“He’s an American diplomat,” she admitted although she omitted from which department. Only a select few in the United States government were privy to that classified information.
“You’re going to take me home to daddy?” he teased, lips moving from her palm to her forearm.
The thought of Marc meeting her father made her smile. He was intimating, but then Marc didn’t seem easily intimidated. “I guess so. To give you fair warning, he’s scared off more than one of my boyfriends off.”
“Is that what I am? Your boyfriend?” He dragged her arm over his shoulder and began to kiss the curve of her neck.
A flush of mortification and craving rushed through her body. The emotions warred with each other for supremacy. “No, you’ll be a poser. I don’t date just any guy.”
“I’m not just any guy.” He pulled her closer and nibbled at her ear.
No, he wasn’t just any guy. With her fingers, she blazed a trail along his side and under the hem of his shirt. Her nails brushed the burn on his waist and he flinched.
“Sorry.” She moved her hand higher and splayed it over the taut skin of ribs. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Zan was right, we do need to get some sleep.”
He cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth close, his lips playing on hers as he spoke. “We have a long flight ahead of us. There will plenty of time to sleep.”
She sensed his grin more than felt it. Common sense and a bid for self-preservation said to stop the madness, yet she welcomed the insanity with open arms.
THE END
About the Author
To Sherri Shaw, the only thing better than reading a good book is writing one. She penned her first novel at seventeen and although she inevitably graduated to a keyboard, she is still creating stories full of adventure, romance, and humor. In addition to writing, she designs her own book covers.
www.SherriShaw.net
Origins: The Men of MER
By
Kristine Cayne
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to take a moment to thank my Street Squad for giving me the inspiration to write this paranormal romance story. I hope you enjoy it, ladies.
Sincere thanks to MsRomanticReads and MCPO Wilson for double-checking my “Navy speak.” You guys rock!
To Dana Delamar, for being the best damn editor and critique partner a girl could have. Your encouragement to try new genres and to push myself as an author has been invaluable. I’m so happy to share this journey with you.
To the Seattle Rainy Day Writers, thank you for coming up with the idea to do a paranormal anthology. It was exactly the kick in the pants I needed. I couldn’t ask for a better writing group.
To my readers, for your Facebook messages, your tweets, and your emails. Your constant support and encouragement keep the stories flowing in my head. You are the reason I write.
Much love,
~Kristine
Chapter 1
Marine Engagement and Reconnaissance (MER) Command
Naval Air Station Whidbey Island
Washington State
Excitement hastening his steps, Petty Officer Second Class Wyatt Black sped through the hallways of MER Command. When he reached the office he shared with his teammates, he whooped. “Fucking A! I beat the record.”
His best friend, Mason “Angel” DiAngelo, grinned and jumped to his feet to high-five him. “Exactly what record are you talking about? It can’t be the one for most chicks beating down your door because you know I’ve got that one.” Mason turned to the other men in the room. “None of you horror shows will ever beat it.”
“Screw you, Mace. I beat Wingman in the breath-retention test.”
A smile spread across Mason’s face and he clapped Wyatt on the back. “That’s the best damn news I’ve heard in months.”
The other men joined in with their congratulations.
“So what time did you get?” Mason asked, cutting through the noise.
“Thirty minutes and nine seconds.”
“Shit, Wyatt. That’s four minutes and forty-two seconds longer than anyone in MK X, ever.”
Wyatt bounced on the balls of his feet. “And the best part? It was a full swim test, no suspension.” The words were barely out of his mouth before the sudden quiet in the room hit him like a twenty-foot wave. Wyatt scowled at his friends. “What’s wrong with you guys? Wingman needed to be taken down a notch.”
With a hand on his arm, Mason pulled him away from the others. In a low voice, he asked, “What did you do, man? We agreed, no more.”
Wyatt yanked his arm away. “Who are you, my father?”
