Chapter 7
JUDGE
“What are you planning, Diana?” I mumble low to myself. She seems entirely determined, almost like she’s won something.
The air is warm enough that I can chase her down on a bike if I need to. Widow has been completely modified to handle the terrain out here.
The thought loops through my mind, relentless and mechanical.
The snow had melted into muddy slush on the roads, to now we’re somewhere in northern Louisiana, with the Mirage making a massive circle through all of Texas and some of Mexico.
Which means we’re going to I could mount the bike and tear through these backroads, closing in on the six-hour lead she has.
Use the passages that Rust has access to, but they wouldn’t.
Any of Beast’s birds fly extraordinarily fast, so even though I received a note from the conductor that confirms he has four women on board, I have only hope to rely on that he’s able to keep them confined.
Red Hood has more horses than vehicles, and they don’t loan the latter out easily. They’ll likely take the horses, which will slow them down, but get them on trails neither of us can pass.
I clearly failed Diana if she’s going to these extremes, as I really fucking doubt she’s going to just give up as she gets there.
I can almost feel her plotting something.
There’s a dead focus, almost full of adrenaline, but not much fear.
If she doesn’t let me take her home at this next stop, she’ll be running through towns like a fugitive.
Risking safety, her life, just to get away from me.
She’d save us all a whole fuck ton of trouble if she just waited for me to come get her.
She’s so damned determined to survive, fierce in a way that makes my chest ache with something I don’t have words for—pride, maybe, or admiration, or something darker and more possessive.
The bond thrums with it, insistent and undeniable.
She belongs to me in a way that transcends logic or choice or fairness.
We are cut from the same cloth, and I’m grateful hers has yet to know the depths of the depravity of this world.
But if she’s not fucking careful, she will learn.
We don’t have visibility of the train anymore—it’s too far ahead, swallowed by distance and the curve of the landscape, and has probably already come to a stop by now.
But I Slash confirmed she caught a glimpse of them on the train, flying close enough that they no doubt spotted her, but in turn that gave me visibility.
This region is full of tall trees and dense woods—no, it’s not a problem. That’s what Rust’s beast is for, the man behind me now as we alter who takes lead, depending on the terrain we’re in and what checkpoints we pass.
Everyone’s always trying to own the fucking roads.
I can’t allow myself to consider what happens if she makes it to the Black Mirage. What if the Witch Doctor grants her request and severs the bond between us, tears it out root and stem? And I could be as close as twenty minutes away.
My eyes vibrate in my skull as rage and fear twist together into something unbearable. She can’t do that. She can’t unmake what we are to each other. She can’t sever the bond as if she didn’t feel the inkling of something real between us.
I won’t let her.
The station at Red Hood is surprisingly not too shitty.
I turn off my engine and immediately step out, eyeing the train station, searching up and down.
Rust hops out beside me with the clean, easy confidence that asshole always has. “She here?” he asks, directing the question at the animal. “Or do I need to rally a search party?”
“I don’t sense her.”
He nods, touching the tip of his cowboy hat, and he moves quickly.
He motions for me to hand him something, demanding the shirt, and I reach into the truck and smell it one last time.
The next time, it will be from her. Rust takes it and holds it up to the cage, something moving within that makes the whole truck shake in slow motion.
There’s a deep sniff, and I growl under my breath, thinking of the hellhound actually hurting her.
But this thing showing up will also keep others off of her, and it will find Diana.
“Alright, Gnash has the scent. I’ll get him out and ready,” Rust says.
I head straight for the conductor as I can hear Rust removing the tarp. The lean, slightly younger man, stands near the depot looking frantic. His eyes widen when he sees me approach, and he takes an instinctive step back.
“I can’t find them,” he stammers before I even ask.
“We did confirm that one of the stables here had four horses rented out right at the time we arrived, but no intel on who it was. It was the stables past the tavern. We found some furs in the woods, the ones that they had when they first boarded. I think they ran.”
“Obviously.” My voice is flat, dangerous. “How fucking hard was it to keep an eye on them?”
“We’re not a commercial line!” he defends, backing down immediately when I take another step forward. “I—I did what I could—”
“Did anyone go after them?”
“I didn’t know that was a part of the job.”
My eyelids flutter as I roll my eyes.
“What means of transport could they have taken?” I cut him off, not interested in excuses. “They wouldn’t have stayed.”
