by Marie Harte
She'd been around enough Mr. Wrongs to be cautious. She'd earned that right. Now maybe if Jesse lightened up and acted like a gentleman instead of an autocratic Neanderthal, they might continue a relationship when this was over.
Mine, always mine.
She shifted in the lounge chair, aware her skin didn't feel too hot, despite the intense sun.
Coconut-scented lotion brought her attention to the bottle beside her.
“I didn't miss any spots, did I?” she asked.
Kisho rolled his eyes. “No. But if you want me to do your back again so you can flip over, I will.”
Not a hint of lust in his voice.
“Why don't you have a boyfriend, Kisho?”
He stilled. “What do you mean?”
“You're handsome, sexy, intelligent, and sensitive. Is it because you're Circ?” she whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear the c word.
He inwardly seethed with discomfort, and she placed a hand on his arm, wishing him calm.
To her surprise, he relaxed.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You pulled my anxiety.” Calm surprise. “I don't like to talk about my personal life, and you sensed it. Then I suddenly felt at ease.”
“I don't know.”
He stared at her. “You still can't feel Fallon, though, can you?”
“Sometimes.” Like when he wants to fuck me, but rarely about anything meaningful. “He's been sending me thoughts.” Or at least he had been before she'd told him to butt out of her mind.
He hadn't liked that, and he let her know in no uncertain terms. “You still didn't answer my question.”
Kisho turned his head and closed his eyes. “I keep my personal life private.”
“The guys don't care. They hold you in deepest respect. And I think Gunnar actually likes you.”
His lips quirked. “He pretends not to like anyone. He's a big fake. Haven't you seen him watching Ava?”
“Yes, actually.” And maybe the woman watched him back, which would explain why she'd become so cold to Olivia the past few days. Olivia blushed, wondering how the hell Ava could know what they'd done that one night. “My point, which you keep avoiding, is that no one on the team would care. I mean, considering what you all do anyway, how could they?”
“They engage in homosexuality because they have to. It's programmed.”
“But that's the way it is anyway, isn't it?”
He turned to her, surprised. “Ah, I'm not sure.”
His uncertainty softened her, making her like him even more. Kisho Hayashi had the soul of a poet, Ava had said, and she was right. He listened, never offered advice unless asked, and contained his emotions behind a wall of control. But she could feel the loneliness inside him, and it bothered her.
He continued. “But I do know we can only find peace with others like us. Without a mate, we experience severe sexual hungers. Often in the past the hungers worsened into mental instability. No one is actually sure why, but it seems that finding someone to alleviate the need to procreate actually eases the mental burdens that have turned so many of us rogue.”
“What's a rogue?” She's heard Jules use the term while talking to Jesse, but as soon as he'd seen her approach, he'd clammed up.
“I told them we should tell you everything, but no one listens to me.” Kisho frowned and turned on his side to face her. “When we were first made, the first batch had problems. You remember the indictments on General Kohl and Senator Kuntz?” She nodded. “Supposedly they covered up a string of murders associated with an experimental program—Project Dawn.”
“Right. The press had a field day with tales of super soldiers and science gone screwy, but they were mostly right.”
Olivia smacked the arm of her lounge chair. “I knew it. The whole story was too bizarre to be fictional. Of course, now after meeting you guys, it makes more sense.”
“You don't know the half of it. My team spent a year in an underground laboratory headed by an evil genius. A real mad scientist.” Kisho frowned. “A lot of good men died there, less than human when they went.” He shook off the memory. “None of that made the papers. Claws and fangs are the tip of the iceberg.”
Her mouth dried. “Why are you telling me this?” The thought of her possibly going through such a transformation scared her to death. Olivia prized control. She chose what jobs she worked. She dated who she wanted, when she wanted. Even when the men she saw turned out to be less than ideal, she broke off the relationships and moved on.
Becoming Circ would change all that. Jesse claimed mating heats forced them into sexual orgies, or they'd go insane. God, Olivia wasn't an orgy woman! Though she'd fantasized a time or two, she'd never thought to engage in a ménage. And then she'd slept with not only Jesse, but Jules and Gunnar too.
