Bonded

  Growling in frustration, Bronte scrawled his name across the pages before throwing them back at Reno.

  “Thank you.” Reno calmly picked up the documents as if a violent fight had not just occurred, double checking Bronte had indeed signed in the correct places. Satisfied that all was in order, he closed the file and nodded. “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but we both know that would be a lie. If the gods are merciful, I’ll never have to see your sorry face again.”

  Bronte’s fists clenched, yet he said nothing, so Reno turned and left. As the door closed behind Damien and himself, he could hear the sound of furniture breaking. A wide grin slowly appeared on his face. Damn, he enjoyed pissing off bastards like Bronte.

  “That went well,” Damien said with a solemnity that belied the twinkle in his eye.

  “Yep. Nothing worth reporting happened, wouldn’t you say?” He slid his gaze sideways and looked at his partner. Like himself, Damien showed few signs of the fight that had just occurred. A small bruise on his cheekbone was already fading and a wound on his chin was healing nicely.

  “Uh-huh. The release of the refugees was negotiated without incident. It was a text book case of the benefits of diplomacy.” A faint smile played at the edges of Damien’s mouth.

  Reno bit his cheeks to hold in his own grin and nodded in agreement. “That’s what my report’s going to say.”

  The two men looked at each other and began to laugh. What Headquarters didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

  “It’ll take at least an hour before the refugees are ready to roll. Do you want to head into town? I met a couple of girls and—”

  Damien began to give his usual spiel but Reno cut him off.

  “A DC officer is going to be showing up. Someone has to be here.”

  “Aw, come on, Reno. You only live once.” Damien slapped him on the back, but Reno shook his head. He knew Damien was on a high from the fight. The kid still hadn’t learned to gear down and needed to burn off his excess energy. Sex was his usual choice.

  Sometimes Reno worried about his partner. Damien was a good Enforcer; smart, strong, quick on his feet, and for the most part he kept his inner wolf in line. But there were times, like today, when a certain look came over him, a restless, reckless attitude that made Reno wonder what the future might hold for the kid. Was it that rogue quality on the edge of breaking free or just the high spirits of youth? Reno didn’t know and kept his concerns to himself.

  There was no point in trying to stop Damien. He liked to live life on the wild side and didn’t want anyone telling him what to do. That was okay with Reno—he’d suffered from the same malaise before becoming head of the unit and being forced to be more responsible—he just hoped his partner wouldn’t end up in real trouble one day.

  “Go on and have fun. Just don’t do anything that requires a DC officer to cover it up.” The light warning was all Reno allowed himself to give.

  Mischief glinted in Damien’s eyes. “Reno, you worry too much. You’re like an old man sometimes.”

  “Wise, not old, kid. I’ve sown my wild oats and know the pitfalls.”

  “Wild oats?” Damien rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you did that?”

  Reno held back a frown. Damien had unwittingly hit on a sore spot, though he didn’t let on. “When you’re old, you’re discreet.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure you are.” Damien taunted him good naturedly and Reno took a half-hearted swipe at him, but the kid danced back out of the way. “Well, I’ll ‘sow enough oats’ for both of us and be back in an hour.”

  With a final warning, Reno started to walk away. “If you’re not, we’re leaving without you and you can walk back.”

  “That’s what you always say.” Damien called after him. “Have fun dealing with the DC officer.”

  Reno flipped him off then listened to Damien laughing as he loped in the direction of town.

  Damned kid’s going to make me really mad some day, Reno mused. Maybe it was time to take a round out of him again. His frown soon morphed into a smile though. Damien was like a younger brother and a friend all rolled into one and their good natured teasing was just part of their relationship.

  Whistling under his breath, he made his way across the parking lot to where the transport bus was awaiting the refugees. They’d be taken to the Lycan Link compound on the border of Canada and the US to be processed, given medical attention and counselling as needed and then integrated into a new pack and a life of freedom.

  Yep, it had been a good couple of weeks’ work. He ran his hands through his short unruly hair and flexed his shoulders. Damn, it felt good to get in the occasional fight; it helped work all the kinks out of a fellow and kept the inner wolf more manageable. The scuffle had left him hot and sweaty though so he pulled off his shirt and wiped his face and neck on the garment before throwing it over his shoulder.

  Despite the early morning hour, the air was heavy with humidity. Reno wiped another trickle of sweat from his face wondering what the temperature might be and then decided he didn’t want to know. Thinking a cold drink would be a welcome sight, he wondered if the town sported a bar or not. Damien would know, but Reno had been too busy on the case to pay much attention to the local amenities. Besides, this was such a two-bit place that it didn’t even rate a pinpoint on local road maps. The chances of finding a good brand of beer didn’t seem very likely.

  He looked around at the moss laden trees and lush foliage so typical of the bayous while swatting at a mosquito that dared to land on his arm. It was interesting territory, not something he was familiar with, and if he’d had more time, exploring might have been interesting, even if there was no bar in sight.

  A waterway, so still it appeared as smooth as glass, was to his right and a small dock extended out into it with a rowboat tied to a post. Perfect for sitting back and fishing, he decided. Add a cold frosty beer, a hat to keep the sun off and maybe some music playing softly in the background and it might just be a perfect vacation spot, if he ever decided to take one, that is.

  Yeah, that’d be the life. He inhaled deeply imagining himself in the scene, then frowned when a female suddenly appeared in the picture. She had long bouncy curls, was dabbling her toes in the water and laughing, likely scaring all the fish away! Foolish female, didn’t she know there could be ’gators in the water?

  Scowling, he gave his head a shake and abandoned his daydreams. Someday he’d plan a vacation, just not now. He had a schedule to keep and fishing wasn’t even close to being on the agenda. Shifting his attention back to the parking lot, he headed towards the bus that would carry the refugees to Lycan Link.

  The sun was just starting to move higher in the sky and he squinted at the brightness of its reflection off the large vehicle’s windows. He donned his sunglasses and immediately his step faltered. Now that he could see clearly, he became aware that his nemesis was parked beside the bus.

  Damnation.

  Well, that explained the vague sense of irritation that had plagued him all day and the woman who had messed up his imaginary fishing!

  Whenever he found himself in a bad mood, Brandi Johansson was always somewhere nearby. How the hell did one woman have the power to irritate him so much? And with all the Damage Control agents employed by Lycan Link, why did the captain keep sending this one?

  He narrowed his eyes and jutted his chin as he stared at the woman before him. Involuntarily, his hands fisted, every muscle in his body tightening at the very sight of her. Desire and irritation battled within him, but he could allow neither one to win. One slip up, one unprofessional comment and the annoying woman would have his butt in a sling… again.

  Brandi Johansson was perched on the hood of a midnight blue sports car, her face tilted up to the sun, and her curvaceous body displayed in all its provocative glory. Lush breasts, rounded hips, fire-red hair trailing down her back. Her skirt was hitched up revealing shapely legs that ended in bare feet.

  Reno felt his mouth grow dry. He reca
lled, all too well, how those thighs felt cradling his hips. His body responded to the memory, but he forced himself to ignore it. Their relationship had soured considerably since their last encounter and he knew from personal experience that while she might look like the answer to every man’s dreams, reality was completely different.

  Brandi wasn’t as sweet as her name might imply. Instead she was as fiery as her hair and about as easy to take as gargling broken glass. Real brandy might have slid down his throat and filled his belly with comforting warmth, but Brandi Johansson set him afire like no other female ever had. She was hot tempered and feisty. Her acerbic comments set his teeth on edge and made his temper boil. As far as he could tell her only saving grace was the fact that she gave him a hard-on, not that he’d give her the satisfaction of knowing that, of course.

  As one of the top agents with the Damage Control branch of Lycan Link, Brandi was often called upon to manage tricky situations such as this one. Unfortunately, while she might be good at her job, she was also the bane of his existence. If she wasn’t breathing down his neck watching every move he made, she was complaining to the higher ups that he caused too much trouble, didn’t follow protocol, and doubled her work load.

  Well, to his way of thinking, if she had to create a few more lies to keep the existence of werewolves hidden from the human population, then so be it. His job was to save lives and to ensure the Book of the Law was followed. Keeping things neat and tidy wasn’t his problem… or at least he wished it wasn’t. Ever since the Langstaff case he’d been forced into behaving like a tight-assed pencil pusher more worried about protocol than getting the job done.

  How Damage Control officers managed to suck up to scumbags like Bronte without puking was beyond him. He could barely stand to breathe the same air as the slimeballs. Schmoozing with them until they agreed to the cover stories… Reno curled his lip in disgust. You’d never catch him being a ‘professional liar’ as the DC officers were sometimes called.

