by Addison Cain
From the shadows, Shepherd would reach out a hand to her, silent in the din of wrathful screams, and crook his fingers. To Claire's horror, each night her feet moved one step closer to the thing she feared most.
She would wake in a cold sweat, surging from the couch just to make sure Corday was there. Fortunately, the Beta slept like the dead, snoring just a little. It was a sound that brought her great comfort. Whispering so she would not wake him, she talked to herself, explaining her fear wasn't real. Dreams were nothing more than the influence of the pair bond.
She was free. She got to choose.
When the urge to vomit passed and the fevered trembling ended, Claire would lie back and try to think of nice things. Every night, as she stared at Corday's ceiling, the boy's snores eventually turned into the sound of far more masculine breaths the moment sleep came upon her again. The sensation of a warm hand stroking her hair to soothe her, her unconscious desire to hear only a moment of purrs... One small slip and the dream would invade again; a dozen times a night, a hundred? It felt like a never-ending loop.
The sun would rise and so would Claire, more tired than the day before. Corday noticed it too, she could tell by the way he darted subtle glances at her, how he skirted the walls and made sure not to get too close. Neither of them spoke of her degradation; after all, what was the point? It was not until the fifth day—when Corday told her that he would not be back until morning—that the Beta reached into his pocket and pulled out a circular, white pill.
"This will help you sleep, if you want it."
With a conciliatory smile, he left it on the counter and wished her a good day. Claire didn't touch it, found herself far too mesmerized by the round pharmaceutical and how much trouble they had turned out to be in her life. The temptation to drop it down the sink was as strong as the temptation to swallow it immediately.
All day that little pill stared at her. Her fingers curled at the edge of the counter, Claire crouched down to be at eye-level with the little white temptation. What if she took it and sleep did come? What if the dream came with it, and she could not wake up to save herself from taking those final steps towards a man the manipulative pair-bond was twisting into a savior? What if she took a whole bottle of pills?
In the end, when the dark came, she did not take the little white pill; she hid it instead. Lying in the darkness, buried under heaps of blankets, Claire closed her eyes and the same movie played on repeat in her mind. Silver eyes, an outreached hand, villains and smoke... only that night, each time she woke there was no snoring anchor in the corner of the room for her to pace her heartbeats to. Curled up and delirious from days without rest, she felt she was going mad, hearing things, confused. As the hours stretched by, Claire realized with a creeping apprehension that it was Shepherd's raspy breath she kept imagining in the corner, not the Beta's snores; Shepherd's hand she almost believed was stroking her hair.
She felt in her bones that if she could only hear a few moments of that purr, untroubled sleep would come at last.
Chapter 5
"Shepherd's genetic markers do not match any prisoner on record. I am telling you," Brigadier Dane was adamant, "he was not incarcerated in the Undercroft."
Corday had heard a thousand explanations; not one of them was possible. Outside the Dome spread one hundred kilometers of frozen tundra in every direction, the location of Thólos chosen specifically so any potential diseased wanderers could never survive approach. Everything inside was self-sustaining, and only twice in his lifetime had shuttles been permitted to land. All on board had been female, citizens from other biospheres invited to Thólos Dome to keep the gene pool fresh.
Those who came never left, just as those who had left to serve the same duty on foreign soil would never return.
Scans for all new arrivals were vigorous; there was no way any unexpected life-form could have passed the gates. Even so, the last exchange had been nearly a decade ago.
Voicing his opinion to the few Enforcer stragglers gathered in secret, Corday disagreed. "The man is covered in Da'rin markings. He was branded by the gangs in the Undercroft and labored down there long enough to organize outcasts into an army, to have constructed numerous tunnels that had gone unnoticed all throughout Thólos."
Brigadier Dane was not exactly a fan of Recruit Corday; her patience with the young man was slender. "Then explain why he doesn't exist on record."
Corruption was a disease even the Dome could not filter out. Jaw rigid, Corday said, "Because someone threw him down there off record."
"If that was the case, others would have known. You can't just march down those tunnels dragging a man behind you; the security protocols alone would have been logged. If a soul had gone missing, people would have noticed. What you suggest would require a conspiracy of epic proportions."
There was one man in the room who had the power and the clearance to know. Several sets of eyes turned to Senator Kantor, all of them demanding he confirm that no such atrocity was possible.
The old man raised a hand to silence petty arguments. "I'd like to say it isn't possible, but I can't. Just as it should not have been possible for those trapped in the Undercroft to emerge, for our government to fall, or for our people to have gone mad. There is much about the insurgency we don't know. At this point, the identity of the Followers' fanatical leader is less important than discovering where he has stored the contagion."
Speaking because nothing made sense, Corday sighed. "Brigadier Dane's intel would explain Shepherd's attack on the Senate and why he's hung the corpses from the Citadel. It might be an act of revenge."
Brigadier Dane narrowed her eyes. "Or just the act of a psychopath..."
Twenty-seven bodies in various stages of decomposition polluted the filtered air with stink. Men and women who had served the Dome, chosen by the people, swung in the updrafts.
