Bonded (17 page)

“Sure. I’ll see
you tonight at the first stop.” Al loped across the parking lot to
catch up with his partner and Reno climbed into the bus to confer
with the driver. It would be a three day trip back to the Lycan
Link compound. While flying was faster, coordinating a large group
through all the security checks on such short notice was too
complicated. Keeping a low profile was more important than speed.
He’d accompany the bus for the first leg of the journey until they
were well out of Bronte’s territory and after that a lower ranking
Enforcer would take his place.

Once free of this
duty, he’d return to Headquarters to ensure everything was in place
for when the group finally arrived, and then he’d begin the
paperwork that such a rescue mission always involved. He hated
paperwork, but knew it had to be done. At least there was less than
there had been a few years back when the Purists movement had first
re-emerged. Maybe he could try and pawn it off on Damien. Naw, the
kid hated paperwork as much as he did. And if it wasn’t done
properly and on time, the captain would be breathing down his
neck.

After talking to
the driver, Reno eased himself into a seat and leaned his head back
while he waited for the halves to arrive. Maybe he could catch some
shut-eye before they boarded the bus. He yawned and scratched his
chest, then closed his eyes only to have images of Brandi Johansson
pop into his head.

Damn, that woman
was annoying. Every time he tried to be friendly, she got pissed
off about something. The only time they really got along was when
they were having sex. Mind you it was great sex, but he knew there
was more to life than getting off.

Not for the first
time, he tried to analyze where they kept going wrong. The day
after their first time together they’d met for coffee. He recalled
waiting for her at a small cafe, watching the sky darken with the
promise of rain and wondering why he’d given her his number. It had
been a bad idea, he shouldn’t have encouraged her, and yet a small
bubble of hope had been growing inside him.

The previous night
at the bar, she hadn’t turned away in shock when he said he had
rogue potential and apparently she hadn’t been with him just for
the thrill either or she wouldn’t have called him and agreed to
meet again.

He’d had that
happen before; thrill seekers, danger junkies, females who flocked
around Enforcers just because of the edge of risk involved. Some
even tried to provoke him, wanting to see what he’d do; however,
once the roll in the hay was over, they couldn’t even give him the
time of day. He’d learned early on not to expect too much. A round
or two of sex and then it was time to move on.

Brandi had seemed
different though, and so he’d allowed himself to hope. When she’d
walked into the coffee shop, the day that had been turning grey
suddenly seemed to brighten. He’d thought about how she’d put a
pretty spin on being an Enforcer and how responsive she’d been in
bed, the way she’d danced with sensual abandon, how her body had
felt against his.

His wolf had
wanted to mark her the previous night; in fact it had been a very
close call. Why the creature would want to blood bond with a
werewolf he’d just met had been beyond him. Perhaps the beast had
experienced the glimmer of hope as well. Or maybe it had been the
beer he’d been drinking or the fact that he’d been up late the
night before reading cadet files, looking for potential Enforcer
candidates. Whatever the case, it had happened and he’d had a long
talk with the beast on the way home to ensure the situation didn’t
arise again.

He smiled thinking
of how Brandi had greeted him that day, so excited to share her
news with him. It had come as a bit of a shock to learn she’d be
working at Lycan Link. He’d been happy for her, even pleased they
might see each other in the future, but it worried him as well. She
might think they could have a real relationship and that would
never do. Despite his hopes, in his heart he knew it wouldn’t work.
Enforcers didn’t take on mates.

Well, he hadn’t
had to worry for too long. She’d announced she was going to be a DC
officer and he’d opened his mouth and then...well...things had gone
to hell in a hand basket. Maybe he could have been a bit more
tactful, but in his experience Damage Control was a pain in the
rear, always complaining he wasn’t careful enough, going out of
their way to work with the perps, and he’d said as much.

Their date had
ended in a shouting match. His own disappointment in how things
were going had made him especially crude and in a way he’d been
surprised she hadn’t slapped him.

