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She smirked.
Ysma was nearly relaxed when Nelith asked, “What do you know about the others?”
She tensed. “The oldest is thirty-five. She’s married with three children and doesn’t know that she’s one of yours. Apparently, they were dumped into the Sedorathan society after a transport crash to get them away from the lab. There was no identification on the transport, the driver died, and the vehicle was hit with an explosive. So, thirteen survivors were dropped into their largest city, and they dispersed from there.”
Nelith sighed. “Well, I won’t interfere with them. It is nice just to know they are out there and safe.”
“And you are a grandma.”
Nelith laughed. “Salat and Khytten have made me their children’s grandmother. Khytten’s eldest daughter is a seer and said it was right for me to have that title. Who knew? My head is spinning.”
Ysma nodded with a smile. “I am seeing a pattern here. We are all getting adopted by powerful families. I think the plan without a plan is making us partially safe or, at least, less of a target. Now that folks realize what Nelith is, again, and that her genes are out there... they are going to want the weapons.”
Nelith blinked. “You mean you.”
“I mean us. We are the only ones who know that there are others, but if they have psychics, they will get it out of us. None of us really have defenses against it. The lab was careful not to expose me to a psychic after determining my nature.”
Nelith took her hand. “It’s not the worst thing.”
“No. I mean, I am resistant, but the others may be in different situations.”
There was a burst of laughter from a group of women who looked to be on holiday. Ysma looked over at them, and a wry smile crossed her lips. “It looks like they are slowly going to come to you, Nelith.”
Nelith looked at the gaggle of women getting iced desserts. “Which one?”
“Brunette, on the left with the cup of fruit.”
Ysma looked at the woman who radiated quiet power. The woman nibbled at the fruit but flicked a gaze at their party that took them all in, and she had a wary attitude. Her friends were laughing over their selections, but she was remaining quiet and wary. When her friends ran for the beach, she hung back and settled on the sand.
Ysma asked, “Should I go talk to her?”
Yukaro murmured, “You really should. Those alphas are scenting her, and she is about to have a very bad day.”
Ysma looked at the group of four men who were lifting their heads and following their noses to the woman. The woman seemed perfectly calm when the four Sethir in short hip wraps approached her.
Ysma watched the woman for any sign of fear. The woman sighed, set her cup of fruit down, got up, and brushed sand off her thighs.
The first of the Sethir walked up to the woman and told her that she was cute and sweet and he would take good care of her.
Ysma muttered, “Does that happen often?”
Yukaro shrugged. “More than you would think. We can’t let omegas get away.”
“Yeah, that isn’t the flex you think it is.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We take our clues from her.”
The woman’s hands curled into fists, and she sent out a concussive wave that sent sand and alphas tumbling.
Nelith smiled. “She does appear to be one of mine.”
Dmitri snorted. “What was your first clue?”
“That she returned to her dessert.”
Ysma grinned. The woman had set her cup in a garbage receptacle and was walking toward them as the alphas struggled to get up.