Then there was the one name no one dared mention; for even after all those months there was still a complete lack of information on missing Premier Callas—the unelected head of Thólos government. All that was known was that the Premier's sector had been locked down in the first moments of the breach, a steel barricade cutting his residence off from the rest of the Dome. Shepherd's Followers ignored it, citizens no longer kept vigil there begging for sanctuary, it was just another shut gate with gods only knew what on the other side.
Brigadier Dane had more to say, the female looking to the last subordinate she expected would actually support her theory—to Corday, her expression distrustful. "But it doesn't explain how he came to be armed with the Red Consumption, or how the disease was smuggled into Thólos."
Grey hair shaggy without the clean trim he'd sported in office, Senator Kantor shook his head. It seemed hard for the old man to speak, to formulate exactly how he was to explain. "Before the doors were sealed, several strains of Red Consumption had been collected for study, the secret of its keeping only accessible to the highest tier of government. Thirty-four years ago, there was an accident in the lab which had been charged with creating a vaccine. The strain had aggressively mutated, a tech was infected. In a matter of minutes, the entire lab was locked under quarantine." Senator Kantor seemed utterly sad, as if reliving the memory of something truly unspeakable. "I watched the security feed. Incineration protocol failed. The souls locked behind the gates, they suffered... before they died."
Horror sat on the faces of those huddled in the dark, the group speechless.
Swallowing, trying to wrap his head around the fact that the very plague which had ripped apart humanity had been knowingly stored inside the Dome, Corday breathed, "And the mutated strain... how did it get out of the lab? How did it get into Shepherd's hands?"
Frowning, Senator Kantor replied, "I don't know. The lab is off the grid, sealed. Even I never knew where it was."
If one of the most powerful men in the senate lacked that knowledge, and with the majority of his colleagues dead or missing, this new information left the ragged Enforcers with nothing but mo
re questions that could not be answered.
Seeing so many struggling men and women consumed with even greater doubt left Senator Kantor squaring his shoulders and taking on the tone of an orator. "Friends, there is still much we do not know, and speculation without fact to support us will only breed argument. We go one step at a time, and trust the gods will lead us to salvation."
Face grim, shaken like the others, Corday offered a worthy, immediate goal the group might sink their teeth into. "I know where we can begin. I have learned that the chem pushers working the causeways are selling fake heat-suppressants. Omegas in hiding are going into estrous while unprepared and most likely exposed. They are being brutalized."
Senator Kantor frowned, seizing on to the offered duty. "Where did you hear of such things?"
Looking at the Alpha, Corday tried not to let his lingering disgust show in his expression. "A few days ago, I came across a very frightened Omega female, collapsed mid-deck."
Brigadier Dane eased a step closer, an intrigued arch in her brow. "What did she look like?"
Corday shrugged his shoulders. "What's that matter?"
"It matters," Senator Kantor explained in a level voice, pulling a leaflet from his pocket, "because there is a very large bounty out on this woman."
It was a flyer, similar to every other wanted sign littering the Dome. The young woman was smiling, her waving black hair tousled as if by an updraft, her green eyes sparkling, gentle and inviting. Claire O'Donnell looked lovely and vibrant... and though the version Corday had met was shattered and frightened, that was the Omega who was sleeping on his couch.
It all started making sense. The women were being harassed in the food lines because everyone was looking for her. And the bounty itself was a king's ransom. "What's she wanted for?"
Senator Kantor's lips went into a line and he shook his head. "I don't know, but she may have information valuable to our cause."
Corday could not take his eyes off the photo. He took a deep breath, let it out of his nose, and muttered, "Then you better come to my apartment." Glancing at the Senator, he added, "But you must understand, she is not going to be comfortable around an Alpha right now. And if you show her that leaflet, it might just send her over the edge."
Senator Kantor was already walking towards the exit. "The rest of you are dismissed. Corday, you will take me to her immediately."
#
It was almost dawn when she heard the key in the door. After a night of hellish sleep and total exhaustion, Claire was jumpy, bolting towards the wall when another man—an Alpha—came in the room behind Corday.
"Don't come near me!" she snarled, looking for anything she could use to strike him with. Settling on a lamp, she clutched it so hard it shook.
Senator Kantor and Corday waited by the door so Claire might feel a bit less cornered.
The older Alpha exercised the kindest voice, soft soothing eyes, and years of experience playing to a crowd. "Do you know who I am?"
With lips pressed in a line and eyes narrowed to slits, she nodded. "You're Senator Kantor." The man known as Champion of the People; beloved by many for his outreach to the proletariat, laboring for the greater good in the Lower Reaches.
"I am not here to hurt you." He cocked his head at the young Enforcer. "Corday says you need help. I'd like to see what I can do."
Her sweaty grip tightened on the lamp. "I don't want you coming any closer."
"I can stay over here." He smiled softly, even backing up a few steps to sit on a stool by the kitchen counter.
