by Marie Harte
Reynolds's smile faded. “Kisho, pleasure to meet you.” He held out a hand.
To refuse to take it would be the soul of discourtesy.
Kisho thought a split second about refusing, shored his nerve, and reached out. The minute their hands made contact, something shifted inside him. A flare of recognition burst in Reynolds's green gaze, and his eyes darkened.
Kisho quickly withdrew his hand. “Reynolds.”
“Call me Morgan.” A deep voice, firm, yet filled with warmth.
Kisho didn't like him. He turned to Jules. “When are we debriefing?” Unfortunately, he glimpsed Olivia's curiosity directed his way. Terrific. With his luck, she read his unease as well as his attraction, and she'd no doubt share her findings with Fallon.
Mrs. Sharpe answered with a frown and glanced from him to Reynolds, as if warning him to behave. “Be at the conference room in an hour. Oh, and Kisho, would you mind showing Morgan around on your way upstairs?”
“I'm going outside.” He'd intended to go upstairs and lie down in his room, to soothe his growing headache. Now he had a sudden need to see the garden.
“Perfect. You can show Morgan the evergreens before you go upstairs. His room is right next to yours.”
Kisho clenched his jaw and glanced at Jules, who looked no happier at the announcement.
What the hell was Mrs. Sharpe thinking, inviting a civilian to join their team? Olivia at least was Circ. She fit Fallon to a tee. But she didn't accompany them on missions, and she had no problems submitting to her mate and to Jules, their team leader. Kisho sensed this man would demand to be in charge and included. And that would cause some major problems.
He turned on his heel. “Come on,” he growled but didn't look behind him to see if Reynolds followed. Because the way his day seemed to be progressing, he'd just found a new shadow, one he had a feeling would be hard to shake.
Morgan followed Kisho Hayashi, stunned and trying not to show it. The job offer from Alicia Sharpe came with strings, and he'd both expected and accepted that. But this…
He couldn't stop staring. Kisho kept some distance between them but didn't look back, thankfully missing Morgan's slack-jawed expression. As it was, the empath and mind reader in the living room had done their damnedest to penetrate his shields. Hawkins had scrutinized him from head to toe for a good hour, hoping to read his aura. But none of them would see anything Morgan didn't want them to see.
Morgan assessed his new teammate. Alicia and her fucking stipulations. For once, the woman had what he needed, and instead of giving it to him for past services rendered, he had to play her game to win the prize. The old Morgan would have taken what he wanted. To hell with everyone and everything else. But he was trying to be a better man.
For those broad shoulders, long legs, and that tight ass in front of him, he'd have to be better. Do better.
Then Kisho turned around, and he lost his train of thought, drowning in that dark, fathomless gaze that sucked him deeper. The need to possess hit him hard, and Morgan almost tripped over an uneven flagstone.
“You okay?” Kisho asked, his deep voice gruff. Despite the man's displeasure with the situation, he vibrated with sexual tension. An added bonus and just one more reason for Morgan not to mess up his shot.
“Just fine.” I was so busy staring at your ass I tripped. No worries. Morgan flashed him an arrogant grin that had annoyed so many others, and smothered a chuckle when Kisho tightened his lips in annoyance. “So what's it like, living in this big place and working for Mrs. Sharpe?” Kisho shrugged. “It's a job.”
“Not too many rules, I hope.” He walked closer, testing to see how close Kisho would allow him.
When the handsome Asian growled low in his throat, Morgan pretended he hadn't heard him and stopped to look at the sculpted evergreens in the garden. His heart raced; he was so near what he'd been looking for for so long.
Kisho let out a breath. “Back off, Reynolds.”
“Morgan.”
“Morgan. Back the fuck up.”
To Morgan's delight, Kisho neared him until they stood nose to nose. He could feel the heat bleeding through their clothes, could scent the subtle flavor of cinnamon on the air.
“I don't know who you are or why you're really here. This team is my family. So you try screwing with anyone, you'll answer to me.” Kisho's threat sounded all the more impressive, delivered as it was in a quiet, controlled growl.
