Even Shepherd could not deny the echoing truth in the fractured bond; it was like she wasn't even there-the greater fragment of her spirit simply gone. But she was more at that moment than she had been when her every hour was spent in a stupor underground.
She would recover.
Looking deep into such pain-filled eyes, Shepherd spoke in a voice of certainty, of authority. "Your place is with me. You will return to your mate."
"You are no mate to me." Claire spat on the ground between them. "I will stand with my people on my terms! If Thólos is to suffer, your child and I will suffer with it."
Shepherd was going to reach for her, she knew it. Claire spun, black hair flaring as she darted into the smoke. Shepherd was so very fast for a man of his size, and Claire could feel him and his Followers bearing down on her. But out of the dark, thin arms reached for her.
The embrace of an old friend was followed by a sudden loss of gravity.
Maryanne Cauley had come back, a cable propelling them high above the Lower Reaches before the raging giant or his men had even seen where Claire had gone.
The amount of security protocols that had been overwritten during the Omegas' escape was extraordinary. All the surveillance footage had been wiped, many of the mechanized doors manipulated to trap his soldiers still malfunctioning. Purgatory's grounds had been turned into a maze that took Shepherd's most skilled Followers over an hour to penetrate, only to find there was not even one Omega inside.
The females had vanished as if teleported by the smoke.
Seven Followers dead, twenty-four trapped, and one man barely breathing. Claire's plan had been either extremely well-coordinated, or she was gifted with sheer dumb luck.
Deceitfully complacent, Shepherd turned to his second-in-command. "Explain to me, Jules, how an Omega female who paints pictures for children's stories accomplished this feat with only four days to plan?"
"I can't. Not yet, sir." The Beta stood at attention, unsmiling and severe. "We tracked the Omegas to the sewer access and know they went north, but the scent … "
"Was lost in the waste they rubbed all over themselves," Shepherd finished, knowing exactly what they would do. His lip curled. "And they are armed with weapons taken off our fallen men."
"Weapons they do not know how to use," Jules offered.
"Those women went on a rampage and killed five Alphas with their bare hands. I am fairly certain they will learn how to fire assault rifles in no time." A strange feeling came to the pit of Shepherd's gut, the sensation quickly ignored in favor of the satisfaction of clenching his fists until joints popped.
"We have profiles and photographs of all known surviving Omegas. The odds that one will be seen are exponentially higher with so many. They will be found."
"The situation with Claire takes precedence over retrieving the Omegas. Her escape route was divergent. She must be moving through Thólos as we speak. Assign our best trackers, and when she is found, no one approaches but me."
Jules knew the female had been serious about ending her life; it had been the only reason he'd not disarmed the quaking woman at first glance. "Cornering her would not end well. Her mental state is unbalanced. Miss O'Donnell is a danger to herself until her desperation recedes."
Shepherd cut a dangerous glare at his lieutenant. "What is your point?"
Intense blue eyes sat static in a face devoid of emotion. "Your appearance turned her fear to rage; her finger tightened on the trigger. I had a measure of rapport with her; you did not."
The slight flare of Shepherd's nostrils, the intake of breath, was nothing compared to the growl that stained his reply. "Her entire plan hinged on distracting us with the ploy. She did not pull the trigger, she ran."
Jules did not baulk. "Her success will give her confidence, and may lead her to expose herself to needless danger in order to fulfill her agenda. Shall I create a situation she'd want to resolve? We could draw her out on our terms. Miss O'Donnell could potentially be captured before any more trauma accumulated."
Shepherd momentarily considered the suggestion before he shook his head in the negative. "She is too clever for that."
"Where do you think she'll strike next?"
"I do not think she will strike at all. Not one of her bombs killed a Follower; she could have executed all our comrades trapped inside. Casualties were kept to a minimum. As far as we know, she never fired the pistol or pointed it at anyone but herself. No matter the show she put on, Claire O'Donnell is a pacifist. Her ideal would be to inspire, just like she threatened."
"If she exposes herself to the public, they will bring her in," the Beta assured.
"Her faith in the scum of this city is far more dangerous to her than any gun. If they knew of our bond, the people of Thólos would not deliver her home. They would rip her to shreds."
