Chapter Eight

P earl was cranky the next morning. Instead of letting her drink his blood to heal again, Maverick made Esmerelda patch her up the old-fashioned way. Then he disappeared for the rest of the night. She was mad that he was avoiding a conversation with her. He could run, but he couldn't hide.

She stepped into the dimly lit telegraph office. The room smelled of tobacco and ink. The flickering gas lamps cast shadows on the walls. Approaching the counter, Pearl nodded at the operator, a weathered man with wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. The name Hank Johnson was on the name plate on the counter. "Mornin'," she said.

"Mornin'." Hank looked up from his work. "What can I do for ya today?"

"I need to send a telegram to the Pinkerton office in Pine Valley," Pearl said.

He nodded, reaching for a slip of paper and a pencil. "All right. You got the message written down?"

Pearl pulled a crumpled note from her pocket, smoothing it out on the counter. "Yeah, just a few words," she said. "Here it is."

Coming in soon with Maverick. Need more details about vampire mating bond.

Hank glanced over the message, his eyebrows raising in alarm.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"Nope," he said quickly. "Looks good to me."

Pearl watched as Hank's fingers danced across the telegraph key, tapping out the dots and dashes of the message with practiced ease. The rhythmic clicking filled the room, punctuated by the occasional clack of the key as he paused to adjust his grip.

As the last of the message was transmitted, he leaned back in his chair. "There you go," he said, handing her a slip of paper with the encoded message. "That'll be two bits."

"I'm going to go grab some breakfast. I'm waiting on a response. Can you send someone over with it if it comes in before I get back?"

"Sure." Hank nodded.

She headed over to the saloon and ordered a plate of eggs, bacon, and biscuits. She was sipping her coffee and ignoring the surly looks from the other patrons who either weren't used to a woman or a lawman being in their presence so early in the morning. As she ate, she read through Sarah's notes from the journal about the mating bond.

The mating bond among vampires is a profound connection, marked by a distinctive emblem tattooed on both partners. It signifies a deep and lasting tie between them. When a vampire finds their true mate, it triggers a surge of magical energy.

During the bonding process, both the vampire and their mate may experience a weakening of their abilities. They are vulnerable to attack. Physical contact, from holding hands to intimate acts, strengthens the bond. Surviving the bonding process results in the vampire breaking off from their sire and gaining newfound powers. However, the process is fraught with risks and uncertainties, making it a daunting prospect for many vampires.

Surviving the bonding process? Did that mean that Maverick could die? Pearl nibbled on a slice of bacon. Maybe it was for the best that he didn't know they were bonded. Maybe it would go away on its own. She felt a profound sadness at that, but she didn't want to explore the feeling any closer.

A boy came running in just as she was finishing up her last cup of coffee. "Message for you, miss."

She tossed him a nickel and eagerly opened the envelope.

Come back ASAP. Finalize the Maverick situation. Bring back the gold.

Nothing about the vampire mating bond. But more importantly, how did she know about the gold?

Looks like she was going to be spending the majority of her day with Hank until they settled this.

***

T HAT NIGHT, PEARL BARGED into the hideout where Clyde and Harlan were counting the gold. Esmerelda was nowhere in sight, but Maverick was sitting in the next mineshaft on an old sawhorse, nursing a glass of wine—or maybe it was blood.

Maverick looked up from where he sat. A muscle ticked in his jaw at the sight of her, eyes dark with guilt and self-loathing.

"We need to talk." Pearl's voice was hard as flint. "Now."

Maverick set his glass down heavily and stood, avoiding her gaze. "Ain't sure that's a good idea, darlin'. Not after what I... what happened last time we were alone."

Pearl marched over to him, the air between them crackling with tension. "I don't give a damn. Sarah sent urgent telegrams. This can't wait."

The space between them was charged with an electric current that spoke of both danger and desire. His haunting blue eyes, windows into a tormented soul, skittered away from her gaze. When he still hesitated, she grabbed his arm with a firm grip, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. Yanking him after her, she led them to the room where they had made love just nights ago. Being there again sent a shiver down her spine, memories of tangled limbs and heated caresses threatening to distract her from the task at hand.

Pearl released him and paced, rubbing her wrist where the mate bond tattoo pulsed like a second heartbeat. The intricately inked rose seemed to bloom beneath her touch, a reminder of a bond he wasn't ready to acknowledge. She wrestled with the sensation, the knowledge of their connection and the primal urge to seek comfort in his arms.

"Talk then," he said.

Pearl swallowed hard, the air thickening around them, laden with unspoken words and suppressed yearnings. She needed to focus, to deliver the news that threatened to sever whatever fragile tie was forming between them. "Sarah," she started, forcing her mind back to the task at hand, "knows about the gold."

