Zeke: The Boundarylands Read online




  Zeke

  The Boundarylands Omegaverse

  Callie Rhodes

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  The Boundarylands Omegaverse Series

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  She wasn't going to make it.

  The wail of sirens filled Darcy Winters's ears. Flashing blue and red lights lit up the inside of her car, the steep canyon to the right whirring by in a blur.

  No matter how hard she floored it, the cops were gaining on her.

  "Come on. Come on." Darcy gripped the steering wheel even tighter, leaning forward as if the force of her will could push her little hatchback faster.

  It didn't work.

  A split second later, Darcy screamed as one of the cruisers rammed her rear bumper. The impact slammed her forward into her steering wheel.

  She glanced frantically into the rearview mirror to see what she already knew was there—the cop car practically on top of her, preparing to come at her again.

  At least Darcy was prepared for the next impact. She held tight to the wheel as her car was rammed to the right, barely missing the guard rail. Through some miracle, she managed to stay on the road.

  The bastards were trying to force her over the edge to her death.

  Of course they were. By now, the Baron brothers had to know where she was headed—the only place where their authority didn't reach.

  The Boundarylands.

  Darcy was under no illusion that she'd be safe there--not in the traditional sense of the word. She was a lone woman, driving straight into the heart of alpha country. As recently as yesterday, she wouldn't have dreamed of doing something so stupid and reckless.

  But a lot had changed since then.

  The most important being that Scott Baron was dead.

  His blood was still all over Darcy’s hands. On her clothes. In her hair.

  And now his brothers were on her tail, fired up for vengeance.

  How the hell had she gotten mixed up with an entire empire of corrupt cops?

  The same way she always ended up in trouble—by ignoring her head and listening to her heart instead. Though in Scott Baron's case, Darcy had been following someplace south of her heart.

  Of course, she wouldn't have to worry about any part of her anatomy if she didn't stay focused on getting over the boundary.

  She was close—less than a mile away. No doubt that was why the Baron brothers were becoming more desperate, bashing into her car over and over, leaving rubber on the road. Someone up above must be looking out for her because Darcy had somehow managed to avoid plunging over the edge so far.

  On the next impact, she heard a deafening pop, followed by a cascade of raining glass.

  Darcy screamed as both her back window and windshield exploded, splintering into a thousand little fragments of safety glass.

  Those bastards were shooting at her now! They were done fucking around. They wanted her dead, and they no longer cared if it was messy.

  Well, screw them.

  Darcy hunkered down in her seat, gritting her teeth and putting her full weight on the gas pedal. It didn't do a damn bit of good—her little two-seater was already topped out—but at least she wasn't giving up.

  Just up ahead, she could see the sign clearly marking the boundary between the beta world and alpha territory.

  She was almost there.

  Another shot sounded behind her.

  And another.

  Darcy's screams had become a hoarse wail, but she kept going…until finally, her tires passed over the line.

  And just like that, the cop cars fell back, the last of their gunshots echoing in the night.

  The treaties didn't allow beta cops to enter the Boundarylands, not in an official capacity anyway. Of course, Darcy knew first-hand that the Baron brothers didn't care about rules. But apparently, the threat of getting torn apart by beasts twice their size was enough to deter them.

  Darcy risked poking her head up just high enough to steal a glance in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, both police cruisers had pulled to a stop just on the other side of the border.

  Darcy let out a gasp of relief, savoring the first deep breath she'd taken in the last twenty-four hours, knowing it would probably be her last for a while.

  Because now she had to figure out what the hell she was going to do next.

  The Boundarylands were every bit as dangerous for Darcy as for Scott's brothers. Maybe more so.

  After all, everyone knew the only thing alphas liked to do more than kicking beta ass was destroying beta women—throwing them down, riding them hard, and hoping they came out the other side an omega.

  And if they didn't—

  Darcy shuddered at the thought, but then her anger flamed again and ignited her determination. She didn't plan on surviving the Baron brothers just to end up a broken husk of a woman chained some alpha's bed, that was for damn sure.

  Some of that certainty faded as a warning chime sounded, and the fuel indicator lit up on her dash.

  Fuck.

  She had known she was running low, but hadn't realized how low until now. It hadn't been her prime concern while she was dodging bullets, and it wasn't as if she could pause in the middle of car chase to top off the tank.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  Darcy had no idea—and she only had about fifteen miles to figure it out before the well ran dry.

  She balled her hands into fists and hammered the steering wheel, cursing every shot of tequila and top-shelf vodka that had led her to thinking it was a good idea to go home with Scott fucking Baron just twenty-four hours ago.

  Unsurprisingly, her little fit of anger didn't help matters.

  Especially when she glanced into the rearview mirror to see that the Barons had doused their headlights and were slowly rolling over the boundary line.

  Oh shit.