Curled together like kittens in Maryanne's bed, Claire slept with one hand over her belly and a troubled frown on her brow. Maryanne watched her fitful sleep, certain again that she'd lost her mind for going back to drag the obstinate fool away.
After witnessing the showdown with Shepherd, watching as the hulking killer spoke as softly as he could even though he was clearly furious, Maryanne couldn't wrap her head around it. When she'd been forced to work for him, she had seen him at his most ferocious, and it was nothing compared to the cautious demeanor he displayed to his mate.
The man was fucking terrifying. But just for a moment there, Maryanne had seen it. He'd been desperate.
Pair-bonds were strange things, a condition Maryanne had purposely chosen to avoid until the day she died. Who would want to give up their freedom and be tied to another person forever? The very idea was repulsive. Sex was sex-and Maryanne loved sex-but the urge to forge a tie, to bind oneself … no thank you!
As an Alpha female, options of whom you could fuck ranged far and wide, and fear of getting knocked up was basically non-existent. The only way to ovulate required the use of hormone injections or a male Omega in heat to inspire such an event. Maryanne didn't have a thing for scrawny guys, which was good, since the likelihood of finding a male Omega was pretty dismal. It was Beta boys she preferred, though a girl now and then had been fun, too.
Being born an Alpha had been a boon. She was stronger, aggressive, quick, and able to move through society in a position people like Claire coveted. The small thing in her arms had always resented her dynamic, even when they were little. Maryanne couldn't blame her. Once Claire's scent began to fill the room with sweetness instead of just little kid stink, the world started treating her like she was made out of glass. That was half the reason Maryanne had dragged her into more … interesting pursuits.
Childhood shenanigans had been good for Claire.
Or were, until Claire began to hide what she was under the practiced mask of a Beta-the pills, special soap. It was sad to see someone try so hard to be something else.
Considering the alternative of being bonded in a heated stupor with no real protection if the Alpha went against the Omega's wishes, it was understandable.
After all, look what had happened to Claire's mom-the paragon of the downside. It was no surprise Claire had never embraced her true nature. Looking at her now, Maryanne wondered if the dark-haired woman even knew the absolute finality of her bond with Shepherd, and the lengths to which he would go to recapture his mate.
Or he would just kill her … he probably would kill her after tonight, at least.
Grinning stupidly, Maryanne thought back on Claire's taunts and the burning vehemence practically rising like flames from the giant. Maryanne would have paid good money to watch that show. If she wasn't so anxious that Shepherd was going to rip the wall off the side of her den and come to fetch back his very unbalanced mate, she would have probably laughed at how perfectly Claire had owned him. She'd got her prisoners out, she'd stood alone against the Followers, she'd even threatened to kill herself and probably would have … simply to give the Omegas more time to follow through with the second half of the plan.
But Claire had always been a stubborn, sentimental fool.
A little fool that was clinging to her in sleep with a face so full of misery, Maryanne almost didn't recognize her. Claire was ten kinds of messed up. It was more than the scrapes and bruises, or the gross state of her feet; it was something in her makeup. The Omega female stood like a marionette missing a few strings-not at all the spirited girl she had been when they were kids. A small part of Maryanne wanted to ask what had happened. The larger, more reasonable part, was determined to wash her hands of this trouble as soon as possible. Whatever was going on between Claire and Shepherd, whatever had caused Claire to provoke a man of his size and deadliness, Maryanne did not want to get dragged into it.
Defiled, manipulated, betrayed, and broken …
Well, that happened to everyone. Apparently it was just Claire's turn. Threading her fingers into the tousled, sooty hair, Maryanne began to comb out the knots.
Claire pressed nearer, a whimper catching in her throat. "Shepherd … "
And that was the final reason Maryanne would not be able to keep her. Everything went back to that pair-bond. Claire might be fighting it, might be fueled by rage and pain, but eventually she would waver and crack. It was inevitable, a tie of souls or some such nonsense. So long as she was running wild, Shepherd would hunt her, be fixated on a rampage, and Maryanne was not going to get trampled when nothing would change the outcome. She didn't owe Claire a damn thing; in fact, the way it looked now, Claire owed her.