Cause Ωf Death (Femme Fatale Freakshow)

Chapter 8

T he instant I slide out from underneath Kieran Prince’s door and observe his suite, I know that I’ve been lied to. Not just me, but the Guild as well. This man isn’t some sort of criminal mastermind, preying on the most vulnerable in our society and then inducting them into a way of life no decent person would condone. No, if anything he is the victim, and of the worst kind of betrayal possible.

Kieran Prince is an omega. If the mounds of cushions and bean bags scattered throughout the cavernous room aren’t a dead giveaway, then the enormous blanket fort built into one corner of the room is. And if those two indications aren’t blatant enough, then Kieran Prince’s appearance and behavior cements his designation.

In one corner of the room a wooden balcony extends out of the wall about five feet off the floor. A low railing encloses the space, only opening for the set of narrow stairs leading up to what looks like the most perfect reading nook a person can ask for. Bookshelves line the walls, leaving the rest of the space open. A large bean bag is tucked in one corner and a desk faces out and overlooks the room. There are more items dotted about, but beyond a cursory glance I don’t pay much attention to the layout.

No, my attention is reserved for what lies beneath .

Blankets spill down over the sides of the balcony, draped in such a way that they block out most of the room and the light beaming through the windows. The interior space isn’t dark, though. No. Tiny fairy lights have been attached to the rafters and supports of the platform, and by their soft light I can make out other blankets falling from narrow railings mounted high beneath the balcony. Shelves jut down from the rafters between the blanket walls, holding an assortment of candles, more pillows and blankets, various sex toys, books, and handheld games. An enormous mattress takes up the floor, and piled high along the edges of the bed are pillows and blankets, creating a perfect hollow in the center. Nestled in that hollow and bundled up like a burrito is my target.

I drift over to the blanket fort and hover in the opening, eyeing my prey with a blend of curiosity and bewilderment. Anybody with a working brain would figure out the moment they laid eyes on Kieran that what he’s being accused of is blatantly false. There has never, in the history of known designations, ever been an omega who has hurt children. We are hardwired to bear them, nurture them, and above all protect them, enough that even a feral alpha will think twice about coming between an omega and a child, no matter their relationship.

The entire fort is redolent with the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and orange, and it makes me nostalgic for the years I spent in the orphanage. Every holiday season, the leaders would bend over backwards to make it memorable for us kids, doing their best to provide us with every holiday stereotype we could imagine. I’d always enjoyed trimming the tree while a pot full of mulled wine or spiced oranges simmered merrily away over an open fire.

The omega burrito moves and another wave of holiday scent smacks me in the face. I watch with avid attention as he unfurls himself, throwing the blanket off and away from his body. He crawls out of the fort—his version of a nest, I guess—and stretches, allowing me to take him in.

Kieran Prince is slender, delicate almost, his skin porcelain pale and almost translucent in the light. While he’s not short like me, neither does he tower like Henley, Steve, or Adam. In fact, I’ll be very surprised if he matches Leslie’s height. I think he might be a tad shorter.

Dark brows and long, sooty lashes frame yet another giveaway of Kieran’s designation—gold eyes. Every omega I’ve ever encountered either has gold or violet eyes, and I’m no exception to that rule. I tend to wear colored contacts during my everyday life to conceal my true nature, not that I need the visual assistance. They’re for cosmetic purposes only.

There’s something ethereally… pretty about Kieran Prince, an aura that makes you want to coddle and protect him, to do anything that will make him smile. Part of it is his appearance, but a lot of it is likely due to the omega pheromones we all unconsciously pump out. Normies don’t tend to react to them all that much, as they don’t have the sensory abilities to discern or decode their meaning. Other designations, though? Our pheromones are a road-map to what we are, and how to best navigate our moods when in our company.

I continue to observe Kieran as he greets Adam, and then follow them both to the kitchen. While they’re having their morning cup of tea, I take the opportunity to further explore the penthouse, mentally salivating over the space. There are another two enormous bedrooms with their own attached bathrooms, two additional powder rooms, a fully contained laundry, butler’s pantry, and even a home gym with yet another attached bathroom with a king-size shower instead of a tub. I’m surprised to find an interior stairwell leading to the floor below, but I don’t venture down there. I don’t want to lose track of Kieran or Adam, not when I’ve got the perfect opportunity to observe them both.

My biggest surprise regarding the penthouse apartment comes when Kieran decides to get dressed. I float in his wake, my mind reeling over the opulence of his personal bathroom and closet.

The primary bathroom would fit my entire bedroom, bathroom, and walk-in closet combined inside, and sitting in pride of place in the center of the room is an enormous freestanding whirlpool tub. Chrome gleams amidst the polished marble, and part of me would love to reform right here and now and utilize the luxury at my fingertips. Unfortunately, I have a job to do, and being distracted by all the pretties is not part of it.

I drift through to Kieran’s closet as he starts to strip, giving him the privacy he deserves while he’s showering. I might be crossing multiple boundaries by being here without his knowledge or permission, but I’m an assassin, not a creeper.

The dimensions of the walk-in closet make me suspect it was once an attached bathroom. It’s also large enough to contain a double bed plus nightstands. Kieran’s natural scent lingers here, but not as strongly as in and around his blanket nest. I suspect he either uses a scent-removing washing powder for his laundry, or he might use a neutralizer or blocker instead of cologne when he dresses. His wardrobe, while containing quite a few high-end suits and a large number of items that would have Leslie salivating over them all, appears to primarily consist of worn band and graphic T-shirts. He also has a large collection of enormous hoodies, fitted jeans, and either black or gray sweatpants. This is an omega who prizes comfort over conformity, especially when it comes to his appearance.

Omegas, while not rare, are the least common of the designations. Betas form the bulk of the percentage who ascribe to the various classes at around seventy-five percent, the numbers fairly evenly spread across the sigma, delta, and gamma population. Roughly fifteen to twenty percent of the remaining population are alphas, with omegas taking up the rest. Out of that five to ten percent, the vast majority of omegas are female or female presenting. Male and male presenting omegas are considered unicorns, and treated accordingly, netting their pick of the litter when it comes to courting packs.

Unless they happen to be Kieran Prince.

I exit Kieran’s closet and wait for him to leave, hovering outside the short hallway connecting his “bedroom” with his dressing area. The moment he steps out the door, I extend a tendril and latch on to his shoulder. He can’t feel a thing, but I’m stuck to him firmer than glue. While it goes against the plan I’d set up with Leslie last night, I don’t want to lose the opportunity to spy on Kieran and hopefully learn more about him and the situation at hand. Leslie can yell at me later, but knowing them, they’ll agree with me. They even said as much in the car on the way here. Steve and Henley, on the other hand?

Best not to tell them at all.