The Omega Nanny Read online

Page 23


  “All right, stand over here if you want to gawp a bit,” said Robert, amused at his son, and pulled Ethan to the side, where they stood against a wall, more or less out of the way. Robert busied himself with checking his phone – undoubtedly reassuring himself of directions to their destination – while Ethan stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, a veritable country bumpkin in the city for the first time in his life.

  Ethan almost felt like a country bumpkin. He suspected he looked like one, too, staring at the station around them.

  Or rather, at the people. And oh, God, there were so many people. Men in suits and ties, women in dresses and skirts, alphas in their bright colors and determined steps, betas with amused glances and distracted airs, and once in a while, omegas in their greys and tans. All crowded together and paying no attention to each other in the slightest. Paying no attention to him, either, just going about their day as they presumably did every day, as if their days didn’t include momentous, life-changing events.

  Ethan watched as they streamed this way and that. He wondered why they stood in the long lines for one coffee stand when another coffee stand had no customers at all. He watched two alphas argue, laughing, gesticulating wildly, while their omegas stood behind, shyly looking at each other but saying nothing. He watched a beta nanny walk briskly through the benches, her charges following her like ducks, all of their heads held high with chins in the air.

  And the smell. Ethan’s nose, like all omegas, was good at picking out a scent, but after twenty years of the same familiar smells, he’d forgotten what it was like to scent something new. The station’s scent was almost overwhelming: rich and thick like pudding, thin and sharp like motor oil, all the familiar and unfamiliar scents that Ethan both did and did not recognize. Coffee and sugar and cleaning fluids, the round undertones of people crammed into a small place, with faint whiffs of the individuals who walked briskly by, sending brief waves of their individual scent as they went.

  Ethan couldn’t decide if the combination was delicious or horrific. He wanted to keep breathing it in until he’d made up his mind. School had been bad, once they’d all started presenting, but there’d been perhaps two hundred students, all told. This was something else altogether.

  And then he caught sight of them – just to the side. The bright happy smile of an omega woman, her face flooded with joy as her alpha mate stepped through the doorway from the train Ethan and Robert had ridden. The indulgent smile on her beta companion, who took a step back as the couple embraced, their noses pressing into each other’s necks in a public display of affection and bond affirmation that made Ethan blush. When the couple pulled apart, the omega was pink-cheeked and shy, her eyes lowered as if she was a bit embarrassed by their brazen behavior, and her companion laughed along with the alpha, as the alpha nuzzled her hair, and then pulled her along, chatting amicably with the beta, obviously eager to continue their homecoming in private, but content for the moment to catch up on the news.

  Ethan watched them go, the odd twist of uncertainty rising again in his stomach. It wasn’t the affectionate greeting between long-lost lovers – his first meeting with Antonio wouldn’t be like that, of course not. Not today. Maybe not even in a week or two. That was affection borne from years of being together, of a life lived and shared together. If Ethan were lucky, he’d have that someday.

  It was the beta, really, that gave Ethan pause. The way she was the one who spoke with the alpha, as the omega held herself back, half a step behind, without joining their conversation.

  “I think I have it now,” said Robert briskly, as he slid his phone back in his coat pocket. “Ten minutes walk. Or we could take a cab?”

  The idea of being bundled into a cab, with only a quick glimpse of the city itself, smacked so much of overprotective, that Ethan stiffened almost involuntarily. It shouldn’t have done; Robert was hardly the stereotypical overprotective alpha father, and Ethan knew that the suggestion hadn’t been meant because he wanted to keep Ethan from the world, but because he wanted to spare tired feet from the concrete sidewalks.

  “I can walk,” said Ethan, and Robert chuckled indulgently.

  They began to wind their way through the crowd to the entrance. Robert seemed somewhat distracted as he glanced continuously at the signs pointing the way, each suggesting a different exit for a different destination. “Don’t want to miss a minute of the city, do you?”

