Chapter 32 : THE RUGARU GAMBIT — PART 1
The Winchester alert hit three days later.
[PRIORITY NOTIFICATION] [WINCHESTER BROTHERS: ACTIVE HUNT DETECTED] [LOCATION: LINCOLN, NEBRASKA] [TARGET: SUSPECTED RUGARU ACTIVITY] [RECOMMENDED ACTION: MAINTAIN DISTANCE]
I read the report twice. Then I pulled up everything the Hunter Intel Network had on the case.
Jack Montgomery. Thirty-one years old. Married, no children. Office worker at an insurance company. Normal life by every external metric—until three weeks ago, when his appetite started changing. His wife had noticed the weight loss. His coworkers had noticed the mood swings. Someone had noticed enough to trigger hunter attention.
The Winchesters were investigating.
[WINCHESTER ETA: ESTIMATED 24-48 HOURS] [PROBABILITY OF SUBJECT TERMINATION: 94%]
Ninety-four percent. The System's cold calculation of Jack Montgomery's likely fate.
I knew how this story ended. In the show I'd watched in another life, Jack Montgomery had fought the transformation, tried to maintain control, ultimately failed when hunters pushed him too hard too fast. He'd killed. And then he'd died.
Unless someone intervened.
Jenny found me studying the Nebraska maps an hour later. The bond had carried my intensity—she'd known something was developing before I sent for her.
"What is it?"
"Rugaru in Nebraska. The Winchesters are investigating." I spread the intel across the table. "If I move fast, I can reach him first."
Her expression shifted from curiosity to alarm. "You want to race the Winchesters? The ones you told everyone to absolutely never approach under any circumstances?"
"I won't approach them. I'll get there before they do."
"And if you don't? If they arrive while you're making contact?"
"Then I withdraw. The monitoring protocols exist for a reason." I pulled up the timeline estimates. "They're driving from Kansas. Stopping to interview witnesses, establish background, confirm their target. That process takes time. I can be in Lincoln in twelve hours if I leave now."
"This is insane." Jenny's voice carried genuine frustration. "You've spent months building a coalition, establishing stability, avoiding exactly this kind of risk. And now you want to throw it all away for one Rugaru?"
"Not one Rugaru. A precedent."
She waited for me to explain.
"Thomas was a test case. A newly turned Rugaru who we found by accident, saved because we happened to be in the right place at the right time. Jack Montgomery is different. He's being actively hunted by the most dangerous creatures in the supernatural world. If I can extract him—if I can prove that coalition resources can save monsters even from Winchester-level threats—that changes what we represent."
"Or it gets you killed and leaves the coalition without leadership."
"Then you take over. You and Edgar and Catherine, together." I met her eyes. "The coalition survives me. That's been the plan from the beginning."
Thomas appeared in the doorway. He'd been listening—Rugaru hearing was sharper than most species realized.
"Another Rugaru?" His voice carried hope and something else. Kinship, maybe. "Someone like me?"
"Someone exactly like you. Three months ago, if the timing had been different, if I hadn't found you first..."
"The hunters would have killed me." Thomas stepped into the room. "Let me come. He'll listen to me. I can show him what's possible."
Jenny's objections continued for another twenty minutes. I listened to all of them—each valid, each reasonable, each calculating risk in ways that a responsible leader should consider.
Then I made the decision anyway.
"I'm leaving in an hour. Thomas comes with me. Jenny, you're in charge while I'm gone." I started gathering supplies. "If I'm not back in seventy-two hours, assume the worst and proceed accordingly."
"Silas—"
"The coalition can survive without me. It can't survive being too afraid to take risks." I holstered the silver knife—probably useless against Winchesters, but comforting regardless. "This is what we built for. Saving our kind from forces they can't fight alone."
The drive to Nebraska took eleven hours.
Thomas and I traded driving shifts—him taking the first six hours while I reviewed intel and contingency plans, me taking over around midnight while he slept. The highway unrolled endlessly through darkness, mile markers flashing past like countdown signals.
Somewhere around three in the morning, Thomas stirred in the passenger seat.
"Why do you do this?" he asked. Sleep-rough voice, the kind of question that only emerged in the vulnerable hours.
"Do what?"
"Save monsters. Build coalitions. Risk everything for creatures you barely know." He shifted to face me. "You could disappear. Use that glamour ability, become human as far as anyone knows, live a normal life somewhere far from all of this. Instead you're driving through the night to rescue a man you've never met from hunters who could kill you without breaking a sweat."
I considered lying. Giving him the leader's answer—the speech about solidarity and survival and the importance of standing together against common threats.
"Because someone should," I said instead. "And because I need them."
Thomas absorbed that. "Both things can be true?"
"Both things have to be true. Pure altruism doesn't survive contact with reality. Pure self-interest doesn't inspire loyalty." I checked the rearview mirror—empty highway, no pursuit. "I save monsters because it's right and because it builds my power. If either motivation disappeared, I'd probably keep going anyway. But having both makes it sustainable."
"That's... honest."
"You asked an honest question."
He was quiet for a while. The highway continued its endless scroll. Miles to go before dawn.
"I'm glad you found me," Thomas said finally. "Whatever your reasons."
"So am I."
Lincoln's city lights appeared on the horizon as the sun rose behind us.
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