CHAPTER 272: CHAPTER 272 - TASTES LIKE LAMBS... TO THE SLAUGHTER!

The top of the steps of the Vossden Public Library was not exactly comfortable. But it provided a decent enough perch to eat my feelings in somewhat relative peace.

I’d grabbed a gyro from a food truck three blocks back, filled with extra lamb meat. It was exactly the kind of greasy, chewy, savory comfort I needed after... whatever that conversation with Edgar had stirred up.

At least the food here doesn’t judge me for running away from advice. Isn’t that right?

Tapping at the giant jar I’d dropped over Vrika once again, the wolf actually seems to roll its blue glowing eyes behind the glass. Or at least it moved its head in an approximation...

Soon enough, I pulled out my phone with my thumb tapping over Claire’s message log. Those | Matron’s Monitor | scan results for Edgar kept nagging at me.

I know distressingly little about human medical practices, but even Helene knew from various media that elevated blood pressure wasn’t something to ignore. Especially in someone his age.

Heart attacks are especially scary to me. Considering that Helene literally succumbed to one. Sure, it’s possible that a motivated Vrika could have revived her and that it was all my soul transfer’s fault that it did not come to pass that way.

But that doesn’t matter much right now. Asking for help here meant admitting to someone else that I cared. Which meant owing someone, because I’ve had them do something for me that I felt I needed.

Which meant...

Yes. This is what keeping an emotional score is like. I know. It feels awful. But it’s easier to deal with than the alternative, trust me.

C: [Need a favor. Friend of mine is elderly. Blind. Not sure if he is seeing a doctor. But he has high blood pressure. Can you check if he has... insurance or access to care?]

BK: [Name.]

C: [Edgar Miles. Lives in the same complex as Anise.]

BK: [On it. But after I deal with something else. Give me 10 minutes.]

Even if Claire wanted to claim she was helping as a friend, she was still technically Kyrie’s assistant, using the CEO’s resources... and had been ordered to be of help to me once already. So that means, I was definitely going to owe Ms. Voss herself for this, wasn’t I?

I took another aggressive bite of the gyro, causing tzatziki sauce to drip down my chin. Wiping up most of it with my thumb and licking it off, the napkins I thought I wouldn’t need were beginning to haunt me.

Being more careful, I finish about two thirds of it all before my phone begins to buzz again. Looking at my foodstained fingers, I try to handle checking the texts with just my knuckle instead

BK: [Good news - he’s still got Medicare and supplemental through a veteran’s program. Bad news - his last appointment was 2019.]

BK: [Want me to set something up? I know a doctor who does house calls for seniors on weekends.]

A veteran... so military service? That makes me realize I’d never asked him all that much about his past. Nor had he offered all that much beyond some details about his wife.

C: [Yes. Tell me what it costs and I’ll cover it.]

BK: [Boss lady’s orders were to help you with whatever you need. Pretty sure this counts.]

BK: [After all, you needed it enough to seek it out and it... kind of falls in the grand ass category of ’whatever’.]

I stared at the screen with my jaw clenching around a clump of fatty lamb. Smoothing the way like that before I even asked for anything specific was thoughtful and infuriating in equal measure.

Rapidly chewing and swallowing, I tap to activate the voice-to-text again.

C: [Fine. Thank you.]

BK: [You’re welcome. Also, random question - you haven’t texted the boss since your... nap meeting... the other night.]

BK: [She’s asked me three times if your phone was still fully in service, but not where you are or what you’ve been up to. It’s getting... kind of pathetic and I’m losing respect for her.]

A combination of things happened all at once as I decided that I absolutely was not going to acknowledge that text. Heat crept up my neck, the sound of something slapping the concrete made me look up sharply...

And worst of all, I dropped the last section of gyro that would have helped stuff down my feelings. Looking away from where it landed, I see two teenage boys hovering over what seems like a tall, dark skinned girl.

Who was scrambling to collect a set of scattered textbooks with a smell that stands out against the other two at the distance. Three werewolves, not Omegas.

One of them Zoé. Hey, Vrika... it’s okay if I get angry, right? If I blame them for dropping my food...

Even though I was asking, anger had already flared in my chest. Because I could hear the blonde one loudly call out something about her being a ’nerd wannabe’.

Then something else more whispered I couldn’t quite hear, but drawing Zoé’s attention quickly toward him. Just as the darker-haired one hopped forward and punted one of her books into the street.

"Oops."

Not even bothering to hide his smirk, I captured it. From over here, dozens of photos that began when I guessed what was going on had been taken.

Swapping to a video as I watched Zoé’s shoulders hunch in defeat. I stalked that way while I see her eyes flash brown. For just a moment.

Before she looked down, clearly trying not to escalate. And my steps grew quicker.

Oh, absolutely not. Unknown context be damned!

These little shits wanted to play pack hierarchy games right in front of me? With an adorable young girl that I’d already hypnotized myself into considering under my protection once?

"Fine. Very fine. I hope you are seeing what your members get up to, Kyrie."

They were about to learn that games without consenting players had consequences.