“No. I’m your friend. Or at least I thought I was.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t know what the hell’s happening to you. Most of the time, you seem more animal than man.”
Blood pounded through Wyatt’s veins, delivering a heavy dose of adrenaline to his entire system. He laughed, the sound more like a bark. “You’re jealous. You’re fucking jealous because you’re too much of a coward to be the best MERman that you can be. Well, I’m not. I’ll take whatever enhancements the docs think I can handle.”
Mason’s face turned an ugly shade of red, and his fists clenched. Even though Wyatt could hold his own against his friend, he took a step back. Mason followed, bumping his chest into Wyatt’s. “Who you calling a coward? The difference between me and you is that I’ve got nothing to prove.”
As spittle sprayed his face, Wyatt lost it and charged at his friend. They fell to the floor in a rolling mass of arms and legs. Mason shot his fist at Wyatt’s chin and he returned the favor with a knee to the groin. “Take that, motherfucker!” Wyatt yelled.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” The low controlled voice of Lieutenant Hunter Hadley, the man in charge of MK X, cut through the shouting. Wyatt froze. “On your feet, both of you. Now.”
He jumped to stand at attention. “Aye, aye, sir.” Beside him, Mason did the same.
“Petty Officer DiAngelo, stay here,” the lieutenant said, then pointed at Wyatt, his mouth tight. “You, my office.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Wyatt snapped a salute and marched out of the team office. Tension stiffened his posture as he waited outside the lieutenant’s door for him to arrive. What the hell had he done? If he got thrown into the brig, he’d have to go God knew how many months before he got the chance to see her again. The lovely Dr. Claire Montgomery, the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. He glanced at his watch. As it was, he was already pretty short on time. It would take him a good two hours to get down to the Seattle Aquarium, assuming he didn’t have to wait long for a ferry.
At the sound of clomping boots on the linoleum, he straightened his shoulders even more. If he was going down, he’d go down like a man. Lieutenant Hadley stepped past him, opened his door, and walked inside. A drop of sweat slid between Wyatt’s shoulder blades as he waited for his next instruction. Hadley set his hat on the desk, then pointed to a spot two feet in front of himself. “Enter.”
Swallowing the river of saliva in his mouth, Wyatt walked to the spot, his movements stiff, parade-like. Hadley shoved his face in Wyatt’s. “You will not participate in any more experiments without my express approval, Petty Officer Black.” His face darkened even more and he finished on a shout. “Is that understood?”
Wyatt stared into Lieutenant Hadley’s narrowed eyes. “But the Lieutenant Commander—”
“Will need to go through me.”
A vein in Wyatt’s forehead began to pulse. It was only his years in the military that gave him the control to keep from slamming his chest into his commanding officer’s and shouting back—an action that would see him thrown in the brig for insubordination. What was wrong with him? This type of posturing was nothing new, and he’d never reacted to it before.
“Wyatt,” Hadley said.
The weariness in that one word deflated Wyatt’s anger.
“I’m doing this for your own good.” Hadley raked a hand over his cheek, the rasp of his stubble echoing in the spartan office. “You’ve had more injections than anyone else on the team, in a lot less time. The truth is, we don’t know all the repercussions yet.”
Wyatt continued to stare straight ahead. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”
“Granted.” Hadley pointed to a hardback chair and rounded his desk to take his own seat. “You’re a valuable part of MK X, Wyatt. It’s important to keep in mind that sometimes scientists can lose sight of the subject as they strive to reach their goals.”
“Thank you, sir.” Wyatt sat and cleared his throat, struggling to put his frustration into words. “I just don’t understand what the problem is. I’ve never felt better. I’m stronger, faster, and I can hold my breath longer than anyone else.”
Hadley drummed the edge of his desk. “And you think Petty Officer DiAngelo is jealous because of that? You really think that’s why he’s upset?”