“You’re as useful as wet fucking match.”
He’s so lucky I’m not on a killing spree right now, even though I can’t stop picturing him spiked by the train.
I head for the stables he described, keeping an eye out for someone pissed off that their shit was stolen in case the women chose that route, too. I catch myself with a ghost of a smile on my face, almost fascinated by Diana if I wasn’t so worried. She’s difficult to pin down.
I know I’ll find her. I’m not worried about that part.
What terrifies me is the longer we’re apart, the more that leaves room for something to happen to her that I can’t prevent. I cover my face with a bandana and throw up a hood. The smell of horses is strong when I reach the front door I’m looking for.
“Looking for a ride?” a woman asks from the shadows, leaning against a post with his arms crossed.
“Are you four horses short?”
“My useless fucking husband took them early this morning. We’ve only got two left.” She looks off, the bags pronounced underneath her eyes. “He’d better have gotten double pay, or I’ll wring his neck when he makes it back.”
I near her, and she only seems mildly concerned about me. “Were they women?”
“Your size don’t scare me. That only works on people afraid to die. Why you want to know if they’re women? Gonna hurt them?”
“One of them belongs to me.”
Her eyes widen a little, looking me over like she’s intrigued. “Well, he left a sparse note. Said he’s got four female riders, all heading for the Mirage. That’s all I got for you.”
I growl low in my throat, demanding to see the note, and sure as shit it says exactly that.
I walk with purpose back to Rust, who he’s unlocking the built-in cage to reveal a massive, demonic beast inside.
The creature moves a little slowly, like it’s coming out of hibernation.
It falls out like a big cat might, but it’s more like a wolf, maybe with some bearish features and size.
Warrogs are notoriously hard to kill, with skin so thick there’s no point in shooting them.
It snarls and shakes its head and body, the dark gray fur and muscle rippling. Lifting its black nose, it sniffs the air, then nudges Rust, who pulls out a massive steak from a bag. “Got these last night, buddy. Sorry, they’re not fresh.”
“They’re on a horse path,” I say, and Gnash slowly looks at me as it chomps the steak. Its golden eyes look me over, as if it recognizes my scent as something it recognizes.
“You comfortable with us splitting up?” Rust asks, his expression thoughtful.
“In what capacity?”
“Take your bike and head south on the main road,” he says, already moving toward his truck.
“Leave that tank of a truck here. You can head her off, and I’ll try to catch her from behind with Gnash.
We’ll meet up at the crossroads just outside the Mirage’s usual territory.
Just follow the signs to see what direction to head in. ”
“How are you traveling?”
“We’ll do it the old-fashioned way,” Rust says with a grim smile, grabbing some rigging to put on the beast. “I’ma ride this asshole.”
I watch as Rust rigs Gnash up, even with stirrups that have clearly been custom made for the warrog.
Gnash’s shoulders are at my height when he stands tall.
He smacks the animal lightly. “Alright. I need to get my shit together for a few days’ worth of travel.
What do you want me to do with the other women? ”
“There’s an echo omega named Rebecca, with her sister Jess,” I say, my voice hard.
“I don’t care about them. They can flee.
The one with short brown hair is named Selene.
” I glare at him, making sure he understands.
“I want her. Don’t care about her condition, other than alive.
” I almost step away before thinking, “Although the least damage, the better. It will upset Diana to see it.”
Rust helps me get Widow unstrapped, and when I get on her this time, my body comes to full life. Fucking perfect. Riding through the wastes like this is exactly what I need to steady myself.
Once Widow is off the trailer, I take the keys and head into town to let whoever runs this place know who I am and that we are leaving our vehicles, and to give them a hefty payment to make sure no one touches our shit.
As I walk, breathing through the bandana, I can feel Diana through the bond.
I’m going to fix this.
Even if she wants to hurt me when I find her.
Even if she hates me. Even if the first thing she does is try to claw my eyes out…
whatever she needs. Whatever makes her feel whole again.
My omega gets to use me as she pleases, to decide what this becomes.
She’s the only person with this kind of power over me, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
But she doesn’t get to run.
Not from me. Not from this.
I'm not stopping until she's back where she belongs—pressed against me with my cock firmly knotted inside of her, her heartbeat synced with mine, her body finally understanding that I am home now.
She will see… in time.