The Vampire's Last Omega

Familiar Scents

Kieran had enough of this, wanting to end his life now. "Everyone what?"

"P-Prince Kieran! You are alive? I mean, of course, you're alive! Queen Lilith went on a killing spree with some of your siblings, murdering the souls of their sins. The whole East Coast has been hit. We're panicking, you know? Dog-eat-dog world, even more than before. She offered a hefty reward to bring you to her alive. The omega, too. Everyone is looking for you and Lust."

She said she'd give us time until the pups arrive. Mother obviously wanted to make our journey harder.

Angry, Kieran kneeled over this bastard and screwdriver'd his nails above the heart. The soldier yelped and grabbed Kieran's wrist.

"Wait." It was Teru.

"Omega, please! Tell him I mean you no harm! Really! I'm just a lowly follower trying to survive, especially since I turned only two years ago. I'm basically a baby!"

The words didn't sway his mate. Instead, he pointed at the dark brown leather holster around his hips. "That. Show me that."

"Huh?"

Kieran snapped and roared, "Show him what he wants!" Spit and the blood of his friends literally flew and landed on the beta's petrified face.

"Eek!" he trembled and quickly unfastened the buckle, tossing it to Teru.

Teru caught it, examining the handwork of the holster. Kieran thought it was in excellent condition despite the hundreds of years of use. The owner had taken good care of the leather to keep it from drying out. Auction bids would fetch a pretty penny.

His finger followed the handsewn threads until touching the black pistol it carried in a pocket. Teru took it out with care and experience. Oh? A Colt Python .357 Magnum? Not a cheap pistol during the human reign. An antique weapon like that would fetch a bigger price; maybe enough to buy a family-sized studio in the heart of New York. Heck, possibly a penthouse.

There were no significant scratches or dents. No broken parts. It was a showpiece. For a rough-looking soldier like this guy to own one and keep it in pristine condition?

Kieran was curious when Teru sniffed the holster.

Teru finally spoke. "Where did you get this?"

"W-where? Er, from what I know, it was part of a deal. A 'dirty money' deal."

Teru looked at Kieran. "What's 'dirty money?'"

"It's money acquired from crimes, illegal transactions, drugs, trafficking, and so on. This pistol was likely used instead of money."

"I see. You," Teru told the soldier. "When and where did you get this? Did you kill my pack?"

His pack?

"Pack? I didn't kill anyone for it except for the previous owner. He was a colonel of Abaddon's army in Atlanta. In the chaos of Abaddon's earthquakes, I stole the gun before pushing him into the fires of hell. I remember he was gloating about his new lady he got, aka that Colt, sometime last year after a top-secret meeting in the Midwest."

Colonel? That is a high rank. Soldiers doing missions for personal gain were always a headache for me. Things can easily be swept under the rug or never written on paper if a colonel is involved in underground deals and bargains.

"Do you believe him?" Teru asked Kieran.

"It is hard to say. I don't sense dishonesty."

"...Me either."

"Little one, why did you ask if this man killed your pack?"

Teru observed the pistol. Dislike darkened his face. "As a werewolf-"