Dawn Endeavor 2: Hayashi's Hero

by Marie Harte

  Grinding into his lover's face, Morgan shook until he was bone-dry. But he didn't have time to relax because Kisho rose above him and shoved his hot, pulsing cock between Morgan's lips.

  “I'm in charge now, aren't I, mate?” Kisho's beast stared out at him through slit pupils. A partial change, and one that made Morgan hungry to taste the beast.

  He answered by taking Kisho to the back of his throat. Squeezing Kisho's balls, the way Kisho had just done to him, Morgan gave his mate back the painful pleasure he seemed to need.

  Kisho fucked his mouth with short, sharp bursts, his uneven, raspy breaths growing shorter as he neared his own climax.

  “Yes, swallow me, mate. Take my cum. Eat me.” He moaned and slammed once more into Morgan's mouth before climaxing.

  Morgan swallowed a mouthful and more of Kisho, not wanting their bliss to end. Each pulse, each taste of his mate, sated another hunger, one he hadn't realized he'd had. On some level, Morgan was changing. He knew it, could feel it, and didn't care. Nothing mattered but his fox. And now that the hunt was over, he intended to indulge for as long as he could.

  Kisho pulled out and slithered back down Morgan's body, lying on top. “I'm going to fuck you, too. Until there's not one part of your body that doesn't belong to me,” he growled, sounding and looking more inhuman with each passing second.

  “Let me see all of you.”

  Kisho stared at him with eyes that glowed. The pupils subtly elongated, now slit like those of a cat, a giant predator too sated to kill, but one who no doubt intended to play with his prey.

  “You sure?”

  “Trust me. I want to see what's mine.” Morgan threw a hint of mean into his voice, needing Kisho's beast to recognize that just because Kisho was bigger, he wasn't necessarily badder.

  Kisho moved off Morgan and lay down next to him. Morgan turned on his side to watch, intrigued and excited as the beast rose to take command.

  Using the energy swirling between the two of them, and feeling high on the sweet scent of orange and cinnamon that filled the room, Morgan unconsciously pulled a tendril of energy from Kisho and wrapped it around himself, more than content with the feeling of belonging.

  Kisho trembled. “I don't know what you did, but my beast loved it. Do it again.” As Kisho's skin darkened, his body elongated, and his muscle mass grew. Morgan stole another band of energy and hugged it tight.

  A loud purr vibrated next to him, and Morgan stared into the face of the inhuman creature he'd fallen in love with.

  “Fuck, you're so hot when you're raw. I love your beast, kitsu.” I love you. Morgan kissed Kisho's larger mouth and licked at his fangs. Then he leaned closer and shoved his throat at Kisho's mouth. “Come on. Taste. You know you want to.” The purring grew louder. Kisho opened his mouth and nuzzled Morgan's throat. The danger of having the beast so close, so near to doing him harm if he barely tried, turned Morgan on yet again.

  “Hmm, tasty,” Kisho rasped. He nipped at Morgan's throat, but Morgan barely felt the sting, his attention once again drawn to his unbelievable recuperative powers.

  “I'm hard again,” he said in amazement. Even for him, this was unusual.

  “Like a Circ.” Kisho sucked at his throat and lapped the small wound closed with his tongue. “God, you taste so good. You're mine now. And that should be bad. But I can't think of why at the moment.”

  Kisho suddenly sat up and pulled Morgan with him, caging him in his hold from front to back. He forced Morgan's legs wide and lifted him higher, positioning Morgan's ass against the tip of something hard. A large erection prodded Morgan's puckered hole. “You like pain. I can smell it. And I can see it.” Kisho kissed his neck and leaned over his shoulder, fixating on his cock. “How fast do you heal?” Kisho shifted his hips, and Morgan felt something hot and wide tease his anus.

  “Hell. I knew this was coming.”

  “Oh yeah. Coming. I like the sound of that. Open up, lover. Because it's time my beast had some fun too.”

  Morgan wanted to protest, but he instinctively knew Kisho, though seemingly too large to accommodate, would fit. He had to accept all of his mate. And he would.

  What he hadn't counted on was how he'd make it happen.

  Chapter Seven

  Kisho didn't know what to say. His beast hadn't stopped purring since he'd come hard into Morgan's tight ass the first time. Hours later, he still couldn't believe it.

  “You're Circ.” He continued to spend, in awe at this marathon sex he shouldn't possibly be having. With the team, he had sex as a beast and could go for a long time, until they sated the mating heat.

  But he and Morgan had been fucking as beasts for hours without a break. Ever since Morgan had subtly changed into a weird kind of human-Circ hybrid, Kisho's arousal had been off the charts. Morgan had grown taller, more muscular, and slightly darker. But his eyes didn't change, nor did he grow fangs or claws. All of him had simply been more. And his strength matched that of a Circ's, measure for measure.

  Kisho's dick ached as he finished jetting into Morgan's ass. Taking turns on top had at least evened the playing field, but Kisho acknowledged he liked Morgan in charge better than being in charge.

  “Oh, man,” Morgan breathed as he shook out the last few drops from his shaft and rubbed them over Kisho's belly. “I think we're okay now. I hope,” he muttered. “Is this normal for you guys?”

  “No. I don't know what the hell that was.” Kisho ran a hand through his hair and watched as Morgan slowly changed back to normal. As he did, Kisho changed with him, his beast finally sated. “For that matter, I don't know what the hell you are. You say you're not Circ, but you are.

  You call me kitsu, and I've seen you in my dreams for years.” And how it never ended well. “I need answers.”

  “I need answers, mate,” Morgan said with a smile.

  Kisho smiled back without meaning to. “Anyone ever tell you you're obnoxious?”

  “All the time.” Morgan lifted himself off Kisho and headed to the shower.

  Kisho joined him. They didn't speak as they cleaned up. But even the soap couldn't mask their combined scent.

  Morgan sighed and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. “Your scent goes straight to my head, you know?” He slicked back the water from his hair and stepped closer to Kisho.

  He stood taller and had broader shoulders. When he backed Kisho to the wall, Kisho stared into his eyes, aware of a deep sense of belonging that should have scared him. After all, Morgan featured in every one of his visions involving his own death. But he couldn't find the desire to move away.

  Morgan slowly leaned closer until they were a breath apart. