Page 22 of Omega's Fever

Our five-year plan. The one we made in law school, drunk on ambition and cheap wine. Make partner by thirty. Buy into the equity structure by thirty-five. Build the kind of corporate law practice that makes millions, the kind that has CEOs calling at three AM because they trust no one else with their billion-dollar deals. Criminal law was never part of the equation. That’s for do-gooders and people who can’t hack it. At least that’s what my uncle always says. He’s not a lawyer. He’s in finance, but the principle is the same. He’s an asshole but he’s partly right.

“Schmitt and Petersen doesn’t care about my pheromone reactions,” I say. “They care about billable hours.”

“True.” Kao glances at his own mountain of paperwork. “Though I bet they’d care if you collapsed in the middle of a client meeting from suppressant overdose.”

“I’m not going to collapse.” Another wave of nausea rolls through me, slow and inevitable like tide coming in, making a liar of my words even as I speak them. “It’s just temporary. A few weeks of discomfort.”

My phone buzzes. The notification I’ve been dreading pops up on the screen.

Omega Match Bureau: Prime Match notification.

In my heart, I’d known it was coming, but my stomach both sinks and my heart soars at the same time. Kellen is mine. I knew he was. And I am his.

What other possible reason could I have for doing what I did in that interview room?

Kao sees my face. “What is it?”

I turn the phone toward him. His mouth falls open.

“Prime match? Holy shit, Milo. That’s like...”

“One in a million. Yeah.” I set the phone face-down on my desk. My stomach churns, and not just from the suppressants. “Genetically speaking, Kellen Hayes is my perfect match.”

“Fuck.” Kao runs a hand through his hair. “What are you going to do?”

Before I can answer, Anne appears in our doorway. She doesn’t knock. Senior partners never do.

“Milo. A word.”

Normally, I’m grateful for time with her. My mentor is a font of wisdom, but today I just feel irritation. I’m not in the mood to be summoned. I follow her down the hallway. My legs feel unsteady, like I’m walking through water. I’ve never been on suppressants like this before. I’ve heard of them, of course, but this is something else. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon. With the flu. After being run over by a truck.

“Sit.” She settles behind her desk, fingers steepled. “You’re on the suppressants.”

It’s not exactly a question but I answer anyway. “Yes.” I hesitate then add. “I just got a prime match notification.”

Anne grimaces and then says something I never expected to come out of her mouth. “Yuck.”

I tuck the word away. Yuck. That’s my mentor’s reaction to my mate. I don’t know what to think about that. Or about the fact that I am already thinking about Kellen Hayes as my mate.

I shift into work mode. I don’t want to talk about Kellen. I can talk about his case.

“The police did a shoddy job on the case. I’m pretty sure I can get him off with just a little more investigation.”

“Milo.” Anne’s voice cuts through my rambling. “This is a pro bono case. We’re not running a detective agency.”

“But if he’s innocent...”

“He’s not. You’ve seen the man. If he’s not guilty of thosespecific charges, then he’s guilty of something else. You don’t work in that world without getting your hands dirty.” She leans back in her chair. “Your job is to provide representation. Offer him a plea deal. Get this wrapped up quickly and quietly.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“No, you’re not. Your loyalty is to our clients. We do pro bono because it looks good on the website. That’s all.” She sighs, rubbing her temples. “Milo, I like you. You’re smart, dedicated, and you have a bright future here. But not if you torch your career over some criminal.”

My chest tightens. “So I should just... what? Phone it in?”

“You should remember why you’re here.” She gestures to the office around us. “This isn’t a legal aid clinic. Your billable hours are what matter. You’re more valuable to us doing actual work.”

“I understand.”