous search for your successor. The direct cost to the bottom line just to replace you.”

A threat was a threat was a threat. Shadow rubbed his face. He’d been far too distracted recently and hadn’t paid the proper attention to his subordinates. In general, he’d always trusted his team, but in this case the enthusiasm had led them in directions he didn’t care for. “Let’s take a break.”

“Very well, sir.” Blaze sighed. “Fifteen minutes, everyone.” She addressed the crowd of analysts and lawyers.

Nicole leaned towards him. “Can I get you anything, sir?” She asked.

“Coffee. Thank you.” She stood and Blaze followed her out of the room. Shadow leaned back in his plush conference room chair and closed his eyes.

Amy’s face dominated the inside of his eyelids. She inhabited his dreams, dwelt in his every thought, and lodged deep in the ravines of his heart. Every time his attention drifted, it sought her out. Of the many, many issues he needed to ruminate over, Amy’s image demanded top billing.

Not like this. Shadow’s jaw clenched. He had fantasized about his second encounter with Amy for weeks and yet had so thoroughly fucked it up. Not like this. Shadow couldn’t fault Amy in the slightest. What relationship could he expect to have started like that? Hunting her down like an animal, bodily harming the one she’d chosen to with that night. It was too much to ask for a third chance.

Shadow swallowed thickly and opened his eyes. He flexed his injured hand once more, drenching himself in clarifying pain. He was allowing himself to get distracted by things over which he had little control. It was time to focus on what he did have some command over.

He rotated the chair to face the floor to ceiling windows. Beyond was the stunning view of the city, resplendent even in the grey light of the cloudy late morning. Maybe it would rain later. They had had such a dry summer. He stood and approached. A few blocks away, the river cut its wide swath through the heart of the metropolis. A flurry of people swarmed the park along its banks, preparing the space for an upcoming festival.

Mogul. Acorn. Pickle.

Mammoth Mogul might be profit motivated, but Shadow’s father did far more business with Emerald Capitol than Shadow, so Mogul would vote like his father would, and his father had ceded his vote to Irena. Mogul wouldn’t care if KLA went under. He’d happily come in with the hatchet and sell the company in bloody parts.

Sally Acorn harbored a hatred for him personally. Any personal appeal was a non-starter. Perhaps Shadow could play into her ego in some grandiose way? The idea revolted him. She could be considered independent of Father’s will, but the amount of money it would take to sway her was better spent buying her seat from under her, and Shadow did not have the liquidity for either.

Professor Dillon Pickle was the easiest to flatter or buy. Donating enough money to his university to name a building after the prestigious Professor was easy enough. But without one of the others, useless to Shadow.

From the start, Mother had been the only relevant decider of his fate. Which begged the question, why the fuck was this happening at all? The trio of independent board members wouldn’t have started this mess unless they knew they were going to win.

Or…if they didn’t care about the outcome. If they won no matter which way the vote went.

Shadow narrowed his eyes. A passenger boat floated slowly down the river. One of those autumnal foliage tours. Mother certainly didn’t need this level of complexity to fuck with Shadow and though Father wasn’t above any form of threat or manipulation, Shadow had not received an indication that he was involved. Black Kintobor made sure his victims were acutely aware of his involvement by the time the garrot sinched.

That left the three independent board members who, generally, didn’t really care for one another. What could they be getting out of making his life difficult? Shadow had made a number of enemies of varying strength over the year, but a scheme this convoluted and tailored to maximized wasteful expenditures was the realm of only one. Gerald Robotnik. First Infinite and now this. Shadow chewed the inside of his cheek. Why all of this now?

The break ended and Shadow sat again. Nicole placed an elegant white ceramic mug in front of him. The deep aroma lifted the liquid’s surface like fog. Rich and earthy, Nicole had gone up the three levels to his office into his personal cache of coffee beans. He wrapped his injured hand around the mug and felt the intense heat through his glove. The lacerations, dressed tightly to fit under his normal gloves, throbbed.

Nicole glanced at his hand holding the cup and knitted her brow in concern. “Sir?”

“Let’s get back into it.” Blaze addressed the conference room. “Princess Sally Acorn manages many charitable efforts for the Royal Family in the Kingdom of Acorn. Her vote may be gained by emphasizing the impact KLS has had on disadvantaged demographic groups.

Shadow had a different topic in mind. “Do any of the independent board members have ties to Robotnik Industries or one its subsidiaries?”

Blaze blinked and frown. “I don’t believe we’ve followed that line of inquiry. Why do you ask?”

