Free The Omegas by Annie Nicholas Page A

politics?
    Suddenly, the Were’s weight jerked off of her.
    Daedalus grasped the back of its shirt and lifted the Were in the air. Her neck remained clenched in the creature’s hand when it yanked her off the floor. The angle of the Were’s grasp, as she dangled, gave her enough room to wheeze in a breath. Relief swam over her. Daedalus would save her, he’d protect her, like he’d promised her.
    She kicked and twisted mid-air until the Were’s grasp broke loose. Crashing to the floor, she gulped for air.
    Daedalus pulled the stake from his chest, and in one swift move, jammed it through the Were’s head.
    A spatter of blood landed on Sugar’s cheek. She watched in horror as he dropped the corpse, then staggered to his coffin. Sam and Robert appeared at his side to assist him.
    She pushed between them and grasped his hand. “Please don’t die.” Her voice sounded hoarse.
    He tried to touch her face, but his hand fell back to his chest. “Tell Eric to call my office.” His eyes closed, and his body became limp once more.
    She stumbled back a step to look at Sam and Robert. They only offered her a shrug.
    She found the portable phone by the coffin and handed it to Eric. “Call.”

Chapter 11
    Sugar watched them carry him away in his coffin.
    Eric had called Daedalus’s office, informing them of the attack and of his injuries. They sent their local men. The same ones, according to Robert, who had caught them stealing their television and hogtied them. Even though they looked human, she knew they couldn’t be.
    They reverently angled the coffin over the stair rails. Who was Daedalus Pal Robi? Someone who traveled with security yet housed them somewhere else. Someone who’s company removed seven dead werewolves without question and told them not to worry about it. Someone who taught underdogs to stand up for themselves and stole her heart.
    She stared at nothing now, they were gone with him.
    She felt empty inside, wrung out, and nauseous.
    Katrina moaned behind her, and Sugar returned to the others.
    The last of Daedalus’s men removed a blood pressure cuff from Katrina’s arm. She rested on a couch the boys had righted back up, an ice pack over her right eye. “She probably has a concussion, nothing her immunity can’t handle. She’ll be healed up by tomorrow. Tylenol for the headache, no anti-inflammatories.”
    Sugar stood by the security guy, he glanced her way, and his eyes scanned her face. “Daedalus has survived worse.” He handed her a business card and closed the apartment door as he left.
    The card showed a toll-free number with the Pal Robi logo. She snorted. Un-freaking-believable, her life belonged on Tales from the Crypt . Next thing she’d know, one of the merpeople would swim out of her toilet. Did she want this kind of life?
    Most women her age had found a stable, charming husband, bought a house with a picket fence, and started having their 2.5 children. She’d dreamed that dream once but placed it on hold to help Eric out.
    He’d found his place and didn’t need her anymore. The Omegas would be his life, he would make a great Alpha. Maybe he’d settle down with a mate, then they could have puppies. A giggle escaped her, and it held an edge of hysteria.
    The subject of her amusement stared at her. “Are you okay?” The frown and hard glint in Eric’s eyes told Sugar there would be hell to pay among the disgruntled Ayumu turned Omega. Life would be difficult until they accepted him, which meant more fighting.
    She lied and nodded. Thanks to Sam, the Ayumu thought her to be Eric’s mate, and it painted a bull’s eye on her back. More violence. She’d need to hire Daedalus for combat training to survive being their neighbor. Daedalus. Her thoughts circled back to him.
    The situation could be turned into an opportunity to begin fresh, a clean break from the paranormal and its kind, a chance to explore her own future. Maybe find her American dream.
    “I’m going home.” She