Chapter 5
JUDGE
Two hours ago…
I’ve never had a fucking hawk ride shotgun with me before.
I grip the wheel tighter, the leather of my glove flexing as the plow shoves snow to the side.
Diana’s out here, and I’m not far. That distance shrinks with every mile.
I keep debating whether I really should cut out time to visit Rust. What if I power through?
This tether is like a fucking homing beacon, and this snow can buy me time to catch up to her.
It also buys me time to visit Rust.
Fuck.
After a few moments of careful consideration, I pull to a stop as the snow piles up around me.
I grab a map and shine a light on it, looking it over.
If I had to guess, they’re going for that train station.
It’s moderately used, which means the likelihood of them getting on quickly is low.
I lift my gaze to stare, unblinking, ahead to as far as my headlights will shine.
I’m so goddamn agitated that something bad will happen to Diana that it’s overpowering me. I know I need to see Rust. The likelihood of them heading for the Black Mirage is likely enough that I’d bet real money on it.
If Diana does that…
My chest tightens with each ragged breath, a nervous energy making my muscles twitch. I can’t get to the Black Mirage without someone else, and because it’s a weird fucking place, it has to be a true invitation. Not out of fear.
Rust can also hunt her down… She’s at least an hour ahead of me—
The sensation of fear slams into my chest, and I breathe heavier.
Diana.
Relief from fear. From deep, agonizing fear.
What made her so afraid?
Yet, there’s something in the tether that is very pleased with her. I stare at the windshield wipers as they sweep away the snow in relentless arcs.
Everything screams she needs me. I send her whatever I can through the tether, pouring warmth and reassurance. All I want to do is purr and tell her she’s safe, to growl at the others if they get too close.
I breathe intentionally, trying to re-center myself.
I’m going to push to get to the station, as long as that’s where the tether takes me. If they somehow manage to get so fucking lucky that a train grabs them, then Im heading to Rust who is a few exits up from there.
Then he can hunt them down.
I cannot let her get to the Black Mirage, which will eat Diana alive… I nearly slap the wheel in frustration.
Whoever harms Diana has no idea who lives in her shadows.
The jeep was fucking empty.
When it came into view in my headlights, I could barely focus. Its lights were off, and I didn’t see anyone inside. I went up to it, the doors unlocked, and it smelled of her.
Abandoned.
Horse hooves in the snow gave me some comfort, because it meant she wasn’t out in the snow. But who the fuck picked them up? The compass shows that the trail leads toward the station that’s nearby, so that’s where I’m heading.
If she’s not there…
The station appears out of the snow with bright lights, my heart racing with dread.
I don’t feel her here.
I kill the headlights before I pull in out of habit, and sit there with the engine idling, sensing out anything I can get. Empty.
I get out, slamming the door shut as I head toward the station.
There’s a bunch of tracks in this snow that aren’t entirely fresh, some new snow already filling it in.
I don’t bother trying to figure out how many are there, and instead, head right into the station.
It smells like horses in here and I glance over to see a hallway connects to what looks like a stall.
It’s a refurbished station with a counter and signs behind it, and a man with thick eyebrows is standing there, clothes sitting by a fire to dry them. So he was out there recently, then.
“Did you escort four women?” I ask. “And did they get on that fucking train?”
His shoulders sag. “The hell kind of trouble they in?”
“Doesn’t matter when you’re about to be in your own,” I threaten, staring him down. “Don’t waste my fucking time.”
“I—the conductor makes those calls. I just run the arrangements—”
“What was their plan? How did you pick them up? How did you know?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve got no fucking idea what they’re doing.
We don’t ask anything. I just knew that two women were arranging to be placed on one of the cargo trains, and would be bringing two more on this night, possibly tomorrow.
I get paid to ensure that I can come get them, if needed, and give them somewhere to stay until they get a ride.
I used some horses to get them from their jeep. ”
Relief hits me harder than I expected. That’s probably why she doesn’t feel like she’s in danger at all, and if anything, she might be sleeping.
I'm furious at her for this recklessness.
I’m also proud of her.
But goddamnit, this just got more complicated. I leave without saying another word and get back into the truck, turning it on and checking the gas. I’ve got plenty. Glancing at Slash, I’m not sure how to talk to a fucking hawk, but her orange eyes watch me as if I’m the idiot.
“Can you somehow let Beast know something?”
She tilts her head, and then the white takes over. I rummage in the back to get the parchment with an alphabet on one side, and then quick statements on the other. She starts pecking toward the parchment, turning it until it’s showing the statement side, and she repeatedly pokes at, ‘present.’
“Diana somehow has the luck of a fucking leprechaun, and was able to beat me to a train ride. I need to go to Rust so I can properly track her down. That’s where I’m going for now, and then I guess they’re on that train until they hit the mirage.
I don’t know, yet, but I don’t think I’m returning in the next few days.
Unless something is urgent, I don’t need a reply. ”
Slash nods, the gold eyes returning.
Goddamnit, Diana.
Little nurse is not to be underestimated.
The town that Rust has said to be residing in is a collection of half-collapsed buildings and makeshift shelters, held together by scavenged metal.
There are two larger ones that look completely renovated, like the brick homes of an era long before any of us has a memory of it.
There’s a hint of relief when I see Rust’s truck, the shade a dark umbra in my headlights. It’s as massive as mine.
