Page 28 of Chained
That made Terry wonder whatelsemight change from human form to something else—but he could pursue that line of inquiry another time. “Three of them live at Whitaker’s place. Brothers. Heownsthem, sir. I think they were specially bred… somewhere… and he bought them.”
Townsend ate more pie and looked thoughtful but not surprised. Finally he raised an eyebrow. “Why has this sidetracked you from what you’re supposed to be doing?”
“He… abuses them, sir. He pimps at least one of them out, and—”
“To you?”
Terry’s cheeks heated. “Yes. But I’m not the first. Whitaker beats him too. He doesn’t let them have any choices, really. He treats them like guard dogs.”
“Why do you care? Because you fucked one of them?”
This time anger rather than embarrassment flushed Terry’s face. “I didn’t. I mean… sort of, but not…. That’s not the point. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, sir. Not even if they’re not human.”
After swallowing the last of his pie, Townsend wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Do these brothers feel the same way? Are they unhappy with their treatment? And if so, why do they stay?”
“At least one of them is miserable. I didn’t speak with the others. But he stays because….” Terry had to consider this for a moment. “All the reasons, sir. Because he was literally raised to expect that kind of treatment—he thinks it’s what he deserves. Because of Stockholm syndrome. Because he thinks he should be loyal to his owner. Because he doesn’t want to be separated from his family. Because he doesn’t know where else to go, what else to do. Because he’safraid, sir.”
“Of what?”
“There was a fourth brother. Whitaker mutilated him and then murdered him.”
Townsend regarded him evenly. “Your aunt—the woman who raised you—she had a heavy hand, didn’t she?”
This time, all the blood drained from Terry’s face and his mouth went dry. His hands fisted tightly enough to hurt.
But Townsend simply continued, his tone conversational. “She tried to whip the spirit out of a lively boy. Maybe tried to whip away the queerness too. But you stayed with her until you signed on with the police at twenty-one. And you never told a soul.”
“Don’t.” It was meant as a threat but came out as a whisper. A plea.
“Are you certain your assessment of this shifter’s situation is accurate and not simply a projection of your own repressed feelings?”
Terry wanted to lash out and deny everything. But Townsend had a way of knowing the truth, as he’d just demonstrated. Terry firmed his chin. “My past helps me understand his situation, sir. It helps me empathize. But I know the difference between him and me. And right now he’s in danger, in part because he protected me. He needs our help.”
Outside the window, a homeless man sauntered by. He looked into the diner, catching Townsend’s eyes, and suddenly looked terrified. But Townsend smiled and gave him a small salute, and the man—who had something weird going on with his eyes and probably wasn’t exactly a man—gave a relieved nod and took off at a healthy clip.
Townsend turned his smile to Terry. “It’s a funny thing. When the Bureau was established seventy years ago, President Wilson was sold on the idea of a federal agency to protect humans from nonhuman species. Which was true enough, my boy, true enough. But just as often, it seems that we’re called on to protect an NHS from humans. It makes you wonder what a monster truly is.”
“Whitaker is a monster. I don’t care what species he is.”
“Yes. I concur. Which is why we need to apprehend him.”
“Then go!” Terry shouted. Slightly abashed when nearby diners turned to stare, he lowered his voice. “Arrest him.”
“The Bureau enjoys special freedoms not granted to other law-enforcement agencies. The nature of our work requires it. But we’re not unrestricted. We still operate within the rule of law. And we cannot act against a suspect unless and until we have sufficient evidence.”
“Sufficient evidence,” Terry spat. “As decided by who?”
“Me.”
A simple statement of fact, indisputable and implacable. Terry wanted to cry.
Townsend waved at Lorene, who brought them more coffee and cleared away their plates. “Tell me everything, Brandt. Everything that occurred from the moment you entered Whitaker’s estate.”
Terry’s briefing lasted for three more cups of coffee, a trip to the bathroom on his part, and a grilled cheese sandwich for Townsend, who apparently felt peckish. Other customers came and went, but Terry and Townsend remained, with Terry spilling every detail he could recall—including his sexual encounter with Edge—and Townsend occasionally asking for clarification.
When Terry was finally finished, his throat hurt. And he couldn’t help wondering what was currently happening to Edge. But Townsend pulled out his cigarettes and silently chain-smoked three of them, stubbing each remainder into a chipped ceramic ashtray.
At long last, he sighed. “We’ve known about the issue of dog shifters for some time. We’ve suspected that at least one facility has been breeding them, but it hasn’t been a top priority. Perhaps that can change.”