  Wiping the sweat from his upper lip, he exhaled slowly as he approached the vehicle. The woman, who was now sitting up and looking at him expectantly, always set him on edge and he had to school his features into a suitably bland expression to face her.

  “Smith.”

  “Jones”

  Her eyes barely flickered and only a trace of a furrow appeared on her brow at his purposeful error. Once, years ago, he’d called her Jones by mistake. Now he used it as a way to irritate her. It was childish, but something about Brandi always brought out the worst in him.

  They nodded at each other with false politeness.

  “Out of uniform again, I see.” Brandi slid off the hood of her car, looked him up and down, and then sniffed.

  Reno purposely flexed his muscles and smirked as Brandi’s gaze fixed on his six-pack abs, the tip of her tongue peeking out to lick her lips. To hell with being politically correct. He thickened his usually faint western drawl. “Just for you, darlin’. I figured you could use some eye candy to sweeten you up a bit.”

  She rolled her eyes at his mocking tone, her annoyance palpable. He almost smiled, pleased to have irritated her once again, and braced himself for her comeback.

  Instead of snapping back at him as she usually did, she surprised him by merely shifting her gaze so she was staring over his shoulder. “So how big a mess did you leave me this time?” Brandi didn’t attempt to disguise the exasperation in her voice.

  A wave of disappointment washed over him that their verbal sparring was over so quickly, however he hid it and answered her question instead.

  “Hardly anything at all. The Alpha was real cooperative.”

  “What? No brawls in the street? No wolf sightings? No wounds inexplicably healing before human eyes?”

  “Nope. The asshole kept this group close to home. The townsfolk hardly ever saw them. All you need to do is make up a pretty story to explain three families moving away.”

  “Three families?” For a second there was a shadow of concern in her eyes. “Everyone okay?”

  “Yeah.” Reno firmed his jaw and stared at her levelly. Brandi knew how he reacted when one of the halves got injured. She’d been there that one time… He blocked the painful memory not wanting her to know it still had an effect on him.

  “Good.” Their eyes met and for a brief second he thought he saw something there—a yearning, shades of loneliness—then she blinked and the moment was lost. The look in her eyes became detached, her tone business-like. “Okay, here’s the plan. You load them up while I talk to the Alpha and help him create an acceptable scenario to explain the three families’ departure should anyone in the human community ask why they left. Once I’ve supervised the pack meeting and ensured everyone understands, I’ll catch up to you at the first stop. Here’s the itinerary listing all rest stops, suggested supplies, and cover stories if you’re questioned.”

  She tried to pass him an envelope, but he shoved his hands in his pockets instead. “Brandi, I’ve done this before. I don’t need—”

  “Too bad. Regulations state that it’s part of my job to ensure relocations run smoothly.” Brandi poked him in the stomach with the envelope and he grabbed it from her to stop the annoying action. “Thanks for your cooperation. Now I’d better get inside and start calming down Alpha Bronte.”

  She fished some sort of clip out of her purse and quickly twisted her hair up into a professional looking knot, jabbing pins in here and there, then picked up a blazer that was draped over the door of the car and worked her feet into a pair of high heels. As she started to go, he reached out and caught her arm before he could stop himself. She raised her brows and stared pointedly from his hand to his face.

  “Be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.” Reno wondered why he felt the need to caution her.

  “They never are once you’re done with them.” She tried to pull her arm free. “I’ve done this dozens of times, Smith. I can handle the situation myself.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure you can.” He let her go and watched her retreating form, trying not to notice the slight hurt caused by how she’d brushed off his concern.

  Someone hit him on the shoulder. “Hey Reno, wake up.”

  “Huh?” He turned to see Al Zimmerman, Brandi’s partner, standing beside him. “Oh, hey Al. I didn’t see you there.”

  “No? Something else caught your attention?” Al gave a knowing grin and jerked his head in Brandi’s direction. “Don’t worry about her. She’s got more guts than half the Enforcers I know.”

  Reno grunted in acknowledgement.

  “Besides, I’m there to watch her back.” The tall thin werewolf cracked his knuckles and Reno laughed knowing the man was a lot tougher than he looked. Al was as easy to get along with as Brandi was difficult.

  “Then go do your job and I’ll do mine.” Reno nodded towards the Alpha house where Brandi could be seen knocking on the door.

  “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 se
at 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.