Chapter Nine

U nder the cover of the night, Pearl and Maverick rode into Pine Valley, Missouri, their horses' hooves clattering against the dusty streets. The Pinkerton headquarters had lanterns lit and activity flashed by the windows. Pearl's body ached with exhaustion, the long night's ride taking its toll on her mortal frame. Beside her, though, Maverick sat tall in the saddle.

"You seem chipper," Pearl groused.

"How's your neck?"

Pearl's fingers brushed against the faint marks left by Maverick's fangs. The memory of his bite, the rush of pleasure and pain intertwined, sent a shiver down her spine.

Maverick's eyes followed her movement, his expression turning regretful. "I'm sorry for losing control."

"It wasn't as bad as you think it was. We were both caught up in the heat of the moment." She considered telling him about the mate tattoo, but she didn't want him to feel that he had forced the outcome when he lost control.

Sarah Quinn came out of the Pinkerton headquarters and scowled at them as they tied up their horses. "Where the hell is the gold?"

Maverick's jaw tensed at Sarah's sharp words, but before he could respond, Pearl stepped in. "We had to travel light and fast to get here."

Sarah's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized them both, her gaze lingering on Maverick with undisguised suspicion. "The gold was meant to secure our resources for this mission."

"I need some more details about the mission," Maverick said, stepping up on the porch.

Sarah didn't step back, and they stood chest to chest, glaring at each other. Finally, Sarah threw up her hands. "Enough! We have more pressing issues than arguing over the damn gold. But don't think this is over." She spun on her heel and marched down a hall. "Follow me. The briefing room is this way."

Pearl and Maverick exchanged a charged glance before falling into step behind Sarah. As they made their way deeper into headquarters, passing polished oak doors and walls lined with wanted posters, Pearl's skin prickled with awareness of Maverick's looming presence. The pull she felt to him was magnetic, undeniable. It took all her focus to keep her mind on the task at hand.

Sarah shouldered open a door at the end of the hall, gesturing them inside. "Welcome to the war room," she said grimly.

Pearl stepped over the threshold and froze, taking in the scene before her. A large table dominated the center of the room, covered in maps and documents. Serious-faced Pinkerton agents huddled in clusters, poring over the papers and speaking in low, urgent voices. The very air seemed to hum with tension and barely suppressed energy. Sarah strode to the head of the table, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. She placed her hands on the polished wood, her eyes sweeping over the assembly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, her voice grave, "we are facing a threat unlike any we have encountered before. A new supernatural enemy has emerged, one that threatens to upend the very fabric of our society."

A murmur rippled through the room, the agents exchanging worried glances. Pearl felt a chill run down her spine, the gravity of the situation settling heavy on her shoulders.

"A powerful vampire has been amassing an army of supernatural beings, intent on overthrowing the human world and establishing a reign of darkness. He's been operating in the shadows for centuries, carefully building his power base. He's a master manipulator, able to bend others to his will through a combination of mind control, dark magic, and sheer charisma." She tapped a finger on one of the maps spread out before her. "Our intelligence suggests that he has strongholds scattered across the country, hidden in plain sight. From these bases, he has been recruiting supernatural beings of all kinds—vampires, werewolves, witches, and creatures we have yet to identify."

Heaviness settled over the room as the scale of the threat became clear. Pearl's mind raced, trying to process the implications of such a vast supernatural conspiracy.

"Why build an army?" Pearl asked.

"Power. Control. Domination. He believes that supernatural beings are the rightful rulers of this world, and he intends to make that a reality. If we don't stop him, he will plunge humanity into an age of darkness and terror, where monsters reign supreme." Sarah swept her arm out, encompassing the controlled chaos. "As you can see, this vampire uprising is no small matter. If we don't stop it..." She shook her head. "I don't even want to imagine the destruction that madman could unleash. But we've gotten lucky."

"Lucky how?" Maverick drawled.

"John's here in Missouri with just a handful of guards. He's looking for gold." She stared pointedly at Maverick.

Maverick grew as still as a statue. "John who?"

"John Wilson Clark."

Glancing over at Maverick, Pearl saw a muscle tic in his clenched jaw, his eyes dark and haunted. Pearl remembered he had called out to a John when the amulet had possessed him.

Myriad emotions played across his face—shock, fear, and a deep, simmering anger that threatened to boil over at any moment.

"John Wilson Clark," Maverick repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "He's the one behind all this? The vampire uprising?"