"How?"

"She assigned a Pinkerton agent, a wolf shifter named Jasper, to shadow me and provide backup if needed. Jasper witnessed us finding the stolen gold shipment and immediately reported back to Sarah."

"Son of a bitch," Maverick cursed.

"There's more." Pearl hesitated, knowing he wouldn't like what came next. "Sarah wants the gold. Says it's crucial for dealing with the supernatural threat they're recruiting you for."

Maverick whirled to face her, eyes flashing crimson. "Like hell! We had a deal. That gold belongs to my gang. Sarah and her lot can find their own damn funding."

Pearl moved closer, hands held out placatingly, even as her heart raced. "Maverick, listen to me—"

"The Pinkertons can't just demand the gold, not after our original agreement." His voice was low, dangerous. "I won't let them strong-arm me or my gang."

"I understand your anger." Pearl kept her tone even, soothing. "But Sarah wouldn't ask for the gold if it wasn't important. This supernatural threat is big. Bigger than any of us realized."

Maverick scoffed. "And I'm just supposed to take her word for it? Trust the same people who've been spying on us?"

He turned away, but not before Pearl caught the flicker of hurt in his eyes. The realization that the organization he'd considered joining had betrayed him.

Her hand itched to reach out, to offer comfort. But she curled it into a fist instead. "I know trust is a lot to ask right now. But I'm asking you to trust me, Maverick. I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe this was necessary."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Maverick spoke, his back still to her. "I can't just hand over the gold, Pearl. Not without more information. My gang needs that money, needs to know I have their backs." A pause, then quieter, "I need to know you have mine."

Pearl's heart clenched. She wanted to promise him that, wanted it desperately. But duty held her tongue. "Come back with me tonight," she urged instead. "Talk to Sarah directly, get the details you need. Then we can figure out our next move together."

Maverick turned slowly, meeting her gaze. In the dim light, his eyes looked more haunted than ever.

"And if I don't like what I hear? If I still refuse to give up the gold and I decide to go my own way?"

He left the question hanging, the implication clear. Pearl swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his stare.

Somehow she had to make him see reason, convince him to cooperate. Otherwise, Sarah's orders were clear. Bring Maverick in tonight, willing or not. And if he resisted...Pearl's hand drifted to the wooden stake concealed at her hip. She prayed it wouldn't come to that. The thought of being forced to use it made her stomach turn.

"She has plans for us."

"Plans," Maverick repeated, pushing off the wall, his movements deliberate, predatory even in his restraint. His proximity sent a shiver down her spine, the dance of shadow and light playing across his chiseled features.

"I can't disobey her," Pearl said, torn between the gravity of her mission and the undeniable draw to the man before her. Her loyalty to the Pinkertons warred with the burgeoning affection for this haunted outlaw sheriff, this vampire whose very existence defied the world she knew.

"Can't or won't?" Maverick challenged, closing the distance until mere inches separated them. His presence enveloped her, a storm about to break.

"Both," she admitted, her resolve fraying at the edges. The throbbing of the mate bond tattoo intensified, a cruel reminder of the stakes at play. She fought the longing to close the gap, to lose herself in the tempest of his embrace.

"I don't like this," he said. "The Pinkertons are not known for playing fair. And now they want to change the terms of our deal?" He shook his head. "It stinks, Pearl. It stinks to high heaven."

Pearl moved closer, tentatively resting a hand on his arm. She could feel the tension thrumming through him, coiled and ready to snap.

"I know," she said softly. "I don't like it either. But this threat, it's bigger than all of us. Bigger than the Pinkertons, bigger than your gang."

Maverick turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "You really believe that, don't you? That this is some kind of noble cause, that the ends justify the means?"

Pearl met his gaze unflinchingly. "I have to believe it. I can't accept the alternative. I won't."

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the air between them crackling with tension. Pearl's heart raced, her breath coming short and shallow. Maverick's hand absently drifted to his chest, rubbing the spot where Pearl suspected his mate tattoo lay hidden beneath his shirt. The gesture sparked a flicker of curiosity within her, a longing to see the mark that bound them together.

"We need to leave tonight," Pearl said, her voice low and urgent. "Sarah was clear about that."

Maverick's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble-shadowed skin. "I don't like being backed into a corner. But I'll come with you and hear Sarah out. I'm not promising anything beyond that, though."

Relief crashed through Pearl like a wave. She sagged forward, her forehead coming to rest against Maverick's chest.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for trusting me."

Maverick's arms came up around her, holding her close. Pearl breathed him in, leather and gunpowder and something uniquely him.

"I trust you," he murmured into her hair. "It's the Pinkertons I'm not so sure about."