Someone cleared their throat behind her.
She wheeled around and found Peder holding an empty cast iron pot.
“I need more cold water.” He pointed to the pump on the other side of her work area.
“Okay.” She stepped out of the way and gave him access, then offered him a cleaned pot. “Here.”
“I would have washed the dishes later tonight.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“I—I had the time. What you’re doing is more important.”
His eyes flicked up, then back to the pot in his hands before he squared his shoulders and met her stare. His shy smile softened his angular face into something stunningly charming.
She grinned back. “I’m Susan.”
“We met at the Temple.” His smile turned chagrined. “I was the other one in feral form when Sorin found you. Sorry for frightening you.”
Nodding, she glanced around the room and wrung the rag in her hands. He’d been the same golden color as his hair. “Umm…how do the flowers help the sick?”
His smile faded, and she was sorry to have chased it away. “It breaks the fever but wears off.”
In college, she’d studied microbiology as an elective. Ideas for bioengineered machines still fascinated her. In those classes they studied bacteria, cells and the tests needed to identify them. It wasn’t med school but it offered a start.
They needed to find the source of the illness, and that meant either a virus or bacteria. If it was a virus, they were shit out of luck. With a miracle and a load of time, she might figure out a vaccine, but that wouldn’t help those already dying. Figuring out how to manufacture sterile needles would be impossible. Shit, she had trouble identifying soap. The solution needed to be simple.
God. She grabbed her head. All this knowledge, and she had no way to implement it. If it was a bacteria then…what? Take a trip to a pharmacy?
“Peder, what kind of symptoms do they exhibit—uh, have?”
“Fever.” He twisted the hem of his shirt. “Coughing thick phlegm, then they start having trouble breathing. They don’t last long after that. You should really speak with Lailanie. She’s been in charge of the sick. I’m only an omega.”
“Okay.” She chewed at her lip while regarding the thin shifter. “What does omega mean exactly? I mean, what is expected of you?” She’d discussed it a little with Kele, but if this position, or worse, could be her future, she’d rather hear it from an omega.
With a jerk of his head, he glanced at her. “Lowest. It’s the lowest rank in the pack.”
“I thought strays and outcasts were.” At least that was how Kele explained it.
“Yes, they’re lower but not usually tolerated on pack lands, let alone a den.”
“Then what am I considered?” The Payami made it clear she was a stray to them. She didn’t sense that vibe from Sorin or Peder.
“Sorin’s guest.” Peder’s superb smile returned. “As an alpha’s guest, you’re not really part of pack politics. I guess your people don’t interact like us?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer, that was rude of me to ask.”
“It was?” She scratched her head. “Look, Peder, let’s make a deal. We can ask each other anything we want without worrying about hierarchy or customs or whatever. No holds barred. If I make you uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll back off. And I’ll do the same.” She squinted at the button on her shirt and straightened it. “Because…I could really use a friend about now.”
He scrutinized every aspect of the room but her. Shooting her a quick glance, he nodded.
“My people are called humans, and there’s definitely a similar hierarchy among us. Instead of being called alphas, hunters and omegas, there’s leaders, followers and uhh…nerds?”
“What group are you in?” He stopped scanning the room to watch her.
Chuckling, she tried not to blush. “A nerd for a long time—our version of an omega—but I learned to become a leader.” She shrugged. “I just need to figure out pack rules without getting my ass kicked at every corner.”
“Then you’ve made the right friend. I’ve made it my life’s goal not to get attacked.” He posed for her and flexed his slim muscles. “I might be small but I’m fast.”
“And cunning.”
His smile grew wider as he leaned against the table. “Yes, and don’t forget handsome.” The pot containing cold water rocked and splashed over the edge. He caught the pot before it spilled, then lifted it into his arms. “Follow me. Lailanie might answer your questions.”
“Might?” Susan left some dishes soaking while the rest air-dried. Butterflies in her stomach stirred the stew Sorin had fed her.
“You wanted to learn pack rules. This one will be a hard lesson. Lailanie is our most dominant female. She runs the den—”
Susan’s heart skipped a beat. “Is she Sorin’s mate?” Jealousy was a stranger but she recognized its greasy grip. She shouldn’t blow the sweet moment they’d shared on the mountain top out of proportion.
“No, which makes Lailanie angry so stay away from that topic. Don’t look her in the eye until she starts speaking to you, and if she attacks don’t fight back.”
Slamming on her brakes, Susan stood in the middle of the avenue. “You want me to lay there and let her beat me?”
Peder slowed his pace and spoke to her over his shoulder. “Yes, unless you know how to win. The more you struggle, the harder they hit.”
The muscles in her neck knotted, and she rolled her shoulders to relieve the tension. Things were so hard in this world.
Her new friend came to a halt then turned and faced her. “In pack life, you have to physically dominate others to gain respect. If intelligence and good intentions counted then I’d be considered a hunter. It’s the will of the wild. The strong survive and the weak perish.”
Setting her hands on her hips, she cocked her head to the side. “So, you’re telling me to aim for being an omega?”
“If you were pack, yes, but you’re not. As a guest, Lailanie should treat you nicer but she’s been under a lot of strain and the fact Sorin marked you has placed a burr on her hide. Any other male, and it wouldn’t have fazed her.”
“Great.”
“Don’t worry.” Peder’s face paled. “At this rate, there might not be an Apisi pack to deal with anymore, and you can return to the Payami.” He glanced at the cave housing the sick.
Nothing had changed. The bed remained full, and Lailanie wiped a small child in her arms with a cool cloth.
They passed through the entry and approached her.
Peder rested the pot of cold water on the ground and took over the care of the child.
Without a glance at Susan, Lailanie busied herself with the fresh pot of water. Focused on her work, she ignored them both.
Not sure how to sound out the moody female, Susan seated herself next to Peder on the dirt floor. The Payami’s pack room had soft, thick rugs and cushions everywhere—rich in color and texture. This place lacked anything of comfort.
The child in Peder’s lap coughed and spat up something greenish.
Susan rubbed her left eye with the heel of her palm, trying to ease the headache seeding there. It didn’t take a genius to see the signs of lung infection, but it would take one to cure these poor people.
The sick all slept together, some so close they were face to face. “It might be better to separate the sick. The cough might be contagious.” She sensed more than saw Peder flinch next to her.
Lailanie stopped bathing the fevered child. “Injuries heal better when we’re close to pack, human.”
So word of her origins was spreading. That would save her some breath in having to repeat it. “Injuries I could understand.” Not really; however, one issue at a time. “But they’re not hurt, they’re sick. Sleeping close together will just spread the disease. The healthy shouldn’t climb in bed with them like I saw Peder do before.”