Read Online In the Werewolf's Den by Rob Preece - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rob Preece
Ads: Link
his frankly male appraisal was disrespectful, an implicit statement that a normal might be interested in a Were . She couldn't decide whether she really minded.
Dallas's Warder District Office was the top half of the old Dallas Federal Building. Surrounded by acres of parking lots recalling the days when Dallas had been a commuter town filled with gas-guzzling cars, the building made up a non-distinctive part of the Dallas skyline.
How long had it been, she wondered, since Dallas, or any big city, had added another skyscraper? The return of magic had brought construction to a stop across America—maybe everywhere in the world. Not that anyone had much contact with the rest of the world any more. The return had destroyed whatever tourism industry was left after the bio-wars, so Danielle, like everyone else in the country below the senior diplomatic level, had only a vague idea what went on beyond the nation's borders.
She turned in her knives, her automatic (silver bullets and all), and her electronic pulser at the gate, keeping only the choke leash, which was truly part of her uniform.
A couple of security guards seemed interested in striking up a conversation, but abruptly went silent when they found she lived in the zone. Although there was no evidence to support the contagion theory, there wasn't much evidence to support any other theory of magic infection, either. So plenty of people, including most warders, figured that the less time spent with the impaired, the better. Another reason why herders, of all the warders, got the least respect.
With the delay at the gates, she'd had to hurry down the corridors to get to Joe Smealy's office on time but it turned out it wouldn't have mattered. She had to wait an hour outside his office, contemplating all of the trouble she was in if Warder Headquarters had found out about her role in the riots or in bending regulations to let Carl hire his assistants.
Joe Smealy finally opened his door and ushered her in. Joe hadn't aged at all since the day she'd met him—the day she'd discovered her mother's dead body. The then cop had taken a parental interest in the young orphan girl, encouraged her dreams of becoming a warder, and persuaded her to adopt the rigorous academy route rather than simply join as a patrol officer. More than anyone else, he was her mentor, the man she looked up to. When she was tempted to stray—tempted, for example, by a sexy werewolf—she relied on Joe's example to keep her straight.
Joe was living proof that medical science continued to progress. Danielle had done her research. She knew that he was a good fifty years old. But he could have passed for his late thirties.
He gripped her hand firmly and slapped her on the back, then led her to a small table.
Relief. He probably wouldn't greet her like this if he was going to ream her out.
"Sorry I didn't have more time when you arrived in Dallas,” he said. “Visitors from D.C., if you can believe it."
She nodded. “Yes, sir."
"But I wanted to welcome you to the region. I put in a special request for you, you know."
She made herself thank him although she almost wanted to spit. So Joe's request was why she had ended up a herder. Some friend.
"Hey, I know you had your heart set on being a hunter,” he said, his warder talents letting him picture her thoughts. “And that's going to happen as soon as I can work the angles. But Washington insisted on letting that werewolf go and,” he laughed shortly, “well, you know herders."
She shrugged. “It isn't exactly a prestige job.” Had he really said she was going to be a hunter?
He nodded seriously. “Damned right. Because nobody with balls, nobody with ambition, will volunteer to be tied down to a group of impaired. We all want to go where the action is, to fight crime and protect the people."
"Right."
"There are a couple of things, though.” Joe's voice sharpened.
"Sir?"
"The unscheduled riots last week are unfortunate. They aren't to
Dallas's Warder District Office was the top half of the old Dallas Federal Building. Surrounded by acres of parking lots recalling the days when Dallas had been a commuter town filled with gas-guzzling cars, the building made up a non-distinctive part of the Dallas skyline.
How long had it been, she wondered, since Dallas, or any big city, had added another skyscraper? The return of magic had brought construction to a stop across America—maybe everywhere in the world. Not that anyone had much contact with the rest of the world any more. The return had destroyed whatever tourism industry was left after the bio-wars, so Danielle, like everyone else in the country below the senior diplomatic level, had only a vague idea what went on beyond the nation's borders.
She turned in her knives, her automatic (silver bullets and all), and her electronic pulser at the gate, keeping only the choke leash, which was truly part of her uniform.
A couple of security guards seemed interested in striking up a conversation, but abruptly went silent when they found she lived in the zone. Although there was no evidence to support the contagion theory, there wasn't much evidence to support any other theory of magic infection, either. So plenty of people, including most warders, figured that the less time spent with the impaired, the better. Another reason why herders, of all the warders, got the least respect.
With the delay at the gates, she'd had to hurry down the corridors to get to Joe Smealy's office on time but it turned out it wouldn't have mattered. She had to wait an hour outside his office, contemplating all of the trouble she was in if Warder Headquarters had found out about her role in the riots or in bending regulations to let Carl hire his assistants.
Joe Smealy finally opened his door and ushered her in. Joe hadn't aged at all since the day she'd met him—the day she'd discovered her mother's dead body. The then cop had taken a parental interest in the young orphan girl, encouraged her dreams of becoming a warder, and persuaded her to adopt the rigorous academy route rather than simply join as a patrol officer. More than anyone else, he was her mentor, the man she looked up to. When she was tempted to stray—tempted, for example, by a sexy werewolf—she relied on Joe's example to keep her straight.
Joe was living proof that medical science continued to progress. Danielle had done her research. She knew that he was a good fifty years old. But he could have passed for his late thirties.
He gripped her hand firmly and slapped her on the back, then led her to a small table.
Relief. He probably wouldn't greet her like this if he was going to ream her out.
"Sorry I didn't have more time when you arrived in Dallas,” he said. “Visitors from D.C., if you can believe it."
She nodded. “Yes, sir."
"But I wanted to welcome you to the region. I put in a special request for you, you know."
She made herself thank him although she almost wanted to spit. So Joe's request was why she had ended up a herder. Some friend.
"Hey, I know you had your heart set on being a hunter,” he said, his warder talents letting him picture her thoughts. “And that's going to happen as soon as I can work the angles. But Washington insisted on letting that werewolf go and,” he laughed shortly, “well, you know herders."
She shrugged. “It isn't exactly a prestige job.” Had he really said she was going to be a hunter?
He nodded seriously. “Damned right. Because nobody with balls, nobody with ambition, will volunteer to be tied down to a group of impaired. We all want to go where the action is, to fight crime and protect the people."
"Right."
"There are a couple of things, though.” Joe's voice sharpened.
"Sir?"
"The unscheduled riots last week are unfortunate. They aren't to
Similar Books