But instead of the dismay she should have felt about their night together, she rumbled deep in her chest, a subtle murmur of satisfaction. A part of Olivia felt she deserved such treatment, an odd form of respect from worthy males, and most especially, from her mate.
“It's real, and it's perfectly normal, Olivia,” Kisho said quietly. “We purr when we're happy. We roar when we're mad. We feel deeply, and we instinctively know what we need. I'm telling you about our physical changes so that when they happen and you see them, you won't be scared. The vision I saw of you in the jungle? It hasn't gone away.” She swallowed. “But I'll be with Jesse and Jules, right?” He paused. “Right.”
“But you think I'll freak. Because they'll turn into that physical wildness I haven't seen yet,” she said slowly, understanding what he hadn't said.
“Yes.”
“But it's still Jesse. He's always aware of himself, right?”
“For the most part.”
Olivia sighed. Bad enough he'd become a cute but annoying bully. “Terrific.”
“There's just one other thing, Olivia.”
She didn't want to know. “What?”
“In the jungle, you're wearing that same bathing suit. And the guys who put you there are standing right behind us.”
* * *
“I don't want her here,” Fallon said for the twentieth time since they'd left the States. The suite they had here was nicer than the one he had at home. The damned thing even had a Jacuzzi in it. But Fallon couldn't appreciate anything but the danger surrounding his mate. His beast didn't like any of this, nor did the Navy SEAL ready for action.
Jules sighed. “We've been over this. Hayashi said she needs to be here.”
“Bullshit. His visions are possible futures, not definite futures.”
“You're talking to a brick wall, Jules,” Tersch grumbled next to them. “She has him by the dick.”
“Asshole. That's not the point.”
“That's exactly the point. You're not thinking straight. If we'd left her at home, Montaña's men would have grabbed her. Hayashi said so. She's safer here with us.”
Fallon's beast was screaming at him to protect his mate. Yet Jules insisted he leave her with Hayashi while they hashed this out. According to their unreliable seer, had they followed Fallon's decision to leave Olivia at home, she'd manage to leave the safety of the house and fall into enemy hands. How exactly, Hayashi didn't know. But Mrs. Sharpe had agreed they had to take Olivia with them into Trindade.
He moved through the open doors onto the balcony and looked down on his mate, the object of way too much male speculation for his peace of mind. The assholes he'd warned away had left, but too many men thinking with their dicks remained by the pool. “The fuckers are all watching her.”
“She's sexy. What do you expect?” Tersch retorted. “Hell, I can barely look away as it is, and I know that fine ass.”
“You're such a dick,” Fallon said with disgust, gripping the railing of the balcony with long fingers. “See if you come anywhere near her ever again.”
“Ease up, man. She likes me.” Tersch's broad grin annoyed him.
Especially wh
en Jules added, “Not as much as she likes me.” Then he sobered. “Cheer up, Fallon. We won't let anything happen to her.”
“Oh really?” Fallon snarled. “Then what the hell's that?” He pointed below him, where four brutish men surrounded Hayashi and Olivia.
“Damn, he was supposed to wait.” Jules leaned over the rail.
“What?”
“Our contact insisted on meeting Olivia away from us. For some reason he doesn't trust Mrs. Sharpe.”
“I hear him on that.” Tersch grunted. “The transmitter's working?”
“Yeah.”
“Jules, so help me, leader or no leader, if you don't fill me in, I'm going to shove your balls up your throat.”
Jules had the nerve to grin. “Quite an image. Fallon, the reason I didn't mention this before is that you never would have gone along with the plan, and we need Olivia to meet with Gatito.
There's a transmitter sewn into Olivia's top so we can follow her. Discreetly,” he emphasized and caught Fallon's arm when he tried to leave. “We spook him; he'll bolt.”
“So those assholes belong to him?” Fallon watched as they led Olivia off the patio through the building and out of sight. Hayashi remained tense, standing by the lounge chairs. “How does our criminal contact plan to stay under the radar using those thugs?”
