Bonded (19 page)

The door to the
office swung open and a blonde bundle of energy known as Jenny
Norfolk breezed into the office and dropped a thick file in front
of him.

“Here you go,
Reno. Hot off the press and ready for you to read.”

He glanced up from
his computer screen and grunted his thanks while pushing the file
to the side, and returned his attention to the budget. Travel
expenses? How the hell was he supposed to remember all his travel
expenses? Groaning, he thought of all the crumpled pieces of paper
on his dresser at home. Dammit, he’d have to go through them all
and see which ones were from this case. Some of them were personal,
others were bills for meals and gasoline, and then there was the
shirt he’d ruined climbing over the...

“Uh...Reno?”

With a start, he
realized Jenny was still standing by his desk. He quirked an
eyebrow at her. “Was there something else?”

“Well...” She
paused and took a deep breath. He could see her fingers tighten on
the files she was still holding, and then she began to speak in a
rush. “A bunch of us are getting together at Clancy’s after work
and I...I mean...
we
were hoping you’d be able to come.”

Reno groaned
inwardly but gave a politically correct answer. “Thanks. If I get
my reports done in time, I’ll try to make it.”

“Great! I’ll see
you there!” A wide grin spread over Jenny’s face, causing Reno to
cringe as he watched her bounce out of the room.

He sighed as he
thought of how the evening would go if he dared set foot in
Clancy’s. Jenny would stick to him like a burr on his butt. Sure,
the girl was as cute as a bug’s ear, he just wasn’t interested and
she wasn’t getting the message. And now it seemed she’d
misinterpreted his tentative agreement and was expecting to see him
tonight.

Hell, why did they
always have to flock around him? Years ago he’d revelled in the
attention until he realized it was the danger he represented,
rather than himself, that drew them. And now, Damien said it
continued because they thought he was brooding and saw cheering him
up as a challenge. Brooding? Ha! He wasn’t brooding; he was just
cynical and had a lot of responsibilities. Besides, Enforcers
didn’t run around grinning like idiots. Well, Damien did, but that
wasn’t really a grin. It was more of a smirk while he tried to
decide who to pull one over on next or which female to go
after.

Sometimes he
wondered if Damien didn’t send some of the local ladies his way,
just to annoy him. The kid had a twisted sense of humour. But why
would he have picked Jenny? There was nothing wrong with the girl,
but Damien should know he wasn’t interested in the cute, perky
blonde type. He rubbed his chin and made a face. Come to think of
it, he wasn’t interested in any type lately...unless they had long
red hair. He scowled when he realized his thoughts had brought him
back to Brandi Johansson. Even when she wasn’t around, the woman
wouldn’t leave him alone!

The door opened.
Jenny had returned and he resisted the urge to bark at her to leave
him alone. “Sorry, Reno. I forgot to give you this letter. See you
tonight.” She set the envelope on his desk, waggled her fingers at
him, and left.

Reno eyed the
letter, a muscle working in his jaw. All thoughts of Jenny and her
silly finger waggling faded as he contemplated the plain white
envelope. He reached over and pressed save on the computer.
Gingerly, he picked the letter up by the edges and sniffed it to
see if the scents on it held any clues. No—there were too many and
they were too intermingled to be of any use. He turned the envelope
over in his hands, studying the label, the stamp... There was
nothing remarkable about it. Damn!

He knew what it
was. It was the fourth he’d received in as many weeks and of
course, there wouldn’t be any finger prints beyond those belonging
to Lycan Link staff. With a sigh, he opened it and scanned the
contents. Just as he suspected, it was more threatening mail from
the Purists. Well, technically it didn’t say it was from the
Purists but there was little doubt. It contained the same vitriol
as the last three unsigned letters...

Lycan Link was
misguided and corrupt and, by association, so was he. They were
violating the Book of the Law by taking halves from the packs that
‘owned’ them. The downfall of Lycan society was imminent if they
didn’t cease their actions and return to the true way of the
werewolf. Should he and his team persist, necessary measures would
be taken to stop them.

