Reborn (Alpha's Claim Book 3) (12 page)

“Be careful about who you call little, Beta.”

Whatever false playfulness he had been enacting faded, but he was not offended, not even in the slightest. Putting his hands on the table Jules leaned over and asked, “When she tries to kill you, what are you going to do?”

The answer was simple. “I’m going to die.”

The way his thin lips stiffened, Claire could see he was disappointed in her answer. “Your dramatics do not impress me.”

“I think you comprehend a lot more about what’s going on than even your leader. Shepherd knows she does not love him, she has used him, yet still he, like you, believes in something incomprehensible and obeys.” Claire tapped her finger on the table. “With all this knowledge you both follow the psychopath we know wishes Shepherd’s mate and his unborn child dead. The situation as it is, with men like you, how long do you really think I will survive? You and all your unsolicited guidance, friend, do not impress me.”

Jules straightened and snorted. “You know what I see when I look at your pictures? All of them are finished. All but one.” he tugged out the smirking self-portrait she had made for Shepherd weeks ago. “Tell me, Miss O’Donnell, why the portrait of yourself is only an outline?”

“Why don’t you tell me, Jules.” Her voice was as unfriendly as her expression.

“I once thought it was cowardice that held you back.” The man shook his head. “I was incorrect. You are no coward. And yes, you are clever... just as clever as you are stupid.”

Claire quirked her lips, fighting a smile at his lecture.

Jules ignored her and continued. “But I know what it is. I see you now.” The painting of her was pulled from the others and turned so that it faced the artist. “You’re willfully incomplete.”

“It sounds like I fit perfectly into Shepherd’s army of psychos.”

“You lack unbiased perspective and throw so much motivation at the wrong problem... and you know it. Had you met Shepherd under different circumstances, this painting would have color. You are very lucky Shepherd fights for what he wants.”

Gritting her teeth she snarled, “I fight. I fight every goddamn day.”

The man shook his head of unkempt hair. “Not for him.”

Looking away, sullen she grunted, “I fight for Thólos.”

“Stop fighting for Thólos. Fight for your family.”

With narrowed eyes, Claire leaned forward in her chair to confront the standing male. “And just who would I be fighting against? To me it looks as if the enemy is the same.”

Jules put his hands on the table and leaned down menacingly. “You cannot have both and you know it. Thólos or your son—a city full of murderers and rapists, of people who have turned their backs on you—or your own innocent flesh and blood.”

Frowning, ready to throw the barb back in Jules’s face, Claire asked, “What would Rebecca have done? Would she have sacrificed her ideals?”

“In every way. My Rebecca willingly gave herself to Senator Kantor to save the lives of our children.” The man spoke as if it was nothing, taking on his mask of lifelessness. “Yet he mounted her and made her watch as his soldiers executed our boys the very moment he made the claiming marks. He wanted a
free
Omega.”

There were very few things in life that cut as deep as what Claire had just heard. It trumped everything she had seen in Thólos and pained her greatly. Slack-jawed, it took her a minute to speak. “I am sorry.”

A flash of something dark came to Jules’s expression. “No you’re not. If you were sorry, you would want to make certain such a thing never happened again, no matter the cost.”

Claire echoed his words. “No matter the cost.”

And then he knew. “You still think your death would make any difference? You would throw away your life for nothing, destroy the child growing in your womb for nothing. Do you understand me? It would change
nothing
. Remove those thoughts from your mind.”

Spine ramrod, Claire made no reply.

Cocking his head, Jules came to a decision. “Shepherd needs to be told that you are struggling in this manner.”

“There is no need,” Claire offered, her own voice laced with weariness. “Shepherd is standing right behind you.”

Jules was still. There was no look of disbelief on his face or even a trace of fear, simply placid acceptance. At the first obvious sound of another man’s breathing, the Beta turned and nodded at his leader. “Sir.”

Looking at Claire, the Alpha barked at his subordinate, “You’re dismissed.” Jules moved at once towards the door. Once the sound of the locks was thrown, Shepherd took the seat across from her. “You know his name and history... he has freely told you these things.” Shepherd seemed amazed and equally unsettled.