Morgan licked his lips, and Kisho's gaze fixated on the movement. “Easy, Kisho. I was hired by Mrs. Sharpe to assist you. Not to hurt anyone or make waves. I'm here to help. Anything you need, I'm your man.” He leaned closer, so that his lips were nearly brushing Kisho's. To his delight, he had an inch or two on the man, and it gave him a heady feeling of dominance he wasn't sure he could continue to pull off when he and Kisho eventually tangled.
The idea he'd have to fight for what he wanted made his arousal almost unbearable.
Before he could blink, something sharp pricked his throat. A bead of blood trickled down his neck, the tickle of pain just one more tease he'd have to deal with.
“That's my left pinkie. So when I tell you I want some space, you'll give it to me, won't you?” Kisho whispered. His eyes flashed with a heat he tried to hide, but Morgan saw it all the same.
The stubborn male wanted to play. Oh God, he is so damned perfect. Morgan took a step back, away from Kisho's hand and the lethal nail extending from his finger. Captivated by the savagery in the still, gentle warrior, as Alicia liked to call him, Morgan took a deep breath, inhaled more of Kisho's spicy scent, and coughed to hide a groan.
“Sorry if I offended. Not my intent,” Morgan rasped and shifted on his feet.
Kisho's gaze followed the motion. Only the slight flaring of his nostrils told Morgan he'd noticed Morgan's erection. “I don't know what you intend, Morgan.”
“Oh, I'll make sure to let you know.” Morgan wanted nothing more than to ease his sudden, voracious need for the handsome male before him. Instead, he hid the truth behind a facade, the way he normally did. “Now, handsome, how about that tour I was promised?” He wiped away the blood from his neck. The wound had closed seconds after Kisho had opened it. Morgan hoped he didn't notice the speedy healing.
Thankfully, Kisho looked away from him. It didn't take an empath to see his new friend was annoyed. And aroused.
“This is the garden. Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house.” They walked past a ton of rooms downstairs, but the ones that interested Morgan most were the gym and the backstairs that led to the wing where the Circs lived. They ascended to the second floor, where Kisho took him past the team's wing further down the hallway that opened to overlook the foyer. On the other side a bevy of rooms stood waiting.
“Our wing is private. This wing, where you'll be staying, is for guests.” Morgan didn't bother correcting him. Let Alicia set him straight.
“So are all of you bi?” he asked with a bluntness that took Kisho aback.
“What?”
“I'm familiar with Circs. I know the original project started way back, over thirty years ago. Dr. Elliot Pearl came up with an idea to create enhanced humans. The military jumped on the idea to start an army of super soldiers, except Pearl's formula didn't work the way it should have. Now there's a team up north, a bunch of Special Forces Marines who made it past the crazy stage of life. Project Dawn, right?”
Kisho didn't answer, sizing him up.
“And then there's you four. The Dawn Endeavor team. Prior SEALs with deadly skills, courtesy of the U.S. Navy, not to mention your own psychic twists. Pair that with the ability to transform into beasts with armored skin and lethal claws, and you're pretty intimidating. Only problem is you guys have mating heats that, left untreated, turn you into psychotic killers.
History of the Circ in a nutshell, eh?”
“How do you know—”
“I've met Dr. Evan Dennis, the Circ expert in Jersey. Doc's a nice guy. His Circs are a bit aggressive,
but I'd expected that. Kind of proprietary about their females, too.” Morgan shook his head. “I mean, I reached out to shake a hand and nearly had my head ripped off.” He rotated his neck. “No harm, no foul, I suppose. Doc's not only pleasant, but he's a smart guy. A lot easier to read than your Mrs. Sharpe, that's for sure. So are you or not?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you all bisexual?”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
Morgan liked Kisho's anger. His slightly slanted eyes narrowed, and his full lips firmed. So damned sexy. He wondered what those lips would look like wrapped around his cock. “Well, I know you like me. But will I have to be on guard around the others and Olivia? I get the feeling Fallon doesn't like to share.”
“I don't like you. And Fallon and Olivia are mated—married,” Kisho quickly corrected.
“Since you seem to know everything about Circs, you know we do what we have to do to survive, not because we like it.”