Reno set the
letter down and rubbed his neck in frustration. Despite his best
efforts and that of Lycan Link to promote tolerance and acceptance,
the Purist movement continued to exist. It was on the fringes, yet
still had enough momentum to be a continuous source of trouble,
especially with the smaller packs in more remote areas.

God, he was so
sick and tired of the Purists’ narrow-minded views. Eight years as
an Enforcer, four of which he’d spent working the ACS, and he still
couldn’t believe the injustices he encountered.

Reno pushed off
from his desk, his chair scraping across the floor, and strode over
to the window. He was one of the lucky ones with an above ground
office and an actual view, such as it was. His office looked out
onto the inner compound, which was basically several acres of grass
and small pathways with a screen of trees and a high fence blocking
most of the view of the outside world. Several small to medium
sized buildings dotted the area, some hiding the entrances to the
larger underground complex that actually made up Lycan Link.

Pulling the blind
aside he stared down to where last week’s group of refugees stood
huddled around several picnic tables. The youngsters would
recuperate the fastest; already some were playing a game of tag. It
was the adults, who’d been victimized by their neighbours, who
would take much longer to feel safe enough to trust another
pack.

Finding them a new
home would take time and considerable effort. Screening possible
packs, matching temperaments, researching employment opportunities
and available housing were but a few of the steps that needed to be
taken before permanent relocation would occur. And even after that,
support—both mental and financial—would be offered through Lycan
Link’s service groups. In some of the worst cases, the victims
never did completely recover.

A heavy weight
settled in Reno’s chest as he contemplated the fact that, for all
his efforts, he could never completely undo the damage the mixed
families and halves had endured.

It usually started
simply enough. A Lycan mated a human, which while not exactly
encouraged, was allowed. They started a family and all was well
until the Purists moved in, taking over the territory and turning
the pack against them with tales of pure-blood supremacy.
Eventually they ended up as little more than slaves with no rights
or freedoms, sometimes underfed and often mistreated.

Once the Purists
were in charge of a pack, the only hope half-breeds had was to try
and escape or smuggle a message out to Lycan Link. When a case was
discovered, his unit was quick to react, but how many undiscovered
cases still existed?

Reno shook his
head in disgust. What did it matter if a Lycan was pure-blooded or
half? Sure, some limitations afflicted halves; their control when
shifting often meant they couldn’t maintain clothing during a
transformation but it was more an inconvenience than anything else.
The quarter weres that existed might even need assistance to shift
at all, yet in these modern times it wasn’t that important.
Shifting was more for enjoyment, not a life and death
situation.

He let the blind
fall back into place. This last mission had taken its toll on him.
A month of diplomacy wasn’t his thing and yet he’d found himself
biting his tongue and trying to be polite to an ass of an Alpha in
order to secure the release of this last batch of mixed families
and halves. Going in with a squad of Enforcers and whipping the
Purists’ butts until they begged for mercy, was more his style, but
Lycan Link insisted that diplomacy be tried first.

As much as he
hated to admit it, the talks had gone well this time, though
whether it was because his negotiating skills were improving or the
Alpha had been weaker than most, he wasn’t sure. The halves and
their families were now free but whether or not the remaining pack
members would change their ways was yet to be seen.

It was almost
noon, so he decided to share the letter with the captain after
lunch. There was no point in giving himself indigestion sooner than
he had to. Maybe Damien would be back by then and they could bounce
some ideas off each other as to who might be responsible. The
leadership of the Purists was still a mystery and in between
half-breed cases, his team worked on determining who the
individuals might be.

Reno rubbed his
chin and wondered what might be holding Damien up. While the kid
liked to push the rules, he took his job seriously. Hopefully,
nothing had happened to him. Nah, if there was a problem, Damien
would call him. The two of them had forged a strong bond over the
years, closer than most Enforcers ever got to their partners. They
knew they could count on each other, no matter what.

