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"The kind of work that will get us out of this city," he says, determination in his voice. "I have some contacts who can get me ink for a synth mark--do you want one?"
I bite my lip, wondering if I do. It was my dream for so long--to get a synthetic mating mark and live mate-free my whole life--but I've heard that it's harder to pack up if you're already marked with synthetic pheromones. It's a hard decision to make.
And I just went through my heat...
...and I somehow found an alpha who's willing to help me, who kept me safe.
"Let's give it a day," I say, "but I think...I think I would. A mark would be nice."
Zane nods. "Okay. In that case...let me show you around the place, make sure you have all the exits handy. You know how to use a gun?"
My eyes widen. "Do you think that'll be necessary?"
"It might," he shrugs. "Some ACB agent was skulking around here yesterday--I want to make sure you're defended just in case he shows up again."
I nod, feeling a little bit uneasy. The last thing I want is to get involved in a firefight, especially considering my current state. But I also know that Zane is right--I need to be prepared for anything if I want to survive in Solstice Bay.
"Okay," I say, pushing away my plate of food. "Let's do it."
Zane leads me through the house, pointing out all the exits and showing me where he keeps his weapons. The tattoo parlor is surprisingly big, and the photos and art don't fade away at all. I get the impression Zane is the artist here; the sketches on the walls match the ink on his arms.
"You paint?" I ask, gesturing at the decor.
"When the mood strikes me," he says. "I wouldn't consider myself a fine artist or anything, but I like to experiment with different tattoo ideas on paper before I put anything down permanently on someone's skin. Plus it's a nice hobby for de-stressing, you know?"
"Not really," I shrug. "I've never been very artistically inclined."
He leads me into a back room and puts in a code on the wall, then a screen raises to reveal a row of guns. It's more high tech than I expected, and my eyes widen at the display. "Uh...what is this?" I ask.
"Insurance," he says. "The code is 0327; if you need anything in a pinch, it's yours."
"Why do you have all this?"
He glances over at me. "I uh...I used to be Enclave."
"You did?" I ask. "Why didn't you mention it?"
"I told you I had connections with them."
"I mean--you're a tattoo artist in Solstice Bay, of course you have connections," I say. "But you didn't mention you werein the organization. Why did you stop working with them?"
He swallows hard. "Somebody died. Somebody important to me. I'd like to leave it at that, if that's okay with you."
My face falls and I nod. "Of course."
I go up to the wall and look at the weapons--a standard collection, if a little excessive for a civilian. I've seen most of these before, courtesy of my father's fondness for going to the shooting range and being an only child.
"You know how to use them?" he asks.
I point at a pistol and look back at Zane. "Yeah," I say. "I killed my father with one just like this."
He searches my gaze like he's trying to figure out just how fucked up I am. "Why?"
I snort. "Isn't it obvious? I was an omega in a society that treats us like animals. He wanted to marry me off. It makes sense that I would want him dead."
"But you don't seem like a monster," he says. "I don't understand how you could...how you could do that. And you wereso young."
"Cornered animals do desperate deeds," I shrug. "I'm no exception."