The defensiveness in Kisho's voice tugged at him, because Morgan swore he detected a thread of shame. He brushed any sympathy aside. Nice wouldn't win him the prize. “But you do like it, don't you, kitsu?”
Kisho shoved him so hard, his head bounced against the wall. “What did you call me?” Kitsu, an ancient Japanese word for fox and Morgan's special name for the perfect partner he'd been promised so many years ago. Satisfaction replaced the hint of doubt worrying him. Ah, so Kisho did know what their future held in store for them. One problem solved.
“Take your hands off me, little fox, before I put them where they really belong.”
Kisho stepped back in a rush. Then he took a hesitant step forward, as if he couldn't help himself. But Morgan didn't mistake the surge of panic in his dark brown eyes now black with anxiety.
Come on, my little kitsu. Look deeper. See me. Know me.
“Whoa! Hayashi, buddy, you okay?” Another giant joined them, this one blond, and ruined the moment.
Morgan wanted to gut him. Instead, he turned to him and raised an arrogant brow. “You must be Frederik. Nice to meet you.”
Tersch glanced at Kisho and growled at Morgan. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Nice mouth, Gunnar,” Ava's husky voice sounded from behind him. She peeked out around Tersch's large body and grinned. “Morgan! Hey baby! Nice to see you again.” She threw herself into his arms, and Morgan hugged her back. Tersch's annoyance spoke volumes, and Morgan's grin widened.
“You just keep looking better and better,” he said, aware he spoke the truth. “Thanks for the tour, Kisho. Ava can finish for me. See you later, hmm?” He took her under his arm and walked away, conscious of two Circs burning holes into his back.
“They still looking?” he whispered.
“Oh yeah.” Ava wiggled closer, and Morgan swore he heard Tersch's teeth grind. Once out of sight of the others, however, Ava dragged him downstairs, past Mrs. Sharpe's grand study, and into a smaller room.
Organized without a speck of dust anywhere and with a contemporary design, the room felt like Ava. She threw herself into a chair and waved at him to do the same. “Nice to see you, cuz.” He smiled. Though not related by blood, their families had been good friends for years. He didn't deny the association. “I haven't seen you in forever, but I see Alicia's still keeping you hopping.”
“No shit.” Ava sighed, then shook her head. “But don't change the subject. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Mrs. Sharpe hired me to work some leads. I'm here to find Captain William Delancey for your team. From what I gather, he's a traitor, a murderer, and he nearly killed your Circs at one time or another, though no one can prove his involvement.” She frowned, her sparkling eyes lit from within with an energy uniquely Ava. “Hold on.
No one told me you'd be coming.”
“I'm sorry. Was I supposed to clear this with you? Or maybe Alicia should have asked you first?”
“Asshole.”
He chuckled. “So what's it like, living at Circ central?” She sighed. “Trying. Alicia's a pain. She's gotten really bossy in her old age.” Ava grinned.
“The guys are great. Not sure what you did to piss them all off, but since that's your usual M.O., I'm sure the death threats and fights will keep us hopping for days. Or however long you're here, which is how long, by the way?”
“Worried I'll try to steal your boyfriend?” he teased. He hadn't missed Tersch's proprietary manner with Ava, or the way she'd looked at him.
She flipped him the finger, and he laughed.
At that moment, Jules Hawkins poked his head in the door. Seeing Ava and Morgan together, he scowled. “Reynolds, I need a word.”
Morgan's humor faded as he spied yet another obstacle preventing him from what he'd come to claim. The team's possessive, aggressive leader would be a problem. Especially when he realized what Morgan really intended for one of his Circs.
The minute Morgan stepped out the door, Jules pinned him to the wall. No mean feat, considering Morgan had as much weight on him as Jules. But he wasn't stupid enough not to realize the predator holding him could carve him up in seconds.
“I don't trust you, and I'm watching you. Mrs. Sharpe might want you here, but the Circs belong to me. Fuck with them, and you'll wish you were dead. I promise you.” Jules dropped him to the ground before Morgan realized his feet had been off it. He landed, breathing hard, and watched Hawkins disappear down the hall.
