Chapter 2
Claire was not a violent woman. She did not know how to fight. She was not physically strong.
But she wasn’t defenseless. Claire was fast and clever. She just needed to find a way to use those traits to further her agenda. Deceiving Corday again did not sit well with her, but his loyalty, his intentions, were tied up in Senator Kantor’s leadership.
Maybe the Senator’s plan would work… perhaps rebels could uncover the location of the contagion. Then what? Rally the people over a series of hard years while the Dome continued to crack and more snow fell? Claire was not going to wait to find out.
Feigning complacency, smiling when she was supposed to, Claire acted the part of a submissive Omega and fervently agreed when Corday asked for her promise to stay inside.
Admitting she was terrified of being given back, that she trusted him to protect her, it only took two days of good behavior before he finally left to attend his duties.
Despite the pain each step cost, once alone, she began to pace and plot.
The monster himself had told her she’d failed because she believed in goodness in a city where there was none. He was wrong. Claire knew that she had failed because she hadn’t tried hard enough, thought big enough because, in the end, she’d expected someone else to save her.
How very Omega.
How fucking ironic that the champion the women had chosen had been Shepherd! Laughing under her breath, sickened, Claire gripped her skull.
Nona, the other Omegas—not once had Corday mentioned them. It was the other Omegas, the one’s he’d freed that slipped into conversation here and there. He was trying to shore her up, show that there was hope, but he never mentioned her friends.
Claire knew why. Corday was afraid the temptation to go to them would undermine her promise to stay put. He was right.
Just as he’d threatened, Shepherd had stashed those women in the one place no outsider could get to—the Undercroft. Claire was certain down to her bones.
Getting in would not be easy. Once inside, her quest would grow impossible unless… Claire could encourage the Omegas to stand as a pack and fight.
No one was going to save them—they would have to save themselves. All Claire could do was give them their chance.
In a way, Shepherd may have even done Claire a favor.
He’d have seen to the Omega’s basic needs, wanting them healthy enough for his men.
After so many weeks with food, the women would be stronger, and Claire had a feeling that with starvation no longer clouding their judgment, they would also be very angry.
Anger was the only sentiment Claire seemed to understand most days. Anger was a great motivator.
Turning to pace in the other direction, her elbow winged Corday’s bookcase, knocking a mess to the floor.
Bending over to clean up, Claire froze.
An Enforcer data cube…
Information on Shepherd might be there. Maybe even Svana’s name was tucked into inside an Enforcer file.
Claire plugged it into Corday’s COMscreen and typed out the name ‘Shepherd.’
Nothing.
‘Svana.’
Nothing.
This resource was too valuable to ignore.
There had to be something on there she could use.
Claire just needed to think. She needed to slow her mental chatter, to breathe.
A cold sweat came as her finger tapped the screen, spelling the name of the only criminal Claire knew.
The COM flashed, beautiful chocolate eyes staring back at her.
Claire knew the contemptuously smirking face on that woman’s credentials, every angle of it. Even though it had been years, Claire still knew how she smelled, what her laugh sounded like. Leaning nearer the screen, the Omega almost smiled.
The next hour was spent absorbing every single detail the data cube contained on one repeat felon.
Maryanne Cauley had amassed quite a record: assault, larceny, burglary, arson…
her file was massive. From the looks of it, the stunning lawbreaker had gone from cocky repeat escapee of farm labor to…
nothing. Her file just stopped—no record of further incarceration, no address, no date of death. She had just disappeared.
If Claire had not known what had been done with Shepherd’s mother, it would not have felt like a very… disturbing coincidence.
She did not know what made her do it, but her fingers typed out one final name: ‘Claire O’Donnell.’
It only took a moment to see the flaw on her citizenship registration. If Maryanne Cauley still lived, Claire knew where she’d gone to ground.
Corday had come back to find his apartment cold and empty, lifeless where there should have been a small Omega resting on the couch. Corday had hated leaving her, but she had sworn so faithfully, admitting that she could hardly walk on her feet, that he had believed her.
Claire had fooled him. Claire didn’t trust him. Claire had left him… again.
There was a note:
Dear Corday,
I can’t live a lie and stay hidden. Not the way things are now. I want you to know that no matter what happens, I chose – fully aware of the consequences.