“You should not be angry with him. He is your greatest advocate, and I was the one who initiated all conversation.” Urging him to not react negatively to what she’d revealed, Claire admitted, “There were times I needed someone to talk to, and he only did it for you. I know he doesn’t like me.”

There was a look in Shepherd’s eye, buried under heaps of disapproval was a large dose of envy. “He has spoken on your behalf more than once. Jules
likes
you a great deal.” Something was going on inside the Alpha, a stiff calculation of odds. “Do you always argue with him?”

“Always.” She fought back the tick at the corner of her lips. “Your friend greatly enjoys reprimanding me.”

Hooking a finger on the tray, Shepherd pulled it before his mate and gestured for her to eat. “You are behaving as if you feel playful, but you are upset. I am willing to discuss Svana and Corday.”

“I don’t doubt that for an instant.” She knew he was trying to maneuver, and offered him a sullen smirk at his attempt. Claire picked at the fresh fruit. “I, however, do not want to hear you gloat about how my friend has been manipulated by your beloved.”

“Little one.” Shepherd leaned back in his chair and leveled her with those eyes. “You need not be threatened by her. I love only you.”

After swallowing a bite of melon, Claire put down the fork. She let out a sigh, her expression falling flat. “If I say please, can we drop the topic? You have taken my world from me. I don’t need to hear about how I have lost him too.”

The purr began the second it was clear she was upset. “You have Maryanne.”

“But for how much longer?” It was a pointed question that matched the sinking feeling in her stomach. “I feel like everything is slipping through my fingers and I don’t know why.”

“We will lay down now.” Shepherd purred louder, standing and moving towards her. “Come, little one.”

Frustrated, she complained at his course, feeling he did not understand what she was saying. “No amount of fucking is going to make me feel better about what I just heard.”

He was already pulling her dress over her head, kneading the tension in her shoulders. “Time will soothe you and so will I. This is just one bad day. It will pass.”

“We are running out of time. Decide. Where is Shepherd keeping Claire?”

They were back in Senator Kantor’s tomb, arguing over his body as they always did. “I DON’T KNOW where she is, Dane. That’s the point. All I know is that she is in the Citadel.”

Brigadier Dane, leaned closer to their shared COMscreen. “Show me a projection of the building’s layout again.”

“Claire jumped off the roof near the back.” Corday explained, squinting at the image. “He keeps her locked out of sight, and would not have taken her far from his den, especially knowing her penchant for escape. She has to be near this location.”

The older woman nodded in agreement. “And there are no windows in her cell; she told you it was grey, so no decorations either, only concrete. There must be running water for her use.” Pointing to a segment embossed in the middle of the building’s foundation, Brigadier Dane said. “She is here, somewhere on one of these two underground levels. Or she’s here,” Another branch of the building in a completely different quadrant was highlighted, “tucked between the loading docks and the ventilation systems. Both locations are fortified, few entrances. Once I am inside there will be even fewer exits.”

Brown eyes hard with intention, he warned, “Bombs will be going off above you. The only plausible way to get her clear of the blast is to go underground.”

“The Undercroft?” Brigadier Dane hummed, scowling over her thoughts. “There must be tunnels spanning the building, the very tunnels Shepherd used the day of the breech. Show me the maps of the prison. We need to estimate which locations he would have found strategic for invasion.”

“These are outdated, originals from when the Undercroft was built. Shepherd’s Followers may have designed a whole network of shafts not on these maps. If you get lost...”

“I don’t get lost.” Irritated, Dane’s eyes flashed away from the screen. “So tell me, Enforcer, which one of these locations am I going to infiltrate?”

Sighing, knowing if he picked the wrong place to look for Claire, that she, that Brigadier Dane, would die, Corday said, “We need a second team.”

“That is not possible.” Dane had explained this before. “You know that is not possible. Not with two days. Not without Leslie learning what we plan to do. You have to choose one of these potential locations. You have to commit.”

How on earth was he to do that without more definitive information? What if she was in neither spot? What then?