Shadow drummed his fingers on his coffee mug. “I have suspicion I’d like ruled out.”

“Could you please explain your suspicion, sir?” Blaze’s tone was cordial, but Shadow was detecting a growing frustration.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that Acorn would bring forward such a motion when KLS is perfectly solvent?”

“Sir-“ Blaze began.

“Sir!” An analyst exclaimed, holding up his cellphone. “I’ve found a press release about a power company owned by ROCC building a large solar power array in the Kingdom of Acorn.”

Shadow twisted in his chair to face the analyst. “Good job.” Hopefully his direct display of approval would protect the young man from his direct manager’s wrath later. Shadow returned his attention to Blaze and arched a brow. “That’s a start. Keep looking.”

“Sir,” Blaze deadpanned, her face and voice flat and professional. “Even if ROCC is somehow lobbying the board members to oust you, that is not illegal. Perhaps you could establish grounds for a civil suit, but the vote will go on unaffected.”

“I am aware.” Shadow confirmed, “But I’m still the CEO for at least the next week. I would like a complete report by Friday.” He raised the cup to his lips and took a shallow sip. He really liked the farm that produced this brew. Maybe if he lost KLS, he’d buy that farm and make coffee. Less regulation to deal with. “Please continue.” He nodded to Blaze. She glanced at Nicole again, but returned to her presentation.

The session went on for several hours further, but Shadow did not pay much attention. Each time his thoughts bucked and ran for Amy, he squeezed the coffee cup and let the stabbing pain bring him back to rationality. Nothing that Blaze or the others prepared would help at all, but he didn’t want to dismiss the efforts of his team.

If the independent board members were compromised by Robotnik, no amount of logical explanation would change their votes. Mother was the one he needed to convince…And fuck if he knew what to do about that.

He could give her the rose garden. Never! Shadow squeezed the cup, punishing himself for the terrible thought. His face remained placid, but his brow started to perspire. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a few employees sniffing the air and grimacing. Damn it. Had he forgotten to take his blocker that morning?

Since the whole business with Amy had started, the suppressants he’d been taking had started to turn his stomach. He suspected the reaction was psychosomatic, but he’d still skipped a few days, undermining the medication’s effectiveness.

Amy. Everything always came back to Amy.

Shadow squeezed the coffee cup harder.

---

“You look like shit, buttercup.” Liam looked vaguely concerned as he handed her the red coffee cup. “Bad weekend?” They leaned against the warehouse security shack, watching a misty drizzle blanket the empty parking lot. The parched earth getting some long needed moisture. Sundown hit earlier each day and already the sky was dimming. Over half of Liam’s shift was after nightfall now.

Amy smiled softly as she took a slow sip. Today’s coffee was sweet and had a floral accent she couldn’t place. “Yeah,” She huffed, “Bad weekend.” Rarely did she cry herself asleep two nights in a row. *Shadow…*Amy cringed, willing the Alpha out of her thoughts lest she start tearing up again. She couldn’t stop her chest from hurting, though.

Liam adjusted his hat and took out a fresh packet of cigarettes. “Ah…you wanna…talk about it or some shit?” He tapped the side of the packet and bit the longest end to emerge, pulling it out with his teeth.

What was there to say? That she was obsessed with the guy she’d had a hormone drunk one night stand with? That he was just as relieved and overjoyed to see her as she was to see him, but then he chased her and her date down a flight of stairs like a madman? How part of her wanted to see what Shadow would have done to Barry? That the thought of someone willing to kill for her was shamefully erotic? How horrified she’d been of everything, most of all her desperate, heartbreaking need to have Shadow with her, on her, in her?

“No.” Amy stared across the vacant parking lot at the phalanx of bare trees by the river. “No, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Liam flicked his lighter a few times before it lit. He took a drag and released a long stream of smoke. “Great, cuz I never really got that touchy feely stuff, lemon drop. What’s the point a’ talking about shit that’s already happened?” He offered the packet to her.

“No thanks.” Amy waved it away. “You’re not supposed to bottle stuff up. It’s because you are your past and the more you understand it, the more control you have over your future.” Ten years ago, her parents’ insurance had only covered a few therapy sessions, but Amy still remembered some of the advice. Most of it sounded like bullshit at the time, but as she got older, new meaning seemed to creep into every platitude like mold through aged cheese. Ah, so this is what wisdom feels like.

Liam hummed, “You read that off the back of a cereal box or something?”

Amy snorted. “Might as well have, I guess.”