  She hadn't expected that. Darcy knew the Barons would never give up hunting the woman who'd killed their brother, but, for some reason, she hadn't expected this. Ignoring the Treaties was tantamount to a suicide mission.

  At worst, she'd thought they might call for backup, and there'd be a blockade waiting for her at the other end of the Central Road. Or maybe they'd ditch the cop cars and come looking for her in civilian clothes.

  But no.

  Apparently, they weren't willing to wait for their vengeance.

  Darcy's mind raced as she tried to think of a new plan. Anything would be better than giving up, flinging herself at their feet, and begging for mercy.

  But what other option did she have?

  She was stuck—racing deeper into the Boundarylands with every passing second, surrounded by nothing but dense forest and wild alphas, with a couple of bloodthirsty brothers on her tail.

  She was well and truly fucked.

  Her only hope now was that all her tires would pop at once, and she'd die in a fiery crash rather than a bullet to the head.

  Wait.

  Honestly, that wasn't a bad idea.

  Not the dying part, of course—but the Barons didn't have to know that. A crashed car, smoke, and fire—it just might provide the distraction she needed.

  Hell, at this point, Darcy figured it was the only chance she was going to get.

&
nbsp; She waited for the next turn in the road, and when the police cruisers had disappeared momentarily from the rearview mirror, she grabbed her heavy purse, wedged it down on the accelerator, and cracked open the door. After whispering a little prayer, she threw herself out the door before she could chicken out.

  The air left Darcy's lungs as she hit the ground, loose scree tearing into her bare arms and ripping her clothes. Somehow she managed to stay tucked tight as she rolled, letting the movement absorb the impact. She came to a stop as the sound of twisting metal filled the air.

  Darcy shielded her eyes with her arms as she lifted her head…but nothing happened. No fireball, no flames—just the remains of her little car wrapped around the trunk of a towering redwood.

  Well, shit. Maybe cars only exploded in movies.

  Darcy didn't have time to wallow in disappointment. She pushed herself up to her feet and hobbled into the woods, barely making it out of sight as the flashing lights careened around the turn and came to an abrupt stop.

  Moving as quietly as she could, Darcy sank to her knees on the loamy forest floor behind some dense shrubs, wincing at a sharp stab of pain in her hips. It seemed she'd taken more damage in that fall than she first realized.

  "What the fuck is this?" The sound of Robert Baron's voice sent shivers down Darcy's spine as he stepped out of his car.

  "Keep your damn voice down," his brother David cautioned. "Do you want one of those things to hear you?"

  Robert frowned. Being the oldest of three brothers, he didn't like being told what to do…but being the dumbest meant he had gotten used to it.

  "Like they didn't hear the crash," he muttered. "You think she's inside?"

  "How the fuck should I know?" David said. "Go look."

  Robert shot his brother a dark look before unholstering his pistol. "Fine. But if that bitch is in there, I'm ending this now."

  Darcy shuddered at the sight of Robert’s departmental-issued Glock…the same kind of gun she'd used to kill Scott.

  She had to get away from here.

  "Two more steps and you'll be trespassing on my property," a deep, impossibly low voice rumbled.

  Darcy snapped her head toward the sound and saw a man standing amidst the trees no more than ten feet away.

  No, check that. Not a man.

  A goddamn giant—well over seven feet tall and built like a tank. Darcy shrank involuntarily from the sight.

  She instantly knew who he was. What he was.

  An alpha.

  And just like that, Darcy knew she had been wrong before. Now she was well and truly fucked.

  Chapter Two

  Zeke Proctor knew he should have started checking the traps on the western edge of his land this morning, rather than those nearest the road. The animals whose pelts he traded were usually smart enough to steer clear of the pavement, even though there was hardly any traffic.

  If he'd started his rounds there, he would have been miles away when the roar of car engines at the boundary line reached his ears. He sure as shit wouldn't have bothered trekking all the way back to investigate the sound of some flimsy beta junk heap crashing into a tree.

  And he definitely wouldn't be staring down a frightened woman with hot pink hair, a fringed miniskirt, and last night's makeup smeared under her eyes.

  For someone whose appearance was so bright and brassy, she didn't seem to want anyone looking at her. Hunched behind a bush, she was paralyzed by fear. Every muscle in her body tensed as her gaze flicked from him to the two betas standing in the middle of the Central Road, then back to him. The panicked beat of her heart grew more frantic by the second, but Zeke had a feeling it wasn't because she was less than ten feet away from trespassing on his land.

  Shit.

  Zeke checked the angle of the sun, confirming that this interruption meant that he wouldn't finish his chores in time to hike up to Green Lake. Especially since the jack-offs the woman was hiding from in the road weren't lost hikers.

  They were cops.

  And as far as Zeke was concerned, there was no good reason for a couple of beta cops to be over the boundary. Not even if they were chasing a woman covered in somebody else's blood.