Brigadier Dane had seen him question himself over Claire’s position time and time again. “Don’t even consider going after her yourself. You would be noticed by the rebels, shot for a traitor before you got within ten paces of the Citadel. Think of what Claire would want. She wants our people to be free more than she wants her life. You have a duty to her. When Shepherd has been deposed, there must be elections, real democracy. Leslie Kantor will not offer those things. She will declare martial law... nothing under the Dome will change except the name of our dictator.”

His superior officer was right, of course. Anyone who had seen how Leslie,
Lady Kantor
, comported herself, how she fed zealotry to her rebels in the name of her uncle, would grasp that any power she had at the end of this mess would be amplified by her desires.

She wanted to be a queen, was going to massacre tens of thousands of people to achieve her goals.

Seeing that the Beta grasped where they stood, Brigadier Dane got back to the subject at hand. “Now, tell me Enforcer Corday, is Claire in the east corridor or the basement?”

He didn’t know, but he was desperate enough to approach someone who might. “Give me one more day.”

Brigadier Dane frowned. “Fine. One more day to make your choice, or I choose for you.”

Corday left the woman with his precious data cube so she might study and memorize every last pathway. Hands shoved into his pockets, he walked the streets, squinting from sunlight glaring off dirty frost. Light snow invaded the Dome, crusting everything, the white flakes a sign the glass above them had cracked further.

It was going to be a long walk to the place where Maryanne Cauley hid.

Almost three months had passed since the first time he’d found out just who Claire’s old buddy really was
.

During a standard reconnaissance mission, he’d seen a familiar face climb the Citadel steps. Blonde braid tied at her back, red lips smirking as if she were the true villain behind it all—the bitch who’d once burst into his apartment looking for Claire had walked right into Shepherd’s seat of power.

She was dressed in Follower’s blacks.

Corday had waited, sneaking closer. It was hours before she’d left, but when the scamp dared walk down those steps, he shadowed her home. It was easy to track her—so easy he suspected she was
letting
him follow her.

Seeing that woman, one who’d claimed to be Claire’s best friend, had stirred up the most sickening hope. After all, it was the Alpha female who’d come to his home looking for their shared acquaintance, who’d had the clothes Claire had last been wearing, who’d claimed that their mutual friend would have traded her life for theirs. Why else would that sneak visit the Citadel, smirking as if bearing a gold embossed invitation to tea?

Everything was about Claire.

He had not approached her then, could not risk the mission by engaging with the female wild-card. All Corday had done was watch her. Now, Maryanne Cauley might be Claire’s only hope.

Desperate to uncover any information about his friend’s prison, the back of his knuckles banged out three staccato knocks against a traitor’s door. A few seconds later Maryanne was there, smirking like a cat about to lick up cream.

The bitch had the audacity to purr at him. “I was wondering when you were gonna come crawling to me. The men always do, you know.”

Ignoring the female Alpha’s rich vibrations, Corday elbowed past her and barged inside.

Just as he’d hoped, there was a trace of Claire’s scent in the cluttered room... one that emanated from the pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

Moving deeper, tracing his finger over lines of furniture, Corday said, “You have been frequenting the Citadel. Why?”

Brushing against him as she moved to the couch, full red lips held a naughty smirk. “I’m a Follower, Corday.”

“Do you always lie? You know I’m an Enforcer. You know where I live... no one has come for me.”

“I survive. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”

The very tone of her voice revolted him. “Knock off the whole temptress game. That shit is never going to work.”

“That’s too bad,” she chuckled, taking a seat on her couch. “I like pretty Beta boys.”

“I’m sure you hate me as much as I hate you.”

“That would only make the sex more interesting, don’t you think?”

Corday snorted.

“It’s okay,” Maryanne teased. “I can smell Leslie Kantor all over you. Going after the Premier’s leftovers...” She tutted. “You must have a thing for entangled women.”

“I want to talk about Claire.”

The Alpha’s shark smile withered, Maryanne grew deadly serious. “Talking about my dead best friend is the last thing that is going to happen here.”

“When you go to the Citadel, does Shepherd let you see her?”

“Claire is dead, Corday. Move on.”

“I know he has her.” God, it was hard to admit that out loud. “I have to get her out. If you love her, you need to help her.”

There was a look of honest emotion, a deep sadness in Maryanne’s lovely eyes. She took a tired breath and sighed. “Claire is gone, Corday. She killed herself. You need to stop whatever madness you’re cooking up.”