“So,” He took another drag, “you must want to talk about it then.” He leered at her, polychromatic eyes twinkling.

Amy sighed. “No, I really don’t.”

“Hypocrite.” He chuckled.

“Guilty as charged.” Amy pressed her arms closer as a breeze blew a chill through her light jacket.

Liam side-eyed her, cigarette pinched between his lips. “Where’s your regular coat, snowball?”

She took another sip of the latte. Her brow furrowed at the taste. “What is this?”

“Oh, uh, it’s just that standard flowery one. Tastes like shit to me,” He shrugged, “but I figured you might dig it, cream puff.”

Kraken Koffee’s signature flavor: the Lavendar Latte. Amy’s grip tightened on the cup. “You’re right…” She said, “I do dig it.” Amy felt the warmth through her thick winter gloves. The red cup with its black logo smelling of coffee and lavender. She held a miniature Shadow, but she could delude herself with the abstraction that it was the Shadow that had been living in her imagination the past weeks. The one she could trust herself with. Amy couldn’t ever be near the real one again.

With monumental effort, Amy had resisted telling Shadow not to leave. All her will was required to not scream for him to come back as he retreated out of sight. The only saving grace was that Shadow had listened to her. He’d broken out of his aggressive posture, and she’d caught a glimpse of the kind-hearted gentleman again. Amy almost wished he’d stayed a monster or said something reprehensible. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so conflicted. Maybe she’d wouldn’t want to tear her heart out and hand it to a monster.

Barry had been pretty freaked out, but they still saw her down to the lobby. Amy hadn’t stopped sobbing. She shivered while they waited for Barry’s car to be retrieved by the valet, her coat forgotten up in the penthouse coat check and her cardigan dropped somewhere. Amy only had the one winter coat…so that was something she’d need to replace sooner rather than later. Maybe Rouge or Vector would give her an advance on her next paycheck. She was already in the hole enough to Vanilla.

“Oh!” Amy fished in her bag. “I got something for you from my herbalist.” She retrieved a small wax paper wrapped package, Vanilla’s elegant handwriting coating it.

“Herbalist or herbalist?” Liam grinned as he took the offered present.

Amy needed to change the subject quickly. Beta’s didn’t need kitchen witches giving them teas to ward off the symptoms of heat. “Which one makes teas for period cramps?”

“Forget I asked! Fuck!” He grimaced and Amy laughed at him.

Amy took another drink. She hated how the lavender flavor calmed her. “Anyway,” Amy tried to imitate Liam’s earlier leer, “she said this was good for ruts.”

He examined the package. “Not going to lie to you, muffin top, but that looks pretty suspiciously like weed.”

Amy shrugged. “Maybe it is. Are you a narc?” She snickered.

Liam laughed, nearly losing his grip on his cigarette. “Thanks, though I doubt it’ll help.” He reached through the door of the shack and slipped the packet into his satchel. “I’m too far gone for woo-woo shit to work.”

Amy felt a desire to defend Vanilla, but at the same time, she couldn’t really speak to the efficacy. “Your rut is next week, right? Give it a try. You never know, right?”

Liam looked at her strangely and Amy frowned. She normally found scrutiny unnerving, but it felt like he was looking past her somehow. “Yeah, I will, sugar cookie.” He said quietly and Amy felt her face flush.

“S-So, which days will you be out next week. You know, so I don’t come out here for nothing.”

“The whole week.” Liam stated flatly.

“The whole week?!” The worst heat Amy ever had lasted three days. Three days of abject horny hell, but only three days. The thought of being stuck like that for an entire week gave her chills.

“Yeah and, like, I’d prefer you stay away from my place, if you don’t mind.” He looked at her pointedly. “I guess you can camp outside, but don’t come calling or anything. I don’t…I don’t want you to see me like that.”

He didn’t need to tell Amy twice. A rutting Alpha’s sense of smell was about the strongest in existence. No amount of scent suppressants could fully protect Amy if Liam caught a whiff of her. “Sure, of course.” She swallowed. “But a whole week?” That felt…unreal.

Liam shrugged. “It is what it is. I don’t know how much you know about this kinda stuff, but ruts get longer overtime if you’re not getting any, if you know what I mean. There’s probably some sciencey shit to explain why.”

“It’s probably the breeding instinct.” Amy recounted absently. “Longer ruts means more chances to fertilize. Omegas have something similar, where heats get longer and more debilitating. Gives Alphas more chances to find them and knock them up.”

“You got some sorta fetish?” Liam sneered. “That’s a lot of weird shit for a Beta to know.”