Love,
Claire
She had signed ‘love’ but there was no apology.
He knew where he stood and the position was painful and deeply upsetting.
Knowing her obsession with the Omega situation, Corday folded up the letter and shoved it in his pocket.
Zipping up his jacket, he went right out onto the causeways and fought through the snow to where Brigadier Dane secretly sheltered the leader of the resistance.
Banging on the door, Corday refused to let up until the woman answered.
Dane glared. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Corday did not wait for an invitation, pushing his superior officer aside as he growled, “Like hell I shouldn’t.”
“Have you lost your mind?” The door was swiftly locked, the invading cold air shut out. “Showing up here in broad daylight endangers us all.”
Looking back at the soldier, Corday deepened his scowl. “It’s dumping snow outside, no one’s on the street and my tracks are already being covered. Where is Senator Kantor?”
“I’m here,” a voice sounded from the dwelling’s back room.
Ignoring the snarling Brigadier Dane, Corday pulled the note out of his pocket and stomped over. “She left.”
Senator Kantor set down his COMscreen and took the note. One brief read over and the old Alpha shook his head. “I’m sorry, Corday. It’s not like we could have locked her up.”
“Claire is going to do something crazy!” Practically tearing out his hair, Corday snarled, “We’ve gotta stop her.”
Senator Kantor shook his head, his tired eyes bloodshot and sad. “We cannot risk exposing ourselves on a manhunt. We both know she recognized we couldn’t help her. Do you understand that, kid?”
“She’s going to get herself killed!”
Speaking in a low voice, the Alpha tried to convey sense and a much needed measure of calm. “The Omega is pregnant, she’s pair-bonded and mentally detached. She doesn’t have much time left, and she knows it.”
Rubbing his forehead as if he could wipe away his frustration, Corday demanded, “What are you saying?”
“I am saying that Claire is fighting what must be a nightmare inside her. Her timeline is short and she is making her choice.”
“I told you. The pair-bond was damaged.”
Senator Kantor dropped the fatherly tone in place for one far more authoritative.
“She’s damaged. Her determination is the only thing keeping her together.
You try to cage her, or stop her, she’ll fall apart.
And that would only open her up to his influence again.
It might be best to let her do what she needs to do while she can still do it. ”
“We both know she’s going to try to get those Omegas out of the Undercroft,” Corday hissed. “It would take an army and she’s just one girl.”
Senator Kantor fully understood what was at stake. “She has an advantage, a hostage, and you don’t know where she is. Nothing can be done. Believe it or not, my bet’s on her.”
“He’ll KILL her.”
“Read the letter again.” Senator Kantor handed the crumpled page back. “No one can comprehend the consequences like she can. She’s a grown woman who’s made her choice, just like we ask our brothers and sisters in arms to make every day.”
“This is fucking insanity!” Corday stormed out of the room, the note crushed in his grip. “I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring her home.”
Brushing past a frowning Brigadier Dane, Corday found himself caught.
His arm in her grip, Dane’s face was red and her hiss nasty.
“You will do no such thing. Return to your home. Cool off before you jeopardize the entire resistance with your impulsive stupidity. Think, for once. Whatever this Claire has planned, distracting her or getting yourself killed won’t help anyone. ”
Corday was strongly tempted to violence. “You don’t know Claire.”
“I don’t, but I know you. And I know when you’re wrong.”
The weather was absolute shit. A blessing and a curse, as it seemed Thólos was hiding from the unfamiliar storm. No soul walked the streets to pester her, and though falling snow made the path difficult, the trek left her soaked to the bone and shivering violently.
In all the years since Claire had last walked the midlevel promenade, she’d forgotten much. The tight dwellings were still celery green, but it took her some time to remember which window had once housed a flower box full of red poppies.
There were no splashes of color now… no flowers. Soon even the withering trees would be nothing but sticks. All there was, was that too cheerful green peeking out from clinging frost, broken windows, and refuse.
Three flights up, third domicile on the right.
Standing face to face with a once familiar door, Claire jiggled the handle and found it locked. Running her fingernail around the frame, she felt a bump in the crack—a spare key hidden just as it had been when she was a girl.
The inside was dark. No one was home.