Page 23 of Waiting for Fate
Shared pain is one of the rarer connections and difficult to uncover. I’ve only been able to realize we share this type of bond because of the enhanced empathy I have toward Bea. Without me being severely injured, to the extent of breaking a limb or something on a similar pain level, Bea may never fully feel our connection.
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom huffs, “You’ll make it work. Fate always has a way of bringing us together when we least expect it.”
“I’m not giving up until she’s mine,” I promise. The words reverberate through my mind, growing in intensity as they seep into my soul. No matter how long it takes, Bea Powell will bear my bite and be bound to me for life. Of that, I have no doubt.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TENSION PULSES INmy head as I study the list of Primordial Covenant’s tour stops, comparing them to the list of campaign stops New Hampshire Senator Adam Pierson will be making. Stops that don’t align with his rallies, but are in between, are apparently still a threat. Much like the unexpected disaster in Grand Rapids last night.
When I got the call from the venue owner explaining the situation with protesters lined up outside, I immediately jumped into action. If they were in an area known for anti-pack ideals, I would have already had the bands prepared for potential altercations. Grand Rapids is a pro-pack territory, which made the sudden appearance of Pierson’s followers extremely frustrating.
Thankfully, a small RV campground in Northwest Ohio could quickly accommodate the tour buses. For a hefty fee, of course. Not that the money matters. The safety of our bands and road crews takes priority over everything else.
My landline beeps with an intercom message from Jane. I press the button, steeling myself for whatever additional issue has arisen now. “Mr. Acherley, your brother is here to see you.”
Shock draws my brows together, but I’m quick to stand and collect him. Jericho is only an inch shorter than I am, with a thicker build and unruly, black hair. He gives me a cocky grin as soon as he sees me, our eternal rivalry surging to the front of my instincts as we shake hands. Both of our grips are too tight, but with my sibling, I can’t help the beast I become.
“Okay, Jericho. What brings you to my office?” I ask as I close the door behind him.
His playful demeanor shifts to something subdued, putting me on edge. This must be a professional call instead of a personal visit. He works for the FCDA as an internal agent in charge of monitoring information networks worldwide.
“When the FCDA hired me, I promised to alert you to any threats to the safety of your staff while they are touring.”
I nod, remembering the agreement we’d come to. In exchange for his heads up, my tours were always open to undercover operations if he needed a way into a city without alerting the locals.
“A breeding ring has opened on the East Coast.”
His words have me dropping into my seat, anger warring with disgust. Breeding rings are one of the most severe form of sex trafficking to emerge since designations awakened around the world a hundred years ago. They kidnap unbonded alphas and omegas intending to force them into heats and ruts so they will bear new alphas and omegas. They then auction those children off to the highest bidder.
It’s despicable.
“We’ve been trying to track them down for the past few months, but their operations have recently escalated. Where they were previously only abducting a handful of people every few months, they’ve tripled their numbers over the past two weeks.”
“Which suspiciously coincides with Senator Pierson’s announcement of his presidential run,” I bite out. This certainly changes my plans for the rest of our band’s tours. Until the ring is dismantled, we will have to up internal security measures significantly.
“That was our assumption as well, but you know how things go.”
I jerk my head in agreement, already pulling up the details of our current security firm. Proving this ring has a connection to the New Hampshire religious cult led by Pastor Grant Montgomery will be nearly impossible. In all the years I’ve supported the DAU and FCDA, no one has ever found enough evidence to take them down.
“Business aside, how are things? Have you given up on this life of solitary and found a mate yet?”
I level a glare his way, a frown pulling at my lips. My brother has a pack of his own and a beautiful omega mate. Something he has thoroughly enjoyed rubbing in my face every chance he gets.
Briefly, Sabine’s deep blue eyes flash through my mind, but I’m quick to brush the image aside. Being mateless is my choice. One day, I may take a chosen beta mate, but I will never accept an omega bond. I’m not built to share my partners, something I have reiterated to Jericho several times.
“No, I have not.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “One day you’ll meet an omega who shakes your world up, big brother. I cannot wait to watch you crumble when you do.”
His phone rings, the call ending our brief meeting. He throws me a wave as he heads back out of the office, leaving me with more work and a slew of phone calls to make.
After a quick briefing with the owner of the security company hired by the label, I call Brady. He’s as horrified by this new threat as I am, but he’s strong enough to channel his anger into productivity. Drafting check in schedules and a head count for all the crew on his tour. We will double and triple check to ensure no one goes missing on our watch.
“I’ll inform all the security teams of this development,” he says as we bring our call to an end.
“Only speak with the security hired by the label. I will speak with the DAU bodyguards myself.” He grunts an amused sound but doesn’t comment on the insistence in my tone.
After hanging up the call, I take a moment to pour myself a small glass of whiskey. My instincts are alight with worry for my omega manager. Sabine has a DAU sanctioned bodyguard tailing her twenty-four seven. She will be safer than any of the rest of our staff. Yet my brain demands we track her down to make sure she is safe with my own eyes.