  "You can calm the fuck down," Zeke told the woman, not bothering to conceal his irritation, but keeping his voice low enough so the beta cops wouldn't hear him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  Screw that. He didn't plan on even touching her.

  Not that it mattered. Zeke's words clearly weren't getting through to the woman. Her round, honey-brown eyes didn't show even a spark of understanding—only terror.

  Great…just great.

  Why the hell did these betas have to play out their little drama next to his property line?

  The temperatures had been warming over the last week, the snow gone except for traces on the highest shadowed peaks. The birds were starting to return, filling the trees with songs meant to attract mates. Spring was just starting to break through winter's brittle shell, and Zeke had planned to celebrate with a swim in the lake to mark the end of a long winter spent holed up in his cave of a cabin.

  His plans definitely did not include dealing with petty beta squabbles, but this sort of trouble couldn't wait. Someone had to scare these outsiders back where they came from—and he was the only alpha around at the moment.

  Zeke’s sigh came out as a growl, and the woman's eyes widened even farther.

  He ignored her fear and inclined his head toward the road. "You want me to get rid of them?"

  She didn't answer—just kept staring at him. It figured—betas didn't handle fear well, letting it lead them around like a ring in the nose. Zeke didn't get how they could stand to be so cowardly. Alphas were born more with than enough courage, just as coyotes were born with more than enough cunning. Betas, in his experience, had little of either.

  Zeke didn't bother asking again. Turning his back on the woman, he stepped out of the trees and started for the road, not bothering to be quiet about it. With every step, Zeke crushed twigs and gravel underfoot, deliberately making his approach loud enough that even a beta couldn't miss it.

  "Oh, fuck," the closer of the two beta cops muttered, unholstering his weapon.

  "You don't want to do that," Zeke said as the second cop fumbled with his own gun, eventually managing to aim it directly at his chest.

  Zeke studied the betas. There wasn't much difference between them. They had the same dirty blonde hair, same cold blue eyes, same stink of vengeance and deceit. They almost looked related.

  "Stay where you are," the one closest to him ordered, failing to conceal the quaver in his voice. "Put your hands where I can see them."

  Zeke rolled his eyes, deciding the cops were even dumber than they looked. "That shit might work in your world, but you gave up all authority back at the boundary."

  "Yeah, but we're the ones with the guns," the taller cop said.

  If Zeke had been in a better mood, he might have laughed. "You'd better be packing something a hell of a lot bigger than that 9mm if you want to slow me down."

  The shorter cop had the sense to take Zeke at his word and lower his pistol. "Lower your weapon, Robert," he called to his partner.

  "But David—"

  "Goddamnit, lower your weapon," the first cop repeated.

  After a long, tense moment, the one named Robert finally relented.

  "Good," Zeke said. "Now, get back in your cars and go back the way you came."

  The one named David shook his head. "Can't do that."

  "Yeah, you can," Zeke said, balling his hands into fists at his side. "Do yourself a favor—you're starting to piss me off."

  "Listen," David said, speaking rapidly, turning his back on his partner. "We don't want to be here either, and we're not looking for any trouble, but we're on the trail of a murder suspect. She tried to escape by crossing over the boundary. We had no choice but to follow."

  "That's your problem," Zeke growled. "Not mine. Now leave."

  David's eyes nar
rowed, peering into the dense woods along the edge of Zeke's property, his gaze lingering on the spot where he had emerged. Zeke could practically see the gears whirring inside his head.

  "You didn't happen to see this car crash, did you?" David asked.

  "I told you to leave."

  A tiny smile flickered across the cop's face as if that were all the answer he needed, and he stood a little straighter. "Did you see a woman get out of this car? She would have been hard to miss—bright pink hair, clothes all torn up, covered in the victim's blood."

  Zeke snorted. "You betas came to the wrong place if you're looking for a woman."

  "Maybe," David said cagily. "Then again, maybe not. You should know that while the woman we're after may look innocent, she's actually a cold-blooded killer. You might want to think twice about protecting her."

  "Is that right?" Zeke said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  "Yeah," Robert said. "She killed our brother last night."

  Ah. So the cops were related—and they were on a mission of vengeance. That, at least, Zeke could understand.

  Though he wondered what their brother had done to get himself killed.

  David scowled. "Shut up, Robert."

  "But—"

  "That's enough." The muscles along David's jawline danced with tension. It was obvious he was used to having the last word. He turned back to Zeke. "You do know it's against the treaties to harbor a beta fugitive in the Boundarylands, Mr. …"

  Zeke had had enough of this bullshit. No piece-of-shit beta cop got to roll into the Boundarylands uninvited and school him on the law, no matter how much firepower he was packing.

  "Too bad you didn't read all the way through the treaties," he snarled. "Especially the part about what I get to do to trespassing betas who threaten me and my property."

  David paled, stumbling back a step in the direction of his police car.