“Those thugs are state polícia and friends of our esteemed Mrs. Sharpe, though Gatito doesn't know that. Relax. We have it covered. Ask your girlfriend if you don't believe me.” Fallon felt like an idiot for not having thought of that sooner. “I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't know about this until now. Olivia, it's okay. We're tracking you with a transponder sewn into your suit.”
“I know, Kisho mentioned it before dropping this bombshell. Warn your Circs, I'm going to carve them into little pieces when I get back. There's such a thing as sharing information with your own team.”
He let out a relieved sigh and left the balcony, but not before warning Jules. “One of those fuckers touches her, and he's losing a hand. Let's go.” Tersch grinned. “I love when Fallon turns mean. Now let's have some fun.”
* * *
They followed the group by trading off. Tersch tracked her, then Hayashi, Jules, and finally Fallon. The polícia dropped her off near an isolated beach house off the beaten path. Run-down and buried in a thick tropical mess, at least its location afforded Fallon cover while he darted in closer.
He used his nose to lead him to Olivia, whose fear bothered him. He stopped when he caught clear sight of her standing across from a nervous little man who wouldn't stop fidgeting.
The guy seemed more worried than Olivia, which settled some of Fallon's fear that he would try to harm her.
“Obrigado por ter vindo encontrar-se comigo.” Olivia held out her hand, looking out of place in her yellow bikini and sun-kissed body. Beauty and the beast, he thought with wry amusement as the smaller fellow accepted her hand.
“I'm here,” Fallon sent, wanting to reassure her. “What did you tell the guy?”
“I thanked him for meeting with me. Now hush and let me learn what he has to say. That is why I'm here, after all.”
He sensed her unloading power and watched as her companion relaxed by degrees.
Apparently Olivia could do more than sense feelings; she could control them as well. To his surprise, he found his beast liked the thought of her with more power. Dominating a weaker woman wouldn't be much of a challenge.
“Chamo-me, ally from such a character as this Olivia Gatito. Não temos muito tempo. Vou contar-lhe o que sei.” The guy rambled on, but all Fallon caught was Gatito, his name.
Several minutes passed. Olivia frowned, questioned Gatito, seemed to disagree with him at times, then nodded. For his part, Gatito remained in the shadows of the trees, his back to the large palms behind him. It didn't take a Circ to smell his fear, and Fallon noted how Olivia used her voice to question him. Soothing, reassuring, and not at all the one she used when speaking with him.
Subtle rustling to his right and the scent of cedar and vanilla indicated Tersch and Jules had arrived. Across from the partial clearing, he saw Hayashi's wave before he disappeared into the vegetation. Much of Fallon's agitation eased when he knew his team had this meeting surrounded.
And then a smell that didn't belong in the jungle reached him. The rotting scent of rogue Circ—something he'd never forget, and something he hadn't experienced in over a year.
“Shit. Jules, rogues.” He stripped and changed in an instant, prepared to protect Olivia at all costs.
“Where?” Jules asked.
“I'm not—there, by Hayashi.” Fronds and branches waved. Rustling and growling grew louder, alarming Gatito, who shoved some papers into Olivia's hands before bolting into the jungle, away from the beach.
“Espera!” Olivia cried and stupidly rushed after him.
“Dammit. Olivia, wait,” Fallon ordered. Two rogues rushed him from out of nowhere.
Rogue Circs, unlike the mutants that resembled nothing more than mutated monsters, looked like him and his team. Enlarged bodies, toughened skin, fangs and claws, and powerful needs. But rogues possessed fierce tempers they couldn't control—appetites for sex and destruction caused by a genetic anomaly in their blood, an anomaly that only seemed to abate once a Circ had found a mate—and before turning rogue in the first place.
Years ago scientists working on Project Dawn had created control drugs, but they only managed to turn rogue Circs into mutants. Fallon and his team had beaten the odds and managed to stay sane, leaning on one another for support, as well as the drugs Doc had fashioned for them.