It seemed to appease the Omega, and she slowly lowered the makeshift weapon. From the dark smudges under her eyes, Corday could tell she had hardly slept, could smell the lingering tinge of fear in the air. There was a standoff; Claire silent as she watched the Alpha like a hawk. Senator Kantor waiting, letting her do what she felt she needed to.
When several minutes had passed and her chest stopped heaving, the old man began. "You were taking the counterfeit heat-suppressants and went into estrous in a place that was dangerous."
"Yes."
"What happened?"
Rubbing her lips together, she took a deep breath. "What matters... the only way you can help me is to find a way to protect the hidden Omegas. They are starving... they need food."
"I need to know what happened to you before I can figure out how to help you all."
Her back was pressed so sharply against the wall, Claire's shoulder blades dug into it. With an expression that grew positively wretched, she fought to say, "It was dangerous to take our share at the designated areas. More of us were getting picked off every day, and those of us who did get food... it was never enough to feed us all. So it was decided that I would go to the Citadel to ask in person for help.
"I was taking the pills, covered in clothing that had been on a rotting corpse to mask my scent. I climbed the steps and found him. He would not acknowledge me, so I waited." She drew a shaky breath and stopped.
Corday picked up for her, saying cautiously, "And you went into heat in the Citadel..."
Claire nodded.
The young man continued, "And someone took advantage."
She tried to explain, but she just could not get that name past her tongue. "There was a riot, he killed a lot of people and carried me off."
Both men noticed that she had not once said Shepherd—that she continued to refer to Shepherd as him. It was Senator Kantor who posed the question as delicately as he could. "And Shepherd was the one who took you?"
Claire began to cry, whimpering as she fell to pieces. "He refused to give us our share. Instead he demanded I tell him where the Omegas were so they could be taken and used by his men. He forced a pair-bond... kept me locked in his room for weeks." Her hand went to her chest, her fist knocking against it. "And I can still feel him, right here."
They were stunned, both slack-jawed.
A pair-bond... the man was searching for his mate.
Corday shook his head as if it were impossible. He could understand why a villain like Shepherd would rut her through a heat, but to actually pair-bond with a stranger seemed extreme. A bond was forever; there was no known way to break it without the death of one of the pair. And the aftermath was messy—oftentimes the living partner could never pair again. He'd taken Claire for life. No wonder she was so terrified; a man with the power to take over an entire colony, with devoted Followers at his back, was hunting her down and bonded to her.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to stop crying. "I have to tell the Omegas. I have to go to them."
All Corday could mumble was, "You can't go outside, Claire. This is Shepherd we are talking about. His influence under the Dome is almost absolute."
"I can't abandon them. I should have gone sooner, but I—" She didn't need to say she was afraid; that fact was obvious.
"You are a very brave woman." In a voice encouraging and strong, Senator Kantor spoke his piece. "What you tried to do for the others was incredibly courageous, but you cannot do it alone. Let us assist you. Together we'll find a way to help the Omegas."
"How?" Large green eyes went to the soft spoken older man.
"For now we'll get them food, proper pharmaceuticals... but there will need to be a long-term solution. How many are there?"
Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes and stated, "There were around eighty-five the last time I saw them. But it's been over a month, it could be half that number... I have no idea."
"Where are they?" Senator Kantor asked.
Her face grew instantly hard and threatening. Claire straightened her spine and said nothing. She would speak to the Omegas first, they would decide before she revealed the location to anyone. Period.
The woman's challenging expression was not missed. Senator Kantor raised a hand and added, "I mean them no harm."
She growled, a bit of her old spirit coming through. "I don't trust any Alpha."
"I understand." And he did. It would be impossible to expect a woman who had been thr
ough what she had experienced to expose others to the same potential fate.
"Give me a few days to consider all options, to get some food together as well." Senator Kantor stood from his chair, Claire already lifting the lamp again in warning. The Senator nodded a goodbye, and left.
The day passed in silence between Corday and Claire, but that night they watched another film together on opposite ends of the couch, a bowl of popcorn in the middle. Knowing her penchant for comedy, Corday had chosen his favorite, and it seemed to peel away the suspicious attitude that had made Claire restlessly pace all through the day.
When it was time for bed, she seemed settled and Corday went to sleep certain she was stronger than she had been before.
She was.
Once Claire heard his snores, she climbed silently from the couch, stole his coat, and left to find the Omegas. It was dark, the tower lights snuffed, Shepherd's manipulation of the power grid enforcing curfew. Memorizing where she was so she could find her way back to the rambling structure, Claire ran—from shadow to shadow—all the way to a squalid site caught between zones: a frost-covered scrapyard on the lowest level, where every breath came out like fog.
The forgotten dump had been filled, abandoned, and shut up before she'd been born. Nobody went there and the government had never re-purposed the site. Like all things deemed unclean, and due to the fact it was in the frigid Lower Reaches, the area was generally avoided. It was perfect for the Omegas: shelter to sleep in, enough water in the air that it could be collected and drunk without having to draw water in the upper levels and carry it down. But it was an icebox; they had no power and no heat.
"It's Claire!" A shout went up once the black-haired girl made it through a crack in the wall, Claire staggering closer to the women crowded together for warmth.