It has a trailer attached with an enormous, built-in cage that a tarp is fastened over. What’s inside that thing is why he’s more useful than anyone else.
I park the truck, the hawk moving its head to look at me. “Stay here. Maybe get some more rest. You’re going to fly once the snow stops.”
Slash slowly moves her head back down and closes her eyes. It’s unnatural to see a bird act so human, and yet a little comforting to know that the Iron Castle is reachable through her.
Neon flickers weakly in the fading light, half the letters burned out, but I can still make out “R_ST_P” in sickly green.
Someone’s idea of “Rest Stop,” I assume.
I grab my jacket, the cloak, and the scarf and get them assembled on me as swiftly as possible before stepping out into the cold, covering the lower half of my face as I throw the hood up.
The place screams Wild West, but in our era.
There’s a hitching post out front where three horses stand next to what looks like a stripped-down motorcycle frame converted into some kind of solar charger.
Two gas pumps. A small water tower leans at an angle behind the building, held upright by cables and prayers, with “DON’T DRINK” spray-painted across it in faded red letters.
The windows glow with warm, amber light.
I enter the building, my shoulders covered in snow as everyone glances my way.
There’s the expected reaction of nearly all attention now on me.
I spot the cowboy hat in a corner, worn onto of a man that holds a drink and I move directly toward him.
He’s a little smaller than me, but one of the best shots out in this world.
A true gunslinging cowboy born in the wrong era.
“Well, you must be really needing my services if you’re here in a snowstorm,” Rust says by way of greeting, his voice a low rumble. I lean over on his table, and he raises echo eyes that are hardly phased.
“I lost something, and I need you to help me get it back.”
“Did you lose your damn wallet? Since when do you lose shit that you need me to find?” he asks.
“A scent match,” I say, not totally favorable to claim an omega in this quiet space, especially since I’m admitting that she’s open fucking game. “She’s mine, and she’s on the run.”
“Clearly not yours if she’s running.”
Oh, he’s so fucking lucky I need him, and he knows it. He smirks as he takes another drink and sets it down.
I ignore him because it’s just who he fucking is.
He’d rather die being a smart ass than shut that mouth of his.
“I need to get to the Black Mirage, as that’s where she’s heading.
You know its routes, and I can’t see it.
Need the fucking invitation like the rest of the wastes.
” I take the drink from the table, pull the scarf down, drink the barely flavored alcohol, and slam it down, finishing it for him.
“And we’re leaving right now,” I say, my voice hoarse from whatever the fuck that was.
He tilts his head after rolling his eyes when he realizes the burning alcohol is all gone, his face shadowing underneath his rim. “Payment?”
“Oh, you’ll be compensated. She’s already bonded to me.”
Genuine intrigue flashes across his eyes. “Shit, I’d come just to see how this plays out alone.” He stands up, putting on his gloves. “Let’s fuel up and get the fuck on the road.” He dips his hat toward the owner who’s behind the bar. “See ya in a bit, Frank.”
As we head back out into the cold, the world quiet with the snow, I ask, “Why have you been here for two months? You don’t stay somewhere for this long,” I ask.
“Got something I’m keeping an eye on.” He heads to his truck. “So, what’s the plan?”
I get near him, and he raises his brows like he’s waiting.
“We had a mole in Dominion. His omega was dark bonded. She convinced my omega to leave, and they’re heading to the Black Mirage.
I was about an hour behind them, and they somehow managed to get to a train station and catch one before I got to them. ”
He nods, looking away, the gears of a bounty hunter starting to spin.
“So, they got some speed on us, then. Not sure if they’re aware, but at Red Hood, it’s got repairs going on with the tracks.
That’ll stop ‘em pretty good. Only downside is it’s one station before the Mirage exit, so not much of a buffer. ”
Fucking relief. “And I have something of hers to give to your beast to help.”
Rust huffs a laugh, shaking his head. The sound of a glass breaking comes from inside the tavern, followed by a roar of laughter. “You always were a stubborn bastard.” He pauses, then adds, “What’s she to you? Really? You actually got yourself an omega?”
“Her name is Diana, and she’s everything.”
The word comes out before I can stop it, raw and unguarded. Rust’s expression shifts—something almost like sympathy flickering across his face before it’s gone.
“Alright, alright, lover boy. If that’s true, I’ll help,” he says finally. “But you owe me. Follow me in your truck, and we’ll ride the road until it’s daylight. You can give me the shirt later. Best to let him sniff it once he’s free. We just need to get out of this weather system.”
I nod, climbing back into the truck, the hawk still perched in her seat. As we pull out onto the slippery road, I touch one of Diana’s shirts—the one I’d grabbed from the attic before leaving. I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply, letting her scent fill my lungs.
It’s a scent that promises relief, devotion, and care. A scent I know is mine, and she’s broken out there. Afraid. She can’t be out there like this. The wastes will destroy her.
I follow Rust’s tail lights as we leave the tavern behind, its neon glow shrinking in my rearview mirror until it’s just another dying star in the darkness.
And yet, even through the urgency, the fear, the bone-deep need to find her, I can relax slightly knowing I have the most sought-after bounty hunter aware that he needs to find her.
In that, my mind drifts to being intrigued by Diana.
She’s resourceful. Brave. Determined to survive in a way most omegas aren’t.
Forcing me to get a bounty hunter just to ensure she doesn’t win in this chase.
An omega like that at my side is something worth hunting down.