Page 25 of Captured Desires

“I’m on it,” she said.

“And stake Maverick. He’s a risk. We can’t have him joining John—or worse, letting him know the Pinkertons are tracking him in Missouri.”

“Got it.”

As the agents dispersed, Pearl felt a twinge of pain in her heart. She thought of Maverick, of the bond that had formed between them, and the knowledge that it might never come to fruition. But she pushed the feelings aside, burying them deep within herself. There was no time for sentiment, no room for weakness. She had a job to do, and she would see it through to the end.

Even if it meant losing the man she just now realized she loved.

Chapter Ten

Pearl urged her horseonward, the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the dusty trail echoing the turbulent thoughts racing through her mind. The weight of her mission hung heavy on her shoulders, the stark reality of what she might have to do settling like a leaden knot in her stomach. Harlan, Esmerelda, Clyde—they were Maverick's gang, his family. The thought of driving a stake through their hearts, of watching the light fade from their eyes, made her feel sick.

But there was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt. The Pinkertons were counting on her, and the fate of countless innocent lives hung in the balance. She had to be strong, had to do what needed to be done, no matter the cost.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through her wrist, yanking her from her troubled thoughts. Pearl glanced down, her eyes widening as she saw the rose tattoo—the mark of her bond with Maverick—throbbing and weeping crimson blood. The sight of it sent a jolt of fear through her, mingling with a strange, insistent tugging sensation that seemed to emanate from the very core of her being.

Maverick was in danger. She could feel it with every fiber of her soul, a bone-deep certainty that overrode all other concerns. The pull was leading her away from the mine, away from Maverick's gang and toward an unknown destination.

For a moment, Pearl hesitated, torn between her duty to the Pinkertons and the irresistible call of her mate bond. But in the end, there was no choice to be made. Maverick needed her, and she would move heaven and earth to get to him.

With a sharp tug on the reins, Pearl wheeled her horse around, urging the animal into a gallop as she gave herself over to the insistent tug of the bond. The landscape blurred around her, the wind whipping at her face as she rode harder and faster than she ever had before.

As the miles fell away beneath her horse's pounding hooves, a sickening realization began to dawn on Pearl. The direction she was heading, the landmarks flashing by—they were all too familiar. She was riding straight toward one of the locations the Pinkertons had marked on their map, a place they suspected was one of John's hidden strongholds. It was a cabin, deep inside a forest. The path was overrun with weeds and branches, so she was forced to tie up her horse and go on foot.

She crept up on the cabin with her Colt revolvers drawn and her hickory wood stakes tucked into her belt. The first of John's minions lunged at her from where it had been hiding behind a tree. It was a grotesque creature with mottled gray skin and razor-sharp claws. Its eyes glowed a sickly yellow, fixing upon her with a hungry intensity. For a fleeting moment, Pearl worried that her newfound mating bond might have weakened her, dulling the lightning-quick reflexes that had served her so well in the past. But as she raised her revolvers and took aim, she found that her hands were as steady as ever, her focus razor-sharp.

She squeezed the triggers, the guns bucking in her hands as the bullets found their mark. The creature stumbled back, dark blood oozing from the wounds in its chest before it crumpled to the ground, twitching in its death throes.

More minions emerged from the trees, a nightmarish assortment of shapeshifters and twisted abominations. Pearl moved like a woman possessed, her revolvers barking out a staccato rhythm as she danced amidst the horde. She sidestepped a lunging werewolf, putting a bullet between its eyes, before whirling to face a charging vampire. Dropping one revolver, she pulled out her stake. The sharpened point plunged into the creature's chest, piercing its dead heart. It let out a shriek of agony before bursting into a cloud of ash that swirled around her like a macabre veil. She quickly picked up her pistol and moved on.

The acrid scent of gunpowder mingled with the cloying stench of blood and decay. Her revolvers spoke again and again, each shot finding its mark with unerring precision. When the guns ran empty, she holstered them smoothly, relying on her stake and her wits to carry her through the fray.

A towering brute of a vampire lunged at her, its massive fists swinging with terrifying force. Pearl ducked beneath its grasp, her stake lashing out to bury itself in the creature's thigh. It roared in pain and fury, but she was already moving, ripping the stake free and plunging it into the vampire's back, piercing its heart from behind. It stiffened, a look of shock and fury etched upon its monstrous face, before it crumbled into a heap of ash at her feet.

But even as she dispatched the last of the creatures, Pearl knew that the true battle still lay ahead. She could feel Maverick's presence, could sense his pain and desperation, a force that tugged at her very soul.

---