  “Don’t know when I’ll get another chance,” said Ethan quietly, catching sight of a group of omegas, all huddled together around a ticket kiosk, nervously pressing each button, as if they weren’t entirely sure what they were about. There wasn’t a beta or alpha in sight near them, though plenty of people were giving them wide berth and indulgent, almost pitying looks.

  Robert stopped, right in the center of the room, to look at Ethan with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ethan couldn’t meet Robert’s eye. “It’s not like we’ve signed the contract yet. He could take one look and decide I’m not what he wants after all. Or….”

  “Or…?” prodded Robert.

  “How many omegas do you see by themselves here?” Ethan demanded. “Maybe it’s true, maybe city omegas are only allowed out with an escort. Sure looks like it anyway.”

  Robert snorted and rolled his eyes. “Five minutes in the city and he’s an expert. Give me a little credit, Ethan. Do you really think so little of me that I’d bond you to an alpha who will lock you up and never let you go? This family isn’t like that. They’ve agreed to let you finish school, they’ve agreed that you can perform after graduation. It didn’t even take an argument – do you really think if they were the type to guard your every move, they’d agree to rules like that?”

  “No,” said Ethan slowly. “But….”

  “But nothing,” said Robert firmly. “I didn’t raise you to be a wilting flower, and I don’t give a shit how city alphas treat their omegas, if they wrap them in cotton wool or let them swing naked from the flagpoles. If this boy doesn’t want you, then more fool him.” Robert took a step closer, and rested his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. It was warm, heavy, thick – a comforting weight that Ethan could remember from childhood, resting on his back after the dark of a nightmare, settling him back to sleep. “Ethan. You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want. We’ll find another way.”

  “There isn’t another way, Fa,” said Ethan softly, still scanning the station for omegas walking alone, and finding none. “If there was, we’d have figured it out months ago.”

  Robert made a frustrated noise. “Antonio Valdez would be a fool to reject you – but if you want to reject him, then I promise we’ll find another alpha, another city. Ethan, I’m your father. It’s my job to keep you safe. You have to trust me to do it.”

  Ethan looked up at the high, vaulted ceiling of the train station waiting room. The crowds flowed around them, a current of people and smells and destinations and desires. The kinetic and constant energy of the place ebbed and flowed around them, and he wondered, if the anchor of Robert’s hand let go of his shoulder, would he be caught up in the current and pushed downstream to the ocean.

  Salmon on their way to spawn, thought Ethan bitterly.

  Ethan thought about the sleepy little town he’d left behind that morning, two hours away by train, and his sleepy little life, where everyone knew him, and everyone held the same expectations of him.

  He’d never have the sleepy little life he’d grown up with again, no matter what happened. But Ethan had realized that weeks before, and no matter what Robert swore, there really were no other options for him.

  “I know, Fa,” said Ethan, because sometimes, his mother had always said, it was the omega’s job to let the alpha go on thinking they really could make everything well again, even when well was unreachable. “I really do.”

  He didn’t think Robert would buy it – but Robert nodded briskly, and turned to continue through the station. “Then let’s not keep him waiting.”

&nbs
p; * * *

  The air on the street was hot, a muggy wave that threatened to push Ethan back into the coolness of the train station, but the tide of people behind him, as well as Robert’s retreating back and assurance that Ethan was close behind, pulled Ethan on ahead.

  It wasn’t difficult to stay near Robert; as crowded as the sidewalk was, people seemed to make way for them, without once breaking stride or looking particularly put out. Ethan didn’t think they even noticed him, really, beyond what was clearly a standard assessing glance: Young Omega, with Alpha Father, and then they were back to their conversations and coffee and navigations.

  Robert walked briskly through the crowd, as if he knew exactly where he was going, had done it a thousand times before. Ethan followed, only giving his father’s progress as much attention as he could spare from the rest of the scenery. Everything was fascinating – a little bit like walking through a motion picture set. None of it felt real, not in the same way that walking along the street at home felt, as if he’d blink, and he’d suddenly wake up at home, the entire journey having taken place days or weeks before, and really was nothing more than a fond memory.