He’d stood there
watching her leave, inordinately angry with both himself for
messing things up and with her for storming off. The bud of hope
inside him had been as fake as snake oil and he’d been a sucker for
having entertained thoughts to the contrary. Throwing some bills
down on the table, he’d headed into the woods to take a long run,
trying to erase her from his memory.

That had set the
precedent for most of their encounters over the past three years.
Brandi was self-righteous and snipped at him every chance she got
while he gave as good as he received. They were like oil and water
yet something kept drawing him back to her.

Reno rubbed his
face. The answer to the puzzle that was their relationship was no
clearer now than it had been before his trip down memory lane. Best
to put it out of his mind again and try to get some much needed
sleep. He had guard duty tonight and needed to be alert in case
Bronte decided to have them followed. It hadn’t happened...yet, but
he’d learned to put nothing past a Purist Alpha. Damned
bastards.

Chapter
10

Inside the Meeting
House, Brandi gritted her teeth and maintained a pleasant smile as
she sat listening to Joseph Bronte talk to his pack about the
injustice they’d experienced at the hands of Lycan Link’s
Enforcers. It was all propaganda. Well...most of it was. Bronte had
a certain ruffled look about him that seemed to follow most of the
Alphas who Reno dealt with.

She didn’t doubt
Reno had exerted a certain degree of pressure on the man to make
him sign the relocation papers for the halves. If she had her way,
Reno could have broken both the man’s arms, however that wasn’t her
call. Expressing her true feelings was not part of the job
description. Soothing Alphas, calming down situations, helping
packs blend into the background so the human population over-looked
them, that was her assignment.

The faintest of
sighs threatened to escape her lips and she bit it back unwilling
to start bemoaning her fate. This was her chosen career and she was
damned good at it. She could analyze situations and find minor
points that might tip off the humans. She could create scenarios to
explain away almost any occurrence and she had a friendly
persuasive way about her that convinced even the most ornery of
Lycans to go along with her plans. Those were her God-given talents
and for the past three years she’d used them well. If sometimes it
irked her to be oh-so-politically correct, well that was just part
of the territory. Over the years she’d become an expert at
controlling her thoughts and expressions and could hold her tongue
no matter what the provocation. Today was no different than any
other.

“I saw you talking
to Reno in the parking lot.” Al whispered to her. She shot him a
look out of the corner of her eye.

“So?”

“So he seemed
concerned about you heading in here by yourself.”

Brandi shrugged
and whispered back. “Reno’s too full of himself. I can handle these
situations without his ‘manly’ help. Besides, you’re here.” She
gave Al’s knee a friendly pat. The poor man had his long legs
curled up as best as possible, but his rangy form would never fit
comfortably in a small chair.

“Uh-huh. I know
that. He does too, but he still worries about you.”

She held back a
snort. “He’s not worried. He’s looking for an opportunity to find
fault.”

“Maybe. Maybe
not.”

“Look, Al. Lay
off. You know how Reno and I are. We’re like oil and water.
Whenever he’s around I’m cranky and on edge. Smith brings out the
equivalent of PMS in me. He’s never forgotten that report I made on
the Langstaff case. The man goes out of his way to make my job
harder.”

“Langstaff is old
news and Reno doesn’t carry a grudge. Maybe at the time he did, but
once the emotional turmoil settled down, he recognized that you
were just doing your job.”

“My job.” She gave
her head a barely perceptible shake. “That’s the problem. He hates
DC officers.”

“Now
hate’s
a strong word, Brandi. Enforcers and DCs naturally clash, but we’re
all working towards the same goal. If you want to know what I
think, you and Reno—”

Having had enough
of Al and his theories in the past to know what was coming, she cut
him off. “Shh! I’m trying to listen to Alpha Bronte, now be
quiet.”

Al settled back in
his chair with a knowing smirk. Brandi pursed her lips and exhaled
slowly. When Al got an idea in his head, he wouldn’t let it be and
for some reason he felt she and Reno belonged together. The man was
an idiot.

