For the Good of All

  “Why not just fly up on your broom?”

  She stopped and scowled at him over her shoulder. “If you don’t want me making comments about you baying at the moon, wolf man, you should stop right there.”

  Wolf man? His wolf’s eyes widened in shock.

  He barely held back his snort. “Touchy?”

  “No. Just tired of the stereotypes. You know, witches, brooms, crooked noses and warts.”

  “Your nose is definitely not crooked and there’s no sign of warts from what I can see.”

  “Thanks.” She made a face and finished the climb to her apartment door. As soon as she opened it, an orange cat appeared and slunk out. “Marmalade, get back here!”

  Stone turned to watch the cat as it nimbly descended to the street. “Your cat doesn’t seem to be listening.”

  “He’s not my cat.”

  “He was inside your apartment.”

  “I know. I’m just helping him out for a while.”

  “Helping him out?”

  “I like to help. He’s between homes so I let him crash here when he needs to.”

  “Between homes?”

  “He sort of comes and goes. Here for a week, gone for a month. I keep hoping he’ll stay long enough that I can get him to a vet and have him neutered.”

  His wolf whimpered and eyed the witch warily.

  “No wonder he keeps leaving,” Stone murmured, following her inside.

  “Cats don’t care if they have their nuts or not. And a neutered cat is easier to find a home for.”

  “Ah.” He looked around the room he found himself in.

  Stone had never given much thought as to what a witch’s apartment might look like. If he’d been expecting a cauldron or a crystal ball, he’d be sorely disappointed. Tina’s apartment looked decidedly normal. Sofa, chair, television. He ticked off the contents finding nothing unusual.

  “Not even a book of spells sitting out on the coffee table?” He finished surveying the room. “I’m completely disillusioned.”

  “They’re all in the back room that I use as an office. Well, except for the one in my room. I’m supposed to be reading it but the plot sucks.”

  He nodded and then shifted his focus to Tina. She’d kicked off her shoes—purple heels—and dropped her nametag in a small dish near the entrance.

  “Do you want something to drink? More water? A soda? Something stronger?”

  He could scent her nervousness. Curious. At the club she’d seemed confident but now... “You don’t do this often, do you?”

  “This?”

  “Take a strange man home.”

  “You’re not that strange.” A nervous laugh accompanied the quip.

  “Christina.” He deepened his voice, a warning growl skimming the word.

  “Er...” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

  “I’d better go.” He turned to leave and she caught him by the arm.

  “No. Don’t leave. I...er...I don’t bring men home but I’m not a virgin. It’s just that usually I’ve known them for a while before we progress to...this.”

  “And what makes me the exception?” He cocked his head to the side.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’m bored with how my life has been going.”

  “A boredom remedy? Is that praise or an insult?”

  “Praise. Definitely praise.” She took his hand and tugged gently. “Let’s sit and talk for a bit first.”

  He allowed himself to be led to the sofa.

  Talk.

  Definitely not how his nights usually went. He sat down, the cushions sagging under his weight. Tina sat beside him and laced her fingers together on her lap looking for all the world like a prim and proper school marm who’d been doused with pots of paint.

  “So, what do you do? I mean, what’s your line of work? Something in the military? Part of Lycan link?”

  “Something like that.”

  When he didn’t expand on his answer, she tried again. “Well, what about in your spare time? Do you watch movies or read or...”

  He sighed. He didn’t do small talk. Snaking out his hand, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a hot kiss. No gentle nibbles, no tentative pecks. If she wanted him, this is what he was.

  She stiffened for a split second and then sank into his embrace, kissing him back, trailing her fingers over his chest to his shoulders. The kiss was hot, wet, hungry. It had been ages since he’d had sex but he hadn’t felt the need until now.

  With his libido finally set free, desire raced through him hotter than the desert sun. He pulled Tina onto his lap so she straddled him. She felt fragile beneath his palms though in reality he supposed she might be considered slightly heavier than average.

  He cupped her hips, then slid his hands up her back, easing the material of her shirt out of the way until he found bare skin. Soft, supple. He growled in approval and moved to nuzzle her neck, inhaling her scent.

  “You’re not going to go all wolfy and bite me, are you?” She pulled away, her face flushed, her breathing heavy.

  “No. At least not in that way.” He affected a leer.

  “Good.”

  “Ever been with a Lycan?”

  She shook her head. “Ever been with a witch?”

  “Nope.” He pressed on her back, bringing her closer so he could lick the soft hollow at the base of her neck.

  “A night of firsts, it seems.”

  Something in her tone made him pause.

  Make sure she doesn’t expect too much, his wolf reminded him.

  He concurred. “You know this is just for tonight?”

  “It’s okay. I’m not looking for a long-term relationship.” She tugged at his t-shirt and he obliged by removing it. “Tonight is good. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”

  Chapter 2

  Reno took a swig of his beer as he flipped through the report he’d been given a week ago by Captain Fielding. It outlined the most recent unrest in Central America caused by warring drug cartels, one led by Ramiro “The King” Reyes and the other by Emilio Mendoza, a man noted for his deep-seated superstitions. The two had been vying for control of transport routes for years but tensions had escalated to new heights ever since the removal of several major cartels in other countries. A vacuum in the balance of power had been created and, according to the newscasts, each man was eager to fill it.