Amy flinched. “My brother is an Omega.” She blurted out quickly.

Liam cackled at her flustered response. “Geeze, calm down, biscuit, I was just teasing. God damn! The look on your face!”

Amy swallowed and tried to will her racing heart to slow. “A whole week has got to be terrible.” Amy tried to steer the conversation back the way they’d come.

Liam sobered. “Yeah…my new roommate is about to hate my guts. I got a good lock on the outside of my door but I’m going to tear that drywall the fuck up.”

Amy frowned. “Aren’t there rut sedatives? That sounds like you could get a script for something strong.”

Liam snorted. “Can’t afford em’.” He tossed his cigarette butt on the ground and snuffed it with his boot.

“I’m sorry.” Amy felt a tinge of guilt. She was always so focused on her own struggles, she often forgot there were untold number of people dealing with the same troubles.

“Don’t be, jellybean. It’s going to be the best rut I’ve had in ten years.” Liam looked out at the damp world and smiled. “No more chains. No more getting hosed down. No more getting tranq when I tear myself up too much.” With every declaration, his smile grew and grew until he was beaming as if each notion was newly discovered.

Amy covered her mouth in horror. “That’s horrible!”

Liam laughed and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing you’ll ever have to deal with.” His smile started to dim.

“But still!” Amy looked away and hugged herself. She didn’t understand how things like that could be allowed to happen. Yes, he was a convicted felon, but he was still a person!

“Amy.” Liam looked at her seriously. “It’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it. This is my life now that she’s gone.”

She? Amy frowned then remembered. “Your Omega.”

“Yeah…”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what does it feel like not having your Omega? Like day to day?” Amy searched Liam’s face.

His mismatched eyes stared down at the smoking crusted butt. “Shit, snickerdoodle...”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.“ Amy quickly back pedaled. “Forget I asked. Sorry-“

“It feels like I died,” Liam cut her off, like he needed to get the words out before he lost his nerve, “And I’m just a ghost possessing a limp sack of shit. Nothing tastes good or feels right. Every night ends with a flush of panic before I pass out. Like I’m circling a massive void, just wasting time.”

Amy frowned, “Why don’t you reach out to her?”

“Can’t.” He replied simply, clipped.

If he was feeling that bad, wouldn’t she want to know about it? That was the stereotype, right? Bound pairs hated being separated. “It’s been a long time, maybe she’ll-“

“I can’t, Amy! God damn, just-“ He quieted and looked away. “She’s not…fuck, just…I can’t, okay?”

A revelation struck Amy and filled her with guilty horror. Liam couldn’t talk to his Omega because no one could. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I-I hadn’t realized.”

“I don’t need your pity.” He growled.

Amy’s ears instinctually pinned back meekly and she took a step back. “Maybe I should go…”

“No!” Liam startled. “I mean…fuck.” Liam eye’s darted around, “Uh, you wanna see inside?” He indicated the warehouse with a thumb.

Curiosity pricked her and Amy chose to indulge it rather than entertaining her reflexive fear. “Am I allowed to?”

Liam chuffed, “Are you gonna do something to make them check the cameras?” Amy shook her head in the negative. “Then are you coming or not?”

Amy wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the warehouse wasn’t special in the slightest. A massive box of building filled with tall metal structures that acted like shelves for pallets of cardboard boxes wrapped tightly in plastic. Row after row of these racks, every pallet the exact same. Amy’s sneakers squeaked over the polished concrete floor.

“You better not fall or anything. I’ll deny I let you in here.” Liam’s ceramic, slip resistant work boots didn’t squeak as loudly.

Amy scanned the rows and rows of metal racks. “What is all of it?”

Laim shrugged. “Drugs or something.”

“Right,” Amy looked at his hat. “You work for Starline Pharma, right?”

Liam shook his head. “No, I work for Badnick Security who contracts with whoever owns this place.” He crossed his arms and frowned at the floor. “Starline, I guess, but both companies are owned by Robotnik whatever the fuck limited or something.”

“That sounds complicated.” Amy’s eyes continued to wander the aisles. How many pallets? How many boxes per pallet? How many whatevers inside each box?

“You don’t know the half of it. My paychecks are signed by-“ He stopped. “You know what? That doesn’t matter.” He followed her as she wandered.

Amy scanned the tags attached to each pallet of boxes. The white label was jumble of letters and numbers with a bar code. As her eyes slid from label to label, Amy’s hand absently touched her camera hanging on the strap around her neck. Just as she was about to turn around and return down the aisle, her brow quirked.

Every pallet had the same lot code. Was that normal? “Is there anything else in here?”

“Naw.” Liam shook his head. “Just the one product. Nothing new comes in and about a cubed-out truck of this stuff leaves once a week or so.” He adjusted his cap again. “Mostly on the day shift, but occasionally I have to do the weight in.”

Amy pointed at a label. “Every box has the same lot code.”

“Uh, sure, I guess.” He shrugged. “Is that weird or something?” Amy frowned. She wasn’t sure.

Amy walked several rows over and entered a random aisle. All the same, every pallet. She knew pharmaceuticals were made in large batches so maybe this was common? Sonic would probably know. Something was nagging the back of her mind, though. This felt important.

Pushed tightly against the edge of one of the racks was a pile of trash. Dust and carboard shreds mostly, but something colorful caught Amy’s eye. The closer she got the more familiar the torn-up box looked. Amy bent down and picked it up. It was the ripped up remains of the garish box her daily heat suppressants came in.

“Gross, girl.” Liam teased.

Amy held out the torn-up box towards Liam. “Where did this come from?”

“I dunno. Some forklift driver must have clipped a pallet with the lift tines and tore up some product. Shit, what do they call that…” He gesticulated vaguely. “Spoilage? Breakage?”

Amy dropped the package back into the trash pile. She felt the weight of something growing in the back of her mind. A bundle of connections slowly forming, but too blurry to make out yet. She looked down the aisle. Pallets and pallets of hormonal suppressants, all with the same lot code…which means they were all made at the same time, right? Would Starline Pharma have other warehouses? Didn’t they make other drugs? Why keep only the hormonal suppressants here?

Liam tilted his head. “What, you recognize this stuff?”

Amy flinched. “No, not at all!” She lied. “I just thought the box was pretty is all.”

Liam arched a brow, incredulously. “Sure.”

Amy needed to change the subject quickly. “I dumped my boyfriend. T-that was why my weekend sucked.” She stuttered. She didn’t want to remember the disappointment on Barry’s face, but she sure didn’t want to talk about why she recognized the box Omega heat suppressant came in. “Or, I don’t know what we were. We only went on one date, and it was a disaster.”

“O-oh.” Liam looked away awkwardly. “Sorry, I guess. I’m sure he was an asshole.”

Amy sighed. “I think they were the sweetest Alpha I’ve ever met.”

“Look at you punching above your weight class.” Amy’s face flushed when she realized her slip up. God, what was wrong with her today? “Sounds like a limp dick pussy though, letting you dump him.” Luckily Liam didn’t seem to pick up on the implication, thank god. “No proper Alpha would take that sorta shit off a Beta. Uh, no offense, ginger snap.”

Amy laughed nervously. “None taken.”

“Anyway, he sounds stupid as fuck. You’ll find someone else who’ll treat you right.” Then he added, softer, “You deserve that.”

“T-thanks.” Suddenly, Amy’s phone rang. She pulled it from her coat pocket and frowned at the unfamiliar number. “Excuse me.” She stepped away from a bewildered Liam and answered.

“Amy?” Came the familiar voice.

“Blaze?” Amy was momentarily surprised, but then remembered she’d given Blaze her phone number. “Is something wrong?” Sonic had spent the night of Amy’s ill-fated date with Silver. Frankly, that was for the best because Amy was really not in the mood to explain why she was crying her eyes out for the second night in a row.

“No, nothing is wrong.” Blaze’s voice was low, like she didn’t want to be overheard. “I called to see if you are available this coming weekend.”

Amy blinked. “What?”

“I was looking through your portfolio on Promptagram and saw some of your wedding photographs. Between those and the action shots you got of Sonic, I was hoping you’d be perfect for shooting candids for my wedding this weekend.”

“You’re getting married? Congratulations!” Amy exclaimed on reflex.

“Thank you.” Blaze perfunctorily. “Are you available?”

“Yes, yes, I’m totally available.” Amy’s smile faltered. “But…can I ask why?” Amy felt she hadn’t exactly left the best impression, especially after screaming at Blaze not to touch her.

There was a pause. “Because my other photographer pulled out and I thought your work was exceptional?” Blaze sounded confused.

“No, I mean…why would you want to hire me after…how things ended at the crepe shop.” Amy cringed, remembering the blubbering mess she had been. “I-I’m so sorry about that, by the way…I just- I just had gotten some upsetting news and I was…well-”

“Amy,” Blaze cut her off, “please do not worry. I don’t believe in judging people by their worst days.”

Amy blinked. Her eyes stung, tears of relief threatening to fall. How could such a simple statement absolve her of so much? “That is very understanding of you. Thank you for the second chance. Of course, I would love to help you capture your big day on film, Blaze”

“Wonderful. I’ll send you the details shortly.” Blaze sounded like she wanted to end the call.

Amy frowned. “Wait, don’t you want to know my rates?”

“I’m sure they’re more than reasonable. Now,” Her words grew more clipped. “you must excuse me. The break is drawing closed, and I need to return to my meeting.”

“O-okay.” The line went dead. Amy looked at her phone, in mild shock. Her luck, at least so far as her income was concerned, had been strangely good recently. Perhaps it was some karmatic balance imposed by the universe so that it could shove her into the deepest depths of despair with a clear conscience. Lucky in money, miserable in love. Perfectly balanced.

Amy would be able to afford a new coat and cover rent this month, she realized. She felt a smile twitch against her cheeks. The motion felt foreign after the misery of the past few days. She laughed. One huffing expulsion. What a comedy her life had become. Amy rubbed at her face.

When she returned to Liam, he noted her smile. “Just a little good luck for once.” She gave as explanation. He didn’t press. There wasn’t much else to see in the warehouse, so the pair quickly found themselves back under the eaves of the security shake.

“Do you regret it?” Amy asked out of the blue.

“You’re gonna have to narrow it down, peaches.” Liam laughed. “I regret a ton of shit.”

Amy had to know. It wasn’t a fair question, she knew. It was terribly selfish. But She. Had. To. Know. “Claiming your Omega.” Liam fell still. Amy knew it was a very personal question, and she didn’t deserve any answers. Even if things ended badly, was it worth it? She had to know. “I’m sorry I keep prying. I’ve just…I guess getting to know you has really made me curious about what it’s like to be bound like that. It seems intense and…painful.”

“No. I never regretted it, not for a second.” He answered finally. “If I was gonna do anything different, I’d have taken her far, far away from everything I was caught up in. Go live a quiet life in the woods or on a beach or something.” His gaze grew soft and his countenance relaxed. “Nothing fancy…just us together. That would have been enough.”

Liam face harden into a snarl and Amy felt her hackles rise, “Or I’d have killed that bastard when I had the chance. I never should have trusted the system to dispense justice, but I was young, fucking stupid, and aggrieved. If I knew I was going to do time, I would have wanted it to be for the right reason.”

Amy swallowed. Liam wasn’t shy about mentioning his past, but he always left out crucial details. Who he’d tired to kill. Why he’d done it. She had asked Vector, but the crocodile had told her to not poke the bear. Liam huffed. “Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear.”

Amy looked away. “It is…even if it’s kinda off-putting, I like that you’re honest. You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”

“Not anymore.” He answered flatly.

“Hmm?” Amy looked at the jackal’s face.

Liam glared at the pavement. “I’m not afraid anymore. I’ve got nothing left to lose.” He snorted, mirthlessly.

Amy hugged herself. “I’m sorry if I’m bring back bad memories.”

“No,” He shook his head, “it’s fine. My memories of her are really my happiest, bittersweet as they are now. I’ve gotten older, but she stays the same. Young and gorgeous and pure. She was an artist, you know. Her work was so amazing. I-I could never even-“ He swallowed. “She was going to go to school and get better. Said everything was beautiful. I didn’t get it at all. Still don’t. How can the world be beautiful if she’s not in it.”

Amy felt guilty for asking. “She sounds nice.” She offered lamely.

“She was the best thing that ever happened to me.” His voice trembled. “The best thing that will ever happen to me. And you- you…remind me-” Liam turned away. “Look, sugarsnap, I-I got, like, work shit to do.” He sniffed loudly and rubbed at his face.

“Oh.” Amy stepped away. “I’ll let you get back to it, sorry.”

He did not turn to see her off but held up hand in a wave. “Catch you later, Amy.”

Amy shivered as the drizzle slowly soaked through her light jacket. The walk back to the bus stop was long and lonely, but she had plenty of thoughts to accompany her. Try as she might, the image of Shadow’s face on the stairwell kept returning. The pain and anguish as she pushed him away, mirroring her own. Her memory of her own emotions was a blur. Sadness and excitement and terror and lust and anger and elation. She’d forced the maelstrom on both of them.

Blaze’s words returned. I don’t judge people on their worst day. On Amy’s worst day, Shadow had embraced her and, on his, she had pushed him away. She clenched her jaw, but the tears returned nonetheless.