Sarah nodded, her expression grim. "He's a powerful vampire, centuries old, with a sadistic streak a mile wide. He's been turning humans and building his army in secret for centuries, biding his time until he's ready to strike."

Maverick's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

"Do you know him?" Pearl asked Maverick.

"Know him? He was created by him," a grizzled old agent guffawed.

Pearl gave him an ugly look, and he sobered up. "Is this true?" she asked Maverick in a gentle tone.

He gave a curt nod.

Pearl's mind raced back to Maverick's delirium, his feverish cries for John echoing in her ears. She could almost see the agony that twisted his face as he relived the torment of his transformation, feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips as she tried to comfort him. The realization that John had been the one to turn Maverick sent a shiver down her spine. She feared that the darkness of his past was swallowing him whole, dragging him down into its inky depths.

"His endgame is nothing short of chaos and destruction," Sarah continued, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. "And he must be stopped before he tips the balance between vampires and humans beyond repair."

As the briefing continued, Pearl watched as Maverick withdrew into himself, his eyes fixed on the maps that charted the possible locations of where John was holing up. She could see the weight of his past bearing down on him. She longed to reach out, to offer him comfort, but the gulf between them seemed to grow with each passing moment. When Sarah finished the briefing, she turned to Maverick. "You must know something about your maker's whereabouts, or at least how to track him down. Can you help us?"

Maverick's jaw clenched and his eyes flickered with pain and turmoil. "I need a moment," he choked out, rising from his chair. Without waiting for a response, he strode from the room, leaving Pearl staring after him, her heart heavy with worry and uncertainty.

The door slammed shut behind Maverick, echoing through the dimly lit headquarters like a gunshot. Sarah's rage simmered beneath her icy fa?ade as she turned to face Pearl, her brown eyes blazing with fury.

"Damn it." Sarah slammed her hand on the table. "We can't afford any delays. We need to find John and stake him through the heart."

Pearl's gaze lingered on the door through which Maverick had vanished, her thoughts consumed by his struggle. She knew that he was fighting a battle within himself, torn between the man he had been and the creature he had become.

"Where the hell is the gold, Pearl?" Sarah demanded, her voice sharp and unforgiving. "We need to keep it out of John's hands."

Pearl hesitated, her loyalty torn between her mentor and the man who had captured her heart. "It's with Maverick's gang."

"Then it's as good as gone. We'll never see a penny of it." Pearl opened her mouth to protest, but Sarah cut her off with a raised hand. "And another thing," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Why did you ask about vampire mating bonds in your telegram yesterday? What aren't you telling me?"

The other Pinkerton agents who had been trying to appear invisible during Sarah's tirade suddenly looked very interested in the conversation.

Pearl felt her heart rate increase, the secret of Maverick's mate bond tattoo hidden beneath her sleeve weighing heavily on her chest. She couldn't reveal that truth—not now, when everything was so uncertain. Instead, she deflected, feeling the sting of betrayal at her own dishonesty. "I was just looking for weaknesses. Can the mate bond be broken?" she asked, her question driven by equal parts fear and hope.

Sarah eyed her warily. "If the bond isn't solid, it will break on its own."

Deep down, Pearl didn't know why she felt like crying at that knowledge.

As the minutes ticked by, the weight of Maverick's absence grew heavier on Pearl's heart. Unable to bear it any longer, she decided to go in search of him. He needed to know about the tattoo that marked her as his mate. They had to decide if they wanted to strengthen their bond or let it break on its own. She hoped desperately he would choose the former.

"I should go check on Maverick," Pearl said. "Make sure he's all right."

Sarah waved her away, already turning her attention back to the maps and documents scattered across the table. Pearl slipped from the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way through the twisting corridors of the Pinkerton headquarters.

She had to find Maverick, had to tell him the truth about their bond, but he was nowhere to be found within the headquarters. She hurried outside. His horse was missing from the hitching post, the only trace of his presence a faint cloud of dust on the horizon. Pearl felt the air leave her lungs in a rush, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her.

Maverick was gone.

He had left her, abandoned her without so much as a word of farewell. The betrayal cut deeper than any blade, a searing pain that left her breathless and reeling. Pearl strode back into the Pinkerton headquarters and burst into the briefing room.

Sarah looked up from the map she was studying, her brows knitted together in concern. "Where's Maverick?"

"Gone," Pearl said, her voice tight with barely contained emotion. "He's gone, and we have work to do."

Sarah looked like she was going to say something but then thought better of it, and assigned out individual tasks.

"Pearl, I'm going to need you to go after that gold."

"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.