  It was the smell, more than anything, that made it less of a dream. The air smelled hot and stale, with occasional bursts as they walked past air conditioning ducts blasting acrid air onto the sidewalk. Whiffs of the passing musky alphas and crystal cool betas, the yeasty smell of baking bread from a bakery, the leafy scent of the tobacconist’s shop as they went by. Dreams didn’t smell anything like that – or at least, not all at once. So many sensory cues; Ethan didn’t wonder why he felt light-headed and removed. He would surely have a headache if he took in too much of it for too long.

  The buildings – the people – the traffic – the lights – the store signs and advertisements and bus bays and fire hydrants and… well… everything. It was busy and exciting and everything moved so fast and it was just as wonderful as Ethan had always thought it would be.

  Ten minutes was all it took for Ethan to fall in love with it.

  If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

  Before Ethan was used to the heat and the scent of the street, Robert turned down a quieter side-street, where the sidewalks were just as wide, but there were fewer pedestrians and only the occasional car. Trees dotted along the concrete, small ones barely larger than a very tall man, stunted from having to fight for sunlight and air with the tall buildings surrounding them, and each one ringed by metal fencing. Ethan breathed in as they passed, but instead of the familiar burst of oxygenated air that he was accustomed to smelling in heavily wooded areas, he only smelled the somewhat lessened scent of car exhaust and humanity.

  “Almost there,” said Robert, glancing up at the numbers on the buildings as they passed. “All right, Ethan?”

  “Yeah,” said Ethan, looking around. The buildings here were smaller, less grand than the opulent, shiny buildings on the main road. “It’s a lot quieter here.”

  “Residential area,” explained Robert. He glanced up at the building next to them and then nodded his head briskly before he began to go up the steps leading to the door. “Here it is.”

  Ethan almost stopped in his tracks. “Wait – are we going to his house?”

  Robert glanced over his shoulder. “I doubt he has a house in the city – he lives with his parents for now, though they’ve assured me he has an apartment which will be ready within a week. I think he wanted your input on design, apparently it’s unfinished. Ethan?”

  Ethan blinked and shook his head. “We’re going to their home?” he repeated, his heart now pounding with the change.

  Robert took a step closer. “I tried to convince them we’d be more comfortable in a neutral space, but… I guess this is the way they do things in the city. Maybe there just aren’t suitable places available.”

  “They don’t have restaurants?” Ethan took a breath. “All right. Just….”

  Ethan looked around, hungrily, taking in every last detail of the street he could. It was devoid of people, quiet except for the distant sound of traffic from the nearby main road, and sterile with concrete, brick, and mortar.

  And even with Robert’s assurances that his new family would let him take part in life, to finish his schooling and perform in public and everything he’d wanted when he still thought he had his own future… Ethan remembered the strange mix of people on the main streets, the alphas and betas who filled them, and the only occasional omega among them, skittish and self-conscious, and never, ever alone.

  How long would it take, if he were not careful, wondered Ethan, before he became just like them?

  “All right,” said Ethan finally, and followed his father up the steps.

  The lobby was cold, and after the heated scents of the city street, smelled stale and lifeless. It was dark, with potted plants and a single leather bench under a row of metal mail boxes, each marked with a number and a name.

  No doorman, but a concierge of some type sat at a desk on the far end of the lobby. She stood when Robert and Ethan entered, and her face had an odd sort of expression, as if she tried to hide the annoyance she felt at their intrusion and mask it with a friendly air. Her nostrils flared as she glanced at Ethan, which was clue enough that she knew what he was.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, with bored exasperation, and the edge to her voice indicated that despite the words, she really would rather have not lifted a finger.

  Robert took no notice, and walked confidently across the lobby. “We have an appointment with the Valdez family. The penthouse, at eleven.”