  “Interesting but not really a Lycan issue, is it?” His first reaction upon reading the report had been lack lustre to say the least. He’d handed the papers back to the man across the desk from him.

  “I wouldn’t be wasting your time if it didn’t involve us.” Captain Fielding had promptly slid the papers back to him.

  “What’s the angle?” He’d leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.

  “Michael Duffy—that’s second on High Council Duffy—has a son over there. Paul and his family are in Cantala acting as unofficial diplomats and now they’re caught in the middle of it. The last report we had from him indicated that the fighting had intensified. There’s been no news from him or any member of his family since.”

  “His family is there, you say?”

  The captain had nodded. “His mate and two pups are with him. When the project began the risk was seen as negligible compared to the benefits. With the near extinction of the Mexican Lycans and their counterpart, the Mexican Grey wolf, it was deemed important to have some presence in that part of the world. Cantala was chosen since it had been the most stable country in the area, or at least it had been until this recent turn of events.

  “So we’re presuming they’ve been captured rather than killed?”

  Fielding had shrugged. “I have men working on confirming that. Duffy insists his son and family are still alive and we need to get them out.”

  “The local shifters—”

  “Are jaguars. Standoffish bunch. Even for cats they’re damned difficult to deal with.” Fielding had frowned as
if recalling an unpleasant memory. “Our relationship with them is tentative at best. They weren’t that open to having a diplomat in the area to begin with. I doubt we can count on them for help.”

  “So with no help coming from that quarter, Lycan Link wants us to go in and get our people out.”

  “Yes and no. This is all off the record. The idea of diplomats in the area was never officially approved.”

  “In other words, Duffy and a few of his cronies came up with the idea and implemented it before all the ramifications had been worked out.”

  Fielding pursed his lips. “It’s not my job to question High Council.”

  The captain had nicely tap danced around answering but he’d let it pass. “So you want me to infiltrate the area?” His interest had been piqued at the idea of going on a mission but duty to his mate and his pack had him frowning.

  “Not you. You’re an Alpha now and not considered expendable.”

  Dismissed even before he’d had the chance to decline. It hadn’t set well despite the truth behind the statement. “Then what do you want me to do?”

  “Find someone who can do the job. Get in, free Duffy and his family, and get them out fast without drawing undo attention.”

  “I’ll go through the files of all the Enforcers and see—”

  “No. We can’t spare the manpower. And need I remind you this is unofficial?”

  “Then...?”

  The captain had smiled and stood up. “That’s for you to figure out. You need to earn this office and the consultant’s fee we pay you.”

  Reno snorted at the memory. His ‘office’ at Lycan Link was little more than a broom closet and the consultant’s fee was only regular Enforcer wages. If it wasn’t that he still enjoyed the work, he’d have given it up and spent his days in Kolding’s Pass with his mate, Brandi.

  Instead, he was here in Chicago preparing to convince his old friend, Damien, to get back in the proverbial saddle. The job he was about to propose was right up Damien’s alley. The man had worked as something of a mercenary before and those were exactly the kind of skills that would be needed to free the diplomat and his family.

  He folded the report in half and tucked it back into his pocket as he recalled the days when he and Damien would have taken on the world together. The best damned Enforcer team Lycan Link had ever seen; how many times had he heard that whispered in the halls?

  A grimace passed over his face. Here he was reminiscing like some old geezer in a rocking chair. Just because he wasn’t on the front line, didn’t mean he was any less effective. He’d moved on as had Damien.

  And, speak of the devil... Reno checked his watch as Damien slid into the booth. Exactly on time. The man had mastered the art of being perfectly synced with the clock. Quite the change from the punk kid he used to be. When they’d first worked together, Damien had often been purposely late just to see the reaction it would invoke. Damn, they’d had some good fights on the road to building mutual respect and eventually a close friendship.

  “Hey, old man, good to see you.” Damien gave a cocky grin but followed his irreverent greeting with a warm handshake.

  “Good to see you, too.” Reno smiled at his friend, pleased to find him looking happy and relaxed. Damien’s life hadn’t been an easy one. It was about time the kid got a break.

  A waitress appeared to take their order and Reno blinked at the woman’s appearance. Every colour under the sun seemed to have made its way onto her garb. Damien, however, didn’t seem to notice. “Two beers, thanks, Tina.”

  “Sure thing.” The woman—Tina—looked around. “Sam not with you?”

  “Nope. She’s on patrol but said she might stop by later if she finished early.”

  Tina widened her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Wow! I thought you two were permanently fastened at the hip or something. First time I’ve seen you apart from each other in months.” She folded her arms and shook her head. “You know this ruins the Christmas present I was going to give you. It was a sweater big enough for both of you to wear at the same time.”

  Damien scowled. “We aren’t that bad.”

  “If you say so.” Tina gave him a wink and wandered off.

