Bonded by Nicky Charles
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,
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.
“Damn, you’re smooth,” Al complimented her.
She shrugged and massaged her throbbing temples. “It’s what I’m paid to do.”
“Yeah, but the way you schmooze with those guys makes a listener think you’re in cahoots with them.”
“You do your part.”
“I just do the background work. You’re the one they listen to.”
“All part of the show, Al. You know that. If I were belligerent and demanding, they wouldn’t agree to the planned cover story. I’d end up spending several weeks in the area trying to act as if I actually like them. This way, I go in, do my thing, and in a few days it’s all over and done with. Then I can go back to Headquarters and try to forget that packs like Bronte’s exist.” Brandi wiggled her jaw back and forth, trying to loosen the tight muscles. The sympathetic smile she’d kept pasted on her lips for the past few hours had made her face ache.
“Until the next time.” Al added.
“There won’t be a next time. I told you, I’m moving to another division.”
“That’s what you keep saying, yet every time there’s an opening you seem to find a reason not to go. I’ve bought more farewell gifts for you than I have for all my girlfriends combined.”
Brandi rolled her eyes at his comment, but continued to try to explain her position. “I don’t find reasons. They find me. There’s always another last minute case and administration says I’m the only one who can effectively handle the situation. By time the situation is under control, the new position I wanted is filled.”
“That’s your story, but if you really wanted to go—”
Brandi stood up straight and took off her jacket and tossed it in the back seat. “Al, get in the car before I leave you here in this godforsaken place.”
“It’s not godforsaken. Kinda pretty, actually.” Al looked around and Brandi had to admit that the sun filtering through the Spanish moss and then reflecting on the water was picturesque.
“True. But there are also mosquitoes and I don’t want to be on the dinner menu.” She swatted at one of the annoying insects that was buzzing about her head. “Now get in the car.”
Al complied and promptly settled back in his seat to nap. Brandi knew he wasn’t about to drop the subject of herself and Reno, but at least she’d have an hour or two reprieve before he started in on her again. The man had it in his mind that she purposely found reasons not to leave. It was all based on a drunken confession after a particularly stressful case. He knew she had a history, however brief, with Reno and seemed to believe that’s what kept her from leaving.
Well it wasn’t true, as he’d soon find out. She was leaving this time for good. This job was getting too stressful and she wanted into the less intense Casual Incidents crew. The situations were less critical and the clients were simply Lycans who had made a mistake. A few months there and she’d be up for her own territory.
Rumour had it that two senior DC officers were planning on retiring soon. With her own territory, she’d be working out of a satellite office away from Lycan Link and away from Reno Smith.
This isn’t a good idea, her wolf murmured. We need to stay near him. He is ours.
He doesn’t know that, she countered. And there’s my career to think about. Besides, Reno’s annoying.
Strong.
“And pig-headed—”
He’d be a good provider.
“And a rule breaker—”
He haunts our dreams. We can sense him. The connection has been started, if you’d just—
“No!”
“Brandi, what are you muttering about under your breath?” Al poked her in the side with his elbow.
Brandi glanced sideways and saw him frowning at her. Darn, she’d thought the man was asleep.
“Just arguing with my wolf. It wants to go for a run tonight.” The lie slipped easily from her lips and she grimaced. Professional hazard.
“In that case, I agree with you. Going for a night run isn’t a good idea in the bayou. I was listening to some of the locals talk and they have snakes and ’gators this big.” He stretched his arms out to show her and Brandi swatted at him.
“Get your arm down. You’re blocking my view of the road.”
“Sorry.” He rummaged around in a tote at his feet and pulled out a bag of liquorice. “Want some?”
“No. God, how can you eat so much junk and still stay so slim?”
“Good genetics.” He grinned around the liquorice whip he had partially shoved in his mouth. “If your wolf insists on running tonight make sure you take someone with you. I’m sure Reno would go along if you asked.”
“As if I’d ever ask a favour of him.”
“Who knows? I think he’s interested. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to sweeten up a bit—”
“I’ve already been ‘sweet’ to Reno. Twice. It didn’t work out.”
Al chewed on his liquorice and Brandi knew he was just gathering his thoughts for his next ‘you and Reno belong together’ lecture.
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. It was going to be a long drive.
Surprisingly, Al didn’t rag on her about Reno and they made it to the first stop still on speaking terms. The refugee bus was pulled off to the side of the motel—one owned by a Lycan couple—and the halves were safely ensconced in the rooms she’d pre-booked.
“I’ll go register us,” she told Al. “You check if anyone needs anything.”
Al nodded and strolled off to carry out his job. Brandi stood beside her car stretching and watching her partner. He really was a nice guy. Friendly, eager to assist, always ready to listen and supportive of her ideas. She sighed wishing she could find a spark of interest between the two of them, but there was nothing. It was a shame, too, since Al was good looking. Sandy blond hair, soft brown eyes, and an easy, friendly smile ensured he got a second glance. All the females at Lycan Link felt he was quite a catch and she agreed with them whole-heartedly; he just wasn’t the catch she wanted.
Shrugging, she turned away and headed to the front office to collect the room keys. Farida and Badru—the couple that owned the motel—had helped her out several times before with various cases and she knew they would have made sure the rooms contained some ‘
Sometimes Brandi feared that her job left her with a skewed view of her people. Always seeing the bad could make her forget that most Lycans were exemplary citizens with a high degree of concern for their packmates and the world around them. Most just wanted to live normal lives and blend in with the human population.
See, she told herself as she pulled open the door to the office, yet another reason to leave Critical Incidents. She was getting way too cynical constantly dealing with the scum of the earth.
“Brandi!” Farida slipped around the check-in counter and enveloped her in a welcoming hug. “So good to see you. And Al? Is he here too?” The dark-skinned woman peered towards the door looking for her partner. Farida had it in her head that Brandi and Al would make a perfect couple and didn’t miss an opportunity to point out the fact despite both of their protests.
“He’s checking on the others.” Brandi barely stifled a yawn and then smiled apologetically. “Sorry, long day.”
“Then I won’t keep you. We can talk in the morning. I’ve convinced Badru to make a large buffet for everyone tomorrow.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Brandi protested.
“It’s our wish. A celebration for the Lycans who are starting a journey to freedom. Besides, it’s good for him to keep in practise. One day he wants to build a large restaurant on the other side of the parking lot.” Badru was a trained chef, though for the time being he was confined to making small meals for travellers staying at the motel.
Brandi glanced through the window to the piece of land Farida was speaking of. Presently it served as a small playground with several trees, a swing set, sandbox, and teeter-totters.