So much for the warm welcome he'd hoped for.
“Oh yeah. Making friends and influencing people all over the place.” Ava stood in the doorway and shook her head. “Come back in, and I'll fill you in on our happy little family. Just promise me you won't get killed before this mission is over. The last time you died, your mother nearly had a coronary. And she's twice as bad as Alicia.” Morgan winced. “You had to bring that up, didn't you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Morgan pushed away the memories of the blood, pain, and darkness he worked so hard to hold at bay. Darkness that faded whenever he envisioned his kitsu waiting for him. “Well, cuz, let's talk about your new 'family,' then. Because I have a lot to do before my next death. And considering the trouble that circulates around this team, I'm sure it'll be a real doozy.” Ava sighed. “And the world just keeps getting crazier and crazier.”
Chapter Three
Three days later
“I don't see him. Oh, wait. There he is,” Fallon murmured as he squinted.
The hour had passed two in the morning. The team sat at a picnic table on a small wooden deck overlooking the ocean. They watched through the darkness, across the waterway, studying the outer deck of a seedy bar. Under the light of a full moon, Morgan Reynolds finessed answers out of a smuggler wanted on several counts of robbery and extortion in the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida.
From their distance, no one would think them able to see anything of importance in the seedy bar on the waterfront. Except Circs could do what normal men couldn't. At this hour of night, sound intensified in the absence of so many people, sheltered inside from the biting wind.
The roar of the ocean swelled around them, mirroring their frustration.
“Hard to miss him and that big mouth of his,” Tersch muttered.
Jules quirked a smile. “Jealous of his apparent charm with Ava?”
“Of him? Yeah, right.” Tersch huffed, but Kisho shared a wide smile with the others.
“What are you shits laughing at?”
“Nothing.” Kisho didn't want Tersch to feel bad, but honestly, the man wore his jealousy for the entire world to see. “I don't think you need to worry about Ava. I don't sense a huge attraction there.”
Tersch gaped and sat up straight. “Are you kidding? I saw Reynolds come out of her room at one in the morning. What the hell do you think they're talking about that late?”
“Yeah, but have you smelled him on her?” Fallon asked.
“Well, no. Not yet.” Tersch clenched his hand into a fist. “But when I d
o…”
Kisho rolled his eyes. “He's flirting with her to piss you off.”
“It'd be just like Ava to encourage him,” Jules offered, then asked, “What do you guys make of him?”
Fallon frowned. “It's only been a few days, but the women seem to love him. I can't read him, and Olivia said it's like there's a huge wall around his emotions. Doesn't bother her, though.
Just adds to some stupid appeal she says he has.” He snorted. “'Charming' isn't a psychic trait, nor is it a word I'd use with that dick.”
“Amen,” Tersch agreed.
Jules's lips flattened. “I can't read him either.”
Kisho blinked. “No aura?”
“No, it's weird. Even Mrs. Sharpe projects, but it's like he's holding back.”
“On purpose?” Kisho knew some people had shields, or so Jules had told him. Even Fallon couldn't read everyone, nor could Olivia, though their exceptions seemed few and far between.
Jules shook his head. “I don't know. I do know Mrs. Sharpe hired him.” Tersch frowned. “Keeping our distance isn't working. We need to get closer to the bastard and see what he's up to. Just because he might get us a few steps closer to Delancey doesn't mean he's golden.”
Kisho nodded in agreement, focused on the scene half a mile away across the curved beach. Despite the dozens of criminals mingling around the seedy bar, Reynolds didn't look at all afraid or worried. In fact, he looked as if he fit in with the seedy element. Too bad the association didn't make him look any less attractive.
The sudden silence around Kisho suddenly penetrated. He glanced back to see his team looking at him. “What?”
“Reynolds seems to like you well enough.” Jules raised a brow in question.
Kisho could feel his cheeks heat but refused to look away. “No, he doesn't.” Fallon nodded. “Yes, he does. He doesn't project, but his eyes don't lie. The big dude might have a thing for Ava, but he's definitely got a thing for you, too.” Not what Kisho needed to hear. It was hard enough to pretend an indifference to the man.