Shifting in her
chair, she tried to push Al’s words from her mind and instead
thought about how warm the blazer was making her and how
constricting it felt. The pins that kept her long hair under
control dug into her scalp painfully, rivalled only by the way her
shoes pinched her toes. She hated being dressed up and much
preferred yoga pants, a tank top and bare feet. However, the job
called for professionalism, so here she was.

Digging her
fingernails into her palm, she waited for her turn to speak. When
she’d first become interested in being a DC officer, she’d
envisioned working with Lycans who had accidentally slipped up;
shifting forms not knowing humans were about, unthinkingly growling
in public. It had seemed a useful way to put her over-active
imagination to work. And the fact that she was ‘pulling one over’
on the human population seemed like harmless fun.

However, the
deeper she delved into the job, the more the seriousness of the
position became evident, as did the fact that her ‘clients’ weren’t
always the nicest of Lycans. She held back another sigh; it was a
dirty—

Al poked her and
she realized the Alpha was introducing her. Picking up her notes,
she moved to take the podium. A well practised spiel was already on
her lips. How many times had she done this? Too many, as far as she
was concerned. Each time she swore it would be the last, but
another situation would arise and she’d be called in to help.
Sometimes being good at your job was a curse.

“Hello, fellow
Lycans. Thank you for allowing me to speak with you about the
recent events that occurred within your pack. I know many of you
are shocked, angry, perhaps even saddened...”

Brandi gave her
speech, fielded questions, and outlined the story to be used should
any human question the sudden disappearance of a dozen people. Her
research on the pack—its history and idiosyncrasies—paid off and
she knew exactly what approach to take with them. By the time she
was done, the Bronte pack was calmer. Most were viewing her as a
helpful friend and even the few that still harboured ill-will could
at least see the logic behind her proposals.

After ensuring
they all knew how to contact her should they have further questions
or difficulties, she turned the meeting back to the Alpha, and then
she and Al slipped out of the meeting hall. A tired sigh escaped
her as they walked to the car and she began to pull the pins from
her hair. Leaning a hip against the fender, she took off her high
heels and wiggled her thankful toes, then rolled her shoulders to
ease the tension that had been slowly building there over the past
few days.

Ever since she’d
seen this case on her roster, the butterflies had started to move
about in her stomach. Dealing with normal DC cases was tiring, and
when Purist Alphas came into the mix, the job became both
physically and mentally draining. She had to be polite and
professional, keeping firm control on her real feelings lest they
be detected and deter the offending pack from falling in with her
plan, while still being on the alert for any deceptions they might
be trying to slip by her. Basically it came down to the fact that
she had to exude enough charismatic leadership that the pack was
swayed to her way of thinking despite the Purist indoctrination
they’d been subjected to.

It was exhausting
work, rather like putting on an extended one-man theatre
production, and she always needed to psych herself up for the task
days ahead of time. Knowing she’d be dealing with Reno one-on-one
just added to the burden and the closer the actual encounter came,
the more flip-flops her stomach did. The butterflies turned into
small sparrows and then grew to the size of crows before mutating
into turkey vultures. She’d barely been able to eat for the past
two days and her sleep had been punctuated by vividly erotic
dreams, which melted into nasty verbal clashes.

At least her
mental defences were well and truly in place. The wall between her
thoughts and Reno’s seldom breached anymore. Her thoughts and her
dreams were her own. Of course the energy it took to maintain such
control left her short in other areas. Heaven forbid she ever had
to shift forms quickly! Someone could mistake her for one of the
halves if they watched her pathetic attempts as of late.

God, she was a
mess, and as usual it was all Reno’s fault. But did he care? Of
course not! He flexed his muscles and used that drawl of his to set
her off balance and then smirked when she got flustered. The man
was probably laughing right now, hoping she’d screwed up. Well, she
hadn’t. Over the years, she’d learned more than a few tricks for
dealing with his effect on her.