“Yes.” Wyatt paused, then shook his head. He and Mason had been friends before joining MK X, when Mason had been a SEAL and Wyatt had been in EOD, Explosive Ordnance Disposal. Mason had always been a big supporter of his teammates, the first to congratulate anyone when they achieved a goal. “No. That’s not his style. He’s a good guy.”
“I agree. So what started the fight?”
You seem more animal than man. God. Maybe Mason was right. He had changed. “He thinks I’m starting to show some bad side effects.”
“Do you agree?”
He and Mason had gone on a number of missions together and had always had each other’s back. Yet, less than fifteen minutes ago, he’d wanted to rip his friend’s head off. If he said yes, the lieutenant would never allow him to have any more injections. If he said no… he’d be lying. “I may be having some issues with aggression.”
“You don’t say.” The edge of Hadley’s lips curved into an infinitesimal smile, which for him was huge.
Wyatt grinned back, then catching sight of the clock behind the lieutenant’s desk, he swore.
“Something wrong?” Hadley asked.
“I’m late for an appointment, sir.” Okay, it was more like stalking, but he’d do anything to see Claire again.
The lieutenant nodded. “Tomorrow morning 0900 hours, meet me in sick bay. We’ll go over your side effects with the doctors. In the meantime, don’t leave base.”
Wyatt almost got whiplash, his head jerked up so fast. “What? I mean, sorry, sir?”
Hadley sighed. “As you said, you’re stronger and faster than normal people. If you get into a fight, you’re liable to kill someone. We can’t risk that kind of exposure. Not at this stage.”
Shit. The lieutenant was right. Exposure at this point would get them all killed. But damn, he’d been waiting three months for the chance to finally see her again. “Sir, if I could just have a few hours to—”
“Do not leave the base. That’s an order, Petty Officer Black.”
Wyatt pushed to his feet and snapped to attention. “Aye, aye, sir,” he said, lying to his commanding officer for the first time in his military career.
“Dismissed.”
At the lieutenant’s signal, Wyatt scurried out the door. He wouldn’t have gotten off so easy if Master Chief Petty Officer Martin Romero had been the one to catch him and Mason fighting. The master chief was a great guy, but he had a hard-on for discipline.
Wyatt raced through the corridors, out the exit, and across the field to the barracks. He bounded up the stairs, taking them four steps at a time and praying he wouldn’t run into anyone, especially Mason. Later tonight, he’d buy the guy a beer at the NCO club and things would be back to normal. When he reached his room without being spotted, he exhaled in relief.
He checked his watch again. Damn—he was cutting it close. Grabbing the flier announcing the fundraiser at the Seattle Aquarium, he double-checked the times. It was already one o’clock and Claire was scheduled to speak at three. If the lieutenant hadn’t notified the gate guards and he didn’t miss the one-thirty ferry, he could just make it in time.
Wyatt shed his uniform and changed into slacks, a dress shirt, and a suit jacket before racing out of the building to his car. Taking advantage of every shortcut he knew, he arrived at the gate in three minutes flat and flashed his ID.
The guard glanced at it, then shook his head. “Sorry, Petty Officer Black. I’ve got instructions that you are under orders to remain on base.”
“Goddamn!” Wyatt slammed his fist on the steering wheel. He couldn’t believe the lieutenant had notified the gate so soon. The guard’s posture stiffened and his fingers hovered above his weapon. Wyatt raised his hands in surrender. “It’s fine. No problem here.”
He backed out and returned to the barracks and parked the car. Now what? Resting his head against the headrest, he closed his eyes in an effort to calm down. He had to find a way to get to the aquarium. To see Claire. He’d first met her two years ago when he’d been down in San Diego working on a new mine-detection technique with the dolphins in the Navy Marine Mammal Program. At the time, he’d been part of EOD group one and assigned to MK 4 marine mammal system, which was about to be deployed on a mission to the Arabian Sea. The dolphins would locate the naval mines and he’d defuse them. Claire had been there collecting samples for her virology research.