  “A friend of Sam’s?” Reno asked. “I seem to remember a neon witch from the challenge.”

  “Yeah, that was Tina. She’s kind of hard to forget.” Damien half turned to watch the woman as she walked away.

  “What’s with all the colours?”

  “She says she’s studying to do theatrical make-up but I don’t know.” He turned back to face Reno. “Sam says it’s the third or fourth time Tina’s switched her major.”

  Reno grunted and dismissed the obviously flighty witch. “You and Sam, you’re good?”

  A smile appeared on Damien’s face and he nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  Reno studied his friend carefully and was pleased with what he saw. There was no haunted expression lurking in his eyes, no restlessness. His rogue side appeared well under control. “Glad to hear it.”

  “And you and Brandi?”

  “Never better.”

  Damien cocked his head to the side. “So, what’s the real reason you asked me to meet you here instead of stopping by the house? Somehow I don’t see you wanting to get onto the dance floor to bump and grind with a bunch of strangers.”

  Reno snorted. “Not likely.” He paused and waited until Tina set their beers down and left. After taking a swig, he continued. “I’ll get right to the point. Are you interested in some work? The unofficial, covert kind.”

  “What’s up?” Damien leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. A look of mild interest crossed his face.

  “A Lycan diplomat and his family have disappeared in Central America.”

  “Central America?” Damien frowned.

  “The Cantala drug wars.”

  Damien slowly nodded. “I saw the human side of that reported on the news. Lots of civilians caught in the crossfire as drug cartels battle for control of the area. It’s one of the routes used to transport drugs from South America to the States.”

  “Yeah. The whole place is a time bomb. Poverty, drugs, corrupt government officials. We need someone to get this man and his family out before the area completely destabilizes.”

  “I wish I could help you but I can’t.” Damien sat back in his seat and looked away, a muscle working in his jaw.

  Reno blinked, not having expected to be turned down quite so quickly. “Is it because you and Sam are newly mated or...?”

  “That’s part of it.” Damien sighed and shifted his gaze back to Reno. “Sam and the pack depend on me. There aren’t many of us and we need every able-bodied Lycan we can get.”

  Reno nodded. The Chicago pack had fertility problems and their numbers were low. He wondered if Sam and Damien would have the same difficulties conceiving that the rest of the pack did. Asking would be tacky though, even by his standards. “Understood.”

  “There’s another reason.” Damien exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable.

  Sensing his old partner needed time, Reno merely cocked a brow and waited. Eventually, Damien spoke.

  “You know I was found in an orphanage.”

  “It’s part of your official record at Lycan Link.”

  “Supposedly my background is a mystery. No idea where I came from or who my parents were. But sometimes…” He shook his head, his brows drawn together. “I have these weird dreams, only they’re not dreams. They’re memories from when I was a child, probably only a few years old.”

  “Memories from that long ago are probably pretty distorted by now.” Reno pointed out.

  “Yeah.” Damien appeared to consider the point, his eyes intent on the glass he idly twirled in his hands. “That’s what I’ve told myself, but the dreams are always the same. Someone is carrying me, telling me to be quiet. Saying it’s the only way to keep me safe.”

  “One of your parents perhaps?”

  Damien s
hook his head. “No. It’s a stranger’s voice. A man. I can smell his fear, sense the danger. We’re travelling through a jungle, splashing through water. It seems like forever.” He looked up, his eyes meeting Reno’s. “He leaves me at the orphanage, says he’s going back to try to save the others. His final words were not to follow him. To never go back.”

  “Back where?”

  “I don’t know. Something inside me has always had me steering clear of anything south of the border.”

  Reno gave him an assessing look. “Your hair is dark but I don’t see you being from that part of the world.”

  “That’s what I tell myself.” He scrubbed his face with his hands and then raked his fingers through his hair. “Not much in life bothers me, Reno, but the idea of stepping foot in Central America scares me spitless. It’s stupid to let a dream control you but there you have it.”

  “Hey, we all have things that scare us. Me, it’s dark spaces.”

  Damien quirked a brow at him.

  “Not something I ever advertise.” Reno shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Can you imagine the fun the ACS squad would have had if they’d known? Every meeting some idiot would have doused the lights on me.”

  Damien gave a huff of laughter. “And afterwards you would have wiped the floor with whoever did it.”

  “Damn right.”

  They both took a long drink of their beers, silently agreeing to end the gut spilling.

  Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Damien leaned back in his seat. “Even if I was able and willing to go, I wouldn’t be much help to you. I’d never make it across the border.”

  “Why is that?” Reno downed the last of his drink.

  “Fielding might have finagled me a pardon but I’m pretty sure my name is still red flagged in the data base. If I leave the country, someone is bound to ask questions.”

  “I didn’t think of that angle.”

  “See? You’re getting old, man. The mind is the first thing to go.” Damien smirked and Reno couldn’t help but chuckle as they fell back into their usual relationship.

  Picking up his drink, he leaned back in his chair. “Well, if you’re so young and sharp, give me some suggestions for getting our people out of this.”