Page 16 of Wild Omega

The crusty metal digs into my palms as I grasp the first rung and step up. The winter air turns the metal chilly, but it’s bearable. Not so bad. I reach for the next step. A dozen rungs up, my muscles seize and I loop one arm through the square to rest for a moment. If I’m too slow, the Bitches will come back for the last few hours of my heat and catch me. Time to hurry up. If I’m playing a spy character, a bomb would be ticking away in the building under my feet.

I use that thought to push myself as I grit my teeth and climb, trying to ignore the waves of fever still clamping my belly. That’s the heroine’s stab wound, and I’ll get medical treatment when I’m out. Nothing else exists except the rust under my hands, the sweat running down my back, and the desperate need to put one hand above the other and haul myself up.

Life is pain; therefore, I am still alive.

I’m three-quarters of the way when I step up and the rung snaps off beneath my foot. I scream as I swing into the ladder with a thump, my trembling arms taking my full weight. The broken metal bounces against the concrete and falls with a loud clang, echoing around and around the silo.

I squeeze my eyes shut, quivering all over as I cling to the ladder. A sharp, hot sting scorches through my face and when I dab my fingers to my forehead, they come away bloody. I probably haven’t even had a tetanus shot since I was a child.

A setback like this would never stop a spy. I grit my teeth and make the last climb to the top without incident, pushing under the domed rain cover and tumbling over the lip of this air exhaust or whatever it is.

The scent of damp earth and trees washes through me, clearing the haze fog completely. A chuckle escapes me as I flop on my back and stare up at the weak golden sun partially hidden by pine branches. I made it out. The trees overhead wave in the breeze to welcome me as I lie grinning and bleeding on their floor, my breath misting a little in the cold air.

As I sit up, a whiff of nicotine hits me, followed by licorice, and I spasm all over. Dread poisons my stomach at the sight of Ray leaning on a rock nearby, watching me as he smokes like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Our eyes meet and he grins lazily. “Does the sunlight feel good, hellcat? Enjoy it while I finish my cig because you’ll probably never see it again.”

The spy let her guard down. I always hate that part in movies when the heroes stop to talk at the critical moment when the trap is about to spring. Fuck that!

I take off, tripping over my own feet in my haste as I tear downhill between the trees, slapping away overgrown ferns. My legs shake so badly I don’t have a frog’s ass chance of escaping uphill, so down it is. I run like the devil’s on my heels, because he is.

Ray’s laughter and heavy footfalls chase me.

How far to civilization? My breath wheezes with every lunge, and dampness seeps into my flimsy indoor shoes. Mentally I mark a big tree ahead as my goal, then another as I reach it. All that matters is moving at top speed.

But my top speed slows with every step.

A thickset arm catches me around my waist, dragging me off my feet and I scream. Ray slings me to the ground, bracing his arms on either side of me, and dampness soaks through the back of my shirt instantly.

“We’ve had our fun, ‘Lev.” He pauses to catch his breath, which roars hot and disgusting across my face. “Now it’s time to go back inside and finish your heat.”

“My heat’s broken!” I spit out.

He drops his nose and inhales near my throat. “Not quite.”

“Let me go,” I whine. “Please.”

Ray smirks. “Then who’s gonna pay my bills?”

I chase down the tears by lunging at him, teeth bared to bite off his other earlobe. He grabs my hair, and I scream as I rebound, pain exploding across my scalp. “This is personal, now,” he growls, easygoing manner evaporating. “I think you need some time to reflect on your actions.”

Ray hauls me to my feet and twists my arms painfully behind me, frog marching me uphill while still pulling on my hair. “You think you don’t like the nest now? How about two months spent in there all by yourself, shitting into a bucket?”

Spies don’t beg, not even stupid ones who let their guards down. I fight him with all I’ve got, silently begging lightning to strike him or a tree to fall so I can push him underneath. A spy would have a team of snipers in the pines ready to cover her exit, but this agent’s been undercover so long her team forgot she existed. Everyone abandoned me.

When the exhaust tunnel comes into view, Ray shoves me to the left and follows a ridged track for a hundred feet before stopping in front of a cave. “Take a deep breath of that fresh air, ‘Lev. It’ll need you to last a lifetime.”

“Fuck you!” I hiss, because I can’t smell anything past his charred licorice stench. “Your mama fucked a sea slug to make you!”

He chuckles and swings me into the cave, where a bunch of trucks with lifted suspension line up beside an elevator door. I squeeze my hands tight, feeling the raw skin blistering on my palms from the horrendous climb. All for nothing.

Bitches One and Two wait for us at the bottom of the elevator. The first asshole slaps me straight across the face. “Wasting our bloody time, you bitch!” She swings again and Ray doesn’t stop her like he did before my heat as she unleashes her heavy palms across my flushed cheeks. I stagger.

Torture for the spy? I won’t say a word. Won’t let on that my alphas are here in my mind, trying to hold me together.

At least until they carry out their threat of two months’ solitary confinement in the dark, with the stale scent of haze and licorice lingering on the walls—then I scream.

Chapter seven

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