The first time they’d spoken, she’d smiled at him as she petted the dolphin she’d been testing. Her slender hand had smoothed over the animal’s silky back and Wyatt had shivered, imagining her hand on him. Christ. He’d have given anything to be that dolphin. The memory made him laugh. He almost was that dolphin now.
They’d hit it off and had gone to dinner with a group of interns. She’d been eager to hear of his work and how he took care to keep the dolphins from harm. The next time he’d been in town, they’d gone out alone. They’d watched the sun set over the Pacific and had talked late into the night, huddled on the beach in a warm blanket. He’d really liked her from the start. Their mutual love of animals, sea mammals in particular, had kept them talking for hours. It had been obvious to Wyatt that Claire was just as attracted to him as he was to her. That one thing had led to another and that they’d wound up at her place hadn’t surprised him at all.
They’d spent the weekend in bed, only poking their noses out from under the sheets long enough to order pizza. He’d never forget the softness of her skin or the warmth of her breath on his neck as she slept. When Monday morning rolled around, they’d kissed goodbye and he’d promised to call her during the week to make plans for the next weekend. Unfortunately, his team went wheels up and a mission that had been meant to last a few weeks turned into a six-month operation.
As soon as he was back stateside, he went to see her, but she’d changed. She was withdrawn and refused to go out with him again. The most she would tell him was that she’d decided she was too old for him. And that was such bullshit. She was perfect for him. Even if it took him until they were both using walkers, he’d find a way to convince her she was wrong.
Now that Claire had accepted a professorship at the University of Washington, her proximity and expertise in marine mammal viruses made her a key consultant to the MK X program. Of course, she knew nothing of what the program was really about. Knowledge of the platoon was strictly on a need-to-know basis, and very few people needed to know. But on a personal note, her ties to the program would give him a lot more opportunities to run into her. Opportunities he desperately needed.
Getting out of his car, he leaned against the fender. He had to find a way to get to Seattle. Had to get her to agree to go on a date with him. The hope of seeing her again, of convincing her they’d be great together, was the only thing that had gotten him through the past three months of protecting naval installations in the Persian Gulf.
The crashing of waves against the rocky shore and the scent of the salt water caused fifty pounds of stress to fall off his shoulders. Yes! He’d swim to Elliott Ba
y. He only had—he checked his watch—seventy-five minutes to cover forty-five nautical miles. If he wore the dolphin-tail fin, he might just make it.
He sprinted back to his room and changed into his wetsuit. The reflective material would keep him warm and render him virtually invisible in the water. He crammed his running shoes and a change of clothing into the small pack that when attached to his suit, created a hump on his lower back, rounding and streamlining his shape. After strapping a KA-BAR knife to his thigh, he tucked the dolphin-tail fin under his arm and snuck out the back entrance that butted up against the part of Puget Sound known as the Salish Sea.
As he dove into the salty water, he undulated his body and pushed forcefully with his legs. The dolphin tail thrust him forward with incredible speed. Every few minutes, he broke the surface to exchange the air in his lungs. He never felt freer than when he was swimming. A sense of calm and belonging swept over him.
That is, until the communicator built into his wetsuit buzzed. Couldn’t he catch a fucking break?
Seattle Aquarium
Seattle, Washington State
Enthusiastic applause accompanied Claire Montgomery down the small steps at the end of the stage. Several reporters approached her looking for sound bites and clarifications on her speech. Though she’d done enough public speaking to appear at ease, she hated it. She much preferred the solitude of her lab. From across the room, she saw her father walking toward her, and she wasn’t alone in noticing. Even though she was in mid-sentence, the reporters abandoned her to seek out her father, Senator Montgomery. She watched him field questions from the media regarding the new offshore-drilling regulations he’d proposed earlier in the month. She loved the man dearly, but why didn’t he understand his mere presence stole the limelight from the real reason for the fundraiser?
Shadows in the Mist: A Paranormal Anthology Page 27