  The concierge’s eyebrow went up, and she glanced down at the notebook open on her desk. She shuffled a page, and this time when she looked up, it was directly at Ethan, scrutinizing him. Ethan swallowed, and thought he saw his own photo on her desk – the same one he’d included in his own profile for the bonding pools.

  “Mr. Downing, of course,” said the concierge smoothly, and reached into a drawer. “The elevator is located directly behind the mailboxes; you’ll need to use this card to access the penthouse. Please return it before you leave.”

  Robert took the offered keycard. “Thank you, Ms.—”

  The concierge blinked at him; Ethan could tell she was having trouble processing the question. “Tyler,” she finally said, and remained standing while they went around the corner to the elevator bay.

  Ethan couldn’t look at Robert; he stared up at the numbers above the elevator doors, watching them blink on and off as the elevator made its way down to the ground level to pick them up.

  This is it. I’m going to meet my alpha in just a few minutes. He’s in this building, upstairs, waiting. Is he pacing? Is he looking at his watch? Is he impatient? Bored? Was he watching out the windows to see when we’d arrive? Has he seen me already, when I didn’t see him?

  Does he feel as scared and anxious as I do?

  The elevator arrived with a ping; it was mirrored and quite luxurious inside. Ethan tried not to hyperventilate as the doors closed, and Robert slid the keycard into the slot; the P button automatically lit up. He glanced over at Ethan, who was pressed into a corner, staring resolutely at the numbers again.

  “The first time I met your mother,” said Robert, his voice thick and echoing in the small chamber, and then he broke into a grin that reflected a dozen times in the mirrored walls. “Well. You’re not the only one nervous of what’s on the other side of the door, son. That’s all.”

  “If you say so,” said Ethan, and Robert chuckled.

  “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

  Ethan managed to tear his gaze from the numbers to look at his father’s face. “You’re only meant to stay for an hour. Long enough to sign the contracts and ensure I’m… um, settled.”

  Robert scoffed. “Says who?”

  “That’s how it works, Fa. And your train leaves in two hours.”

  Robert shrugged. “Trains run all day. As long as I leave by suppertime, your mother won’t worry.”


  “They might not let you.”

  “There was a perfectly comfortable bench downstairs, and Ms. Tyler seems to be a lively conversationalist,” said Robert, and Ethan barked out a laugh. “Good. For a moment I thought you’d forgotten to pack your sense of humor.”

  “Fa….”

  “I will stay,” repeated Robert, in the tone Ethan long remembered being used for childhood scoldings and irritable store clerks, “as long as you want me to stay. Rules be damned. Understood?”

  Ethan’s throat was too thick and dry to speak. He nodded, biting his lips, and then the elevator doors opened onto a small foyer, with a single door opposite.

  The penthouse.

  The foyer was nondescript, clearly public property to the building, though there was a black wrought-iron table next to the door, topped with bright geometric tiles. An intricately hand-carved wooden box sat on top of the table, with the smiling figures of a man and woman on either side, facing each other. Ethan thought Robert would walk confidently up to the door and knock without pause – but the elevator doors closed behind them, and he heard the faint whirr of it descending back down the shaft to carry someone else before Robert even lifted his fist.

  “Fa?” asked Ethan gently.

  “In a moment,” said Robert, staring directly at the door. He was completely still, barely even breathing, and Ethan wondered why Robert was waiting. Maybe Ethan himself should be the one knocking on the door instead? It was disconcerting, to see Robert so completely still, when all morning, he had been moving steadily forward with great confidence and resolve, and now that they were nearly there, to wait….

  Just as Ethan realized that his father was actually nervous, Robert let out a shuddering breath – all the better to breathe in some courage – before he lifted his fist and knocked on the door.

  Like it? Read it on Amazon Kindle!

  The Omega Nanny

  Copyright © 2016 Penelope Peters