Voice curt, Corday admitted, “If I can’t get her out in the next forty-eight hours, she’s going to die. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Maryanne shrugged. “Keep on dreaming lover boy.”

He took a seat at the far end of her couch. Elbows on his knees, forehead resting against his clasped hands, he whispered the greatest secret under the Dome. “Leslie Kantor has convinced the rebels to blow up the Citadel. The bombs have already been built. There is nothing I can do to stop it.”

There was no reaction from the blonde; it seemed she didn’t care.

Corday’s scowl deepened, he looked her dead in the eye. “There are only two days left before they strike. Please, just tell me where he keeps her. Tell me so I can save her.”

“You’re kinda cute when you’re delusional. Now, if you’d like to fuck I’m still game.” Her sultry voice was back, Maryanne crawling towards him like a playful kitten. “Otherwise, go pester someone else.”

Disgusted with the woman and her malice, Corday told her to go fuck herself before storming out of her home.

When he was gone, Maryanne let out a long breath and let her head fall back against the couch. For a second there, she’d been so certain Claire’s other lovesick puppy could see right through her act. But she’d done well. Even Shepherd would have to agree, and she was certain he’d seen every last moment of the conversation from the surveillance equipment she knew he’d stashed all over her home.

Now she needed to brace for Shepherd’s reaction, because it was clear the psychopath had it bad for Claire and possessed no clue how to properly handle such feelings. Shit, he’d almost ripped her head off when Claire only kissed her goodbye once.

Did anyone appreciate how much she was actually doing to help these resistance assholes? And Enforcer Corday, Maryanne hated his fucking guts, and was keeping him alive when all she’d have to do to assure his slow death was hint that the Omega lived, or warn him that there was absolutely no plausible way to get to her.

But, if what the Beta claimed were true, Corday may have saved Claire simply by opening his big, fat mouth. Shepherd would not expose his mate to danger. Heck, he wouldn’t even expose her to anything but plastic cutlery.

Maryanne raised her head and decided she deserved a medal. After all, what if Corday had actually taken her up on the offer to bang her?

Shuddering at the thought, she stood and went to take a very hot shower.

Jules watched the screen, having heard every last murmured insult traded between Maryanne Cauley and Enforcer Corday. Rooted, overlooking several monitors mounted on the Command Center’s wall, he issued an immediate order. “Summon Shepherd. Code Red.”

The Alpha was at the Citadel, less than five minutes away. That was all the time Jules required to initiate command sequence Exodus.

When his commander arrived, Shepherd watched the recorded exchange; he looked to his second-in-command. It wasn’t a ruse on the Enforcer’s part; Shepherd could read the pathetic resistance fighter too well. Onscreen there was no scheme or subterfuge. The man believed every word he’d spoken, was disturbed by it. Furthermore, Maryanne Cauley had begun to pace once the Beta slammed the door. Both of them had been infected with what would be dangerous intention.

Shepherd knew the cause of the disease.

Love.

Maryanne, Shepherd could control, but the Beta was going to be a problem. He would have to be disposed of, deal with Claire or no.

There was a throat noise, a grumble, as the Alpha absorbed what was slated in the report. There was only one plausible explanation. Leslie Kantor,
Svana
, was planning this terrible thing.

A fire in Shepherd’s eyes, a scent of righteous fury emanating from his pores, he said, “You were right, brother.”

There was no vindication upon hearing Shepherd’s confession. Jules was above such things. “Svana would plan her strike midday, assuring the majority of your Followers were trapped inside. I estimate she would need less than fifty men if her plan is indeed to demolish the Citadel.”

Of course she would plan mass causalities, take out as many of her enemies as she could with one blow; Shepherd had taught her that. It was exactly what he had done when he’d unleashed the prisoners from the Undercroft. “Push up launch procedure. I am calling for an immediate exodus.”

“The order was already issued.” Jules had to state the risks, the chance of failure. “It will take a minimum of twenty-four hours to ready the ships. Your men will be scattered, occupied with loading and prepping transport. The Citadel will be exposed, the guard greatly reduced. The Followers might not be able to find all the bombs.”