The drugs no longer worked as well as they once did, but Fallon didn't worry about turning rogue. Not with Olivia by his side. Except she wasn't at his side, and he had these assholes to worry about.
Tersch yelled to him, but he didn't understand. The fierce imperative to find and protect Olivia consumed him. Without thinking about it, he sent a mental roar at the rogue closest to him and slashed at his throat. He drew blood, but the wound began healing immediately. The other rogue shoved him back and broke one of his ribs. Fallon hissed through the pain, and having lost sight of Olivia completely, he snapped. His control vanished.
He tore into the rogue who'd shoved him, with no thought but to destroy. They battled back and forth, but Fallon couldn't wait any longer. He shoved a clawed fist through the rogue's chest cavity and dug for his heart. After ripping it from the rogue's chest, he tossed it aside and bounded after Olivia.
Behind him, he heard Tersch's soul-stirring battle cry and knew the berserker had come out to play. About fucking time, he snarled mentally while tracking Olivia with skill and speed. He caught up to her in minutes but was too late to save Gatito, who dangled from the claw of a mutant.
“We have mutants to worry about too,” he broadcasted to the team, unaware of how he did it exactly. Unlike the rogues, the mutants looked like nothing remotely human. This one had a misshapen spine that crooked like an S. Tar black skin, scaled instead of flesh. Red eyes without a hint of white stared malevolently as it gnawed on Gatito's arm. Sharp teeth and a forked black tongue flicked at the man's blood.
Olivia didn't scream. In fact, she made very little noise at all. When she glanced back at him, she froze. A haze of ripe cherries lingered on his tongue, made bitter because of her obvious terror.
“Baby, it's me. Jesse. This is the change in its entirety. That thing over there is an abomination.”
She flinched at his deepened voice but didn't try to escape when he took her in his arms.
Unfortunately the mutant latched onto her scent, as he'd known it would. It roared, dropped Gatito, and made a beeline in their direction.
“Run,” Fallon yelled and launched himself at the mutant. He wondered what the fuck these things were doing still alive and in this particular place. Especially when he and the team were here at the exact same spot at the exact same time. He did his best to stand between the mutant and his mate.
Muta
nts had twice as much strength as Circs, as they weren't held back by control, reason, or conscience. They did what they pleased when they pleased, and corrupted by an unnatural drug, they lost the power to think with any sense of logic, the only flaw in their design, as far as Fallon could tell.
The thing picked him up and threw him into the base of a thick tree, cracking his femur.
The pain stunned Fallon for a moment before he rolled to his feet and fought back while he healed. Olivia, damn her, hadn't moved.
“Jules, I need help. Olivia's in danger,” he yelled with his mind. “Olivia, dammit, get out of here!”
“Coming. More mutants out here,” Jules returned, mentally struggling.
Tersch's eerie growl echoed around them. He could only imagine what the sight of his monstrously large friend would do to Olivia's already fragile state of mind.
The mutant caught him in the side, using his distraction against him. The bastard pierced his flesh with twisted, jagged claws that hurt like a bitch. He roared his displeasure and cried out in pain as the thing ripped its nails out. They entered smoothly but pulled out more flesh, the jagged teeth on the things fucking effective weapons.
Bleeding like a sieve, Fallon faltered on his feet. Need to keep clearheaded for Olivia, he told himself and forced his feet to move. A glance at her showed her fixated on his blood.
“Olivia, honey, please. You have to get to safety,” he growled, upset his mate wouldn't leave. The damned woman was going to get herself killed.
The mutant sniffed in her direction and grinned. Then it wrapped itself around Fallon, clinging like a goddamn leech, and bit into his neck.
Trying to free himself from its bone-crushing grip was bad enough, but feeling the mutant's pronged tongue sucking at his neck, ingesting his blood, freaked the hell out of him. Light-headed and growing weaker, Fallon struggled for Olivia's sake. But as his ribs cracked, he began to drown in the fluid building up in his lungs.
