Page 7 of Born to be Broken

Cheek to his shoulder, she agreed, “Aren’t we all a little these days…”

2

Claire was not a violent woman. She did not know how to fight. She was not physically strong.

But she wasn’t defenseless. Claire was fast and clever. She just needed to find a way to use those traits to further her agenda. Deceiving Corday again did not sit well with her, but his loyalty, his intentions, were tied up in Senator Kantor’s leadership.

Maybe the Senator’s plan would work… perhaps rebels could uncover the location of the contagion. Then what? Rally the people over a series of hard years while the Dome continued to crack and more snow fell? Claire was not going to wait to find out.

Feigning complacency, smiling when she was supposed to, Claire acted the part of a submissive Omega and fervently agreed when Corday asked for her promise to stay inside. Admitting she was terrified of being given back, that she trusted him to protect her, it only took two days of good behavior before he finally left to attend his duties.

Despite the pain each step cost, once alone, she began to pace and plot.

The monster himself had told her she’d failed because she believed in goodness in a city where there was none. He was wrong. Claire knew that she had failed because she hadn’t tried hard enough, thought big enough because, in the end, she’d expected someone else to save her.

How very Omega.

How fucking ironic that the champion the women had chosen had been Shepherd! Laughing under her breath, sickened, Claire gripped her skull.

Nona, the other Omegas—not once had Corday mentioned them. It was the other Omegas, the one’s he’d freed that slipped into conversation here and there. He was trying to shore her up, show that there was hope, but he never mentioned her friends.

Claire knew why. Corday was afraid the temptation to go to them would undermine her promise to stay put. He was right.

Just as he’d threatened, Shepherd had stashed those women in the one place no outsider could get to—the Undercroft. Claire was certain down to her bones.

Getting in would not be easy. Once inside, her quest would grow impossible unless… Claire could encourage the Omegas to stand as a pack and fight.

No one was going to save them—they would have to save themselves. All Claire could do was give them their chance.

In a way, Shepherd may have even done Claire a favor. He’d have seen to the Omega’s basic needs, wanting them healthy enough for his men. After so many weeks with food, the women would be stronger, and Claire had a feeling that with starvation no longer clouding their judgment, they would also be very angry.

Anger was the only sentiment Claire seemed to understand most days. Anger was a great motivator.

Turning to pace in the other direction, her elbow winged Corday’s bookcase, knocking a mess to the floor.

Bending over to clean up, Claire froze.

An Enforcer data cube…

Information on Shepherd might be there. Maybe even Svana’s name was tucked into inside an Enforcer file.

Claire plugged it into Corday’s COMscreen and typed out the name ‘Shepherd.’

Nothing.

‘Svana.’

Nothing.

This resource was too valuable to ignore. There had to be something on there she could use. Claire just needed to think. She needed to slow her mental chatter, to breathe. A cold sweat came as her finger tapped the screen, spelling the name of the only criminal Claire knew. The COM flashed, beautiful chocolate eyes staring back at her.

Claire knew the contemptuously smirking face on that woman’s credentials, every angle of it. Even though it had been years, Claire still knew how she smelled, what her laugh sounded like. Leaning nearer the screen, the Omega almost smiled.

The next hour was spent absorbing every single detail the data cube contained on one repeat felon. Maryanne Cauley had amassed quite a record: assault, larceny, burglary, arson… her file was massive. From the looks of it, the stunning lawbreaker had gone from cocky repeat escapee of farm labor to… nothing. Her file just stopped—no record of further incarceration, no address, no date of death. She had just disappeared.

If Claire had not known what had been done with Shepherd’s mother, it would not have felt like a very… disturbing coincidence.

She did not know what made her do it, but her fingers typed out one final name: ‘Claire O’Donnell.’