After three years,
Reno felt he knew Damien Masterson inside and out. Fresh out of the
Academy, Damien had been cocky and unruly, ready to break any and
every rule just for the hell of it. Reno had taken to the kid on
sight, not that he let Damien know it. For the first few months,
he’d slapped him down so often, it was surprising the new recruit
hadn’t quit. Damien had taken it all on the chin, though, and had
kept coming back for more.

In the end, the
kid had learned to control his attitude and turned his sharp mind
to working within the rules—usually—rather than constantly trying
to break them. Now they made up one of the best teams Lycan Link
had ever produced.

Speak of the
devil... The door swung open and Damien walked in looking more
dishevelled than he should after a supposedly restful long
weekend.

“Hey, Reno!” He
flopped down in a chair and leaned his head back. “God, I’m
tired.”

“Had a good time,
I see.” Reno sat on the edge of his desk and observed his partner.
His black hair hung messily over his forehead, stubble graced his
chin and dark circles were evident under his eyes. Yep, he looked
like shit.

“I met a girl.
Beth.” Damien responded without opening his eyes but a smile played
over his lips.

“So what’s
new?”

“She’s really
something.”

“She must be if
spending three days with her makes you look like this.”

Damien opened one
eye briefly. “She’s very...unique.”

“Say no more. I
don’t need to hear the sordid details of your love life.” Reno held
up his hands to stop the flow of words. “Just tell me that you were
discreet and I don’t need to contact the DC office.”

“It wasn’t like
that. We spent most of the weekend talking...and a few other
things.” He laced his fingers behind his head, looking smug.

“Good. We don’t
need any more complications than we have right now.”

“Complications?”
Damien opened one eye again.

“We got another
letter this morning.”

“Shit.” Shaking
off the groggy look he’d been wearing, Damien sat up straight and
extended his hand. “Can I see it?” After scanning the contents, he
tossed it onto the desk. “Nothing new there, just the same old
ranting. Have you shown the captain yet?”

“Nope. Thought I’d
wait until after lunch.”

“Good idea. God, I
could use a cup of coffee.” Damien rubbed his eyes with the heels
of his hands then followed Reno to the cafeteria.

Chapter
12

Brandi looked
around her office one last time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten
anything. She’d spent three years working out of this room and it
was surprising how much she’d accumulated. This last week she’d
divided her time between finishing up loose ends, apprising
co-workers of ongoing cases, and purging her desk and files of
unnecessary items. When she started her new job, she didn’t want to
arrive with a lot of clutter.

“I can’t believe
you’re really leaving us.” Al Zimmerman stood in the doorway, his
arms folded across his chest. “You’re making me a very unhappy
man.”

“Al, we’ve been
through this before. You’ll get along fine with a new partner and
we’ll still see each other. I’m just three floors down, not halfway
across the continent. And it will be at least a few months before
I’m assigned my own territory and leave completely.”

“That’s not why
I’m unhappy. I lost a bet because of you.”

“What bet?” Brandi
frowned at her soon-to-be former partner.

“The one about
whether you’d really leave or not. You’ve always changed your mind
at the last minute. I said you’d do it again this time, too.”

“Sorry. How much
are you out?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Ouch.” She winced
then playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “Next time, don’t bet
against me. I told you I was done, that I was tired of dealing with
the crazies. I want a nice quiet job for a change. One that will
give me a chance at leading a normal life.”

“What’s so great
about a normal life? It’s way over-rated.”

She began to check
the desk drawers to ensure they were empty. “Well, I want to find
that out for myself. With any luck, I’ll be assigned to a small
territory with half a dozen nice, normal packs. I’ll spend my time
helping cover up simple wolf sightings on the edge of town
perpetrated by high spirited pups. I might even get to be part of a
real pack again.”

Al was quiet for a
minute, and when he spoke again it was in an uncharacteristically
serious voice. “You miss that don’t you? Being part of a real
pack.”