“I thought we were protecting you,” Gunnar said.
“That wasn’t Warden’s call to make no matter what he says.It wasn’t yours either.”Bryn folded the letters then slipped them back into their envelopes.“You know better than anyone what it was like to have Templeton in my head, to see the things he’s done.To feel his…hunger.”His voice wavered.“You should have told me.”
“I know.”Gunnar ran a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of frustration.“It was wrong.I made a mistake.”
Bryn stood silent for a long moment, torn between his anger and the obvious regret in Gunnar’s expression.“I need some time,” he said.“And some space.”
Gunnar nodded, his face composed now.“Of course.Whatever you need.”
“Thanks,” Bryn said, hating the formal distance that had sprung up between them.As Gunnar turned to leave, Bryn called after him.“Gunnar?”Gunnar paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder.“I’ll get over it.Let me be angry for a while, okay?”
A faint smile crossed Gunnar’s face.“Okay.”
Left alone in the conference room, Bryn sank back into his chair.He stared at the envelopes, at Templeton’s elegant handwriting.He was certain Templeton never did anything without purpose, never wrote a word that wasn’t calculated for maximum effect.
What do you really want?Bryn wondered.He was as certain as he could be that the casual mentions of the Thanacrine case and Russo were window dressing.His real target was Bryn himself.Always had been, since that first encounter.
See you soon,the first letter had promised.
Bryn shivered.He had no doubt Templeton would keep that promise.The only question was when and how.
Meanwhile, the Thanacrine case needed his attention too.Agent Mercer, the enhanced sanguines and lupines, the pharmaceutical connection…it was all building toward something big.Something dangerous.Bryn wasn’t sure he was ready for either challenge.He gathered up the letters and stood, steadying himself against the table.One problem at a time.First rest, then Templeton’s files.Then he’d figure out how to cope with the dual threats of a psychopath’s obsession and a mob-funded, possibly government sanctioned, genetics conspiracy.
Just another day at GCR.He rolled his neck, which cracked like an old man’s.There aren’t enough Twinkies in the world to deal with this level of suckage.
Chapter Eleven
Bryn squinted at the screen of his cell, which was beeping at him.Warden.Of course.He debated throwing the annoying object out of the room but thought better of it and answered the call.“I’m asleep,” he mumbled.
“Conference room.Twenty minutes.”Warden’s order was perfunctory.“We have a lead on Mercer.”
“We do?”
“Twenty minutes,” Warden repeated, and the line went dead.
“Charming as ever,” Bryn said.He tossed the phone aside and forced himself to sit up.Gunnar’s side of the bed was cold and empty, which gave Bryn a pang of regret.His head felt marginally better after a solid eight hours of unconsciousness but the suggestion of yesterday’s pain still lingered at his temples.He ran a hand through his unruly hair and contemplated the effort required to make himself presentable.
Sounds of movement from the kitchen told him that Gunnar was already up and about.Of course he was—the wolf had endless energy, a trait that both impressed and annoyed Bryn depending on the time of day.Right now, with his head still fuzzy from sleep, it fell firmly into the annoying category.Deciding that coffee was his priority, he shuffled out of his bedroom in his shorts and T-shirt, heading toward the enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen.The GCR apartment had its perks, and Gunnar’s coffee-making skills ranked high among them.
“Morning,” Gunnar said without turning around.“Warden called?”
“How’d you guess?”Bryn asked, making a beeline for the coffee pot.
“Because he called me five minutes ago,” Gunnar replied, sliding a mug across the counter toward him.“Conference room.Twenty-five minutes.Lead on Mercer.”
“Man of few words, our Warden,” Bryn commented, gratefully accepting the coffee.“He only gave me twenty minutes.”He took a gulp, closing his eyes in appreciation.“This almost makes being conscious worthwhile.”
“You’re welcome,” Gunnar said, though there was still a slight stiffness to his frame.
“I missed you last night,” Bryn admitted.“A lot.I’m going to shower.”He downed his coffee.“Save me some of whatever you’re cooking.It smells good.”
“Breakfast burritos,” Gunnar replied.“And I made enough for both of us.I know better than to come between you and food after a reading hangover.”
“Your survival instincts are impressive.”And with that the tension between them dissolved.
Twenty minutes later, showered, dressed, and fortified with caffeine and one of Gunnar’s burritos, Bryn and Gunnar got to the conference room at the same time as Emmett.
“Morning,” Emmett chirped, falling into step beside them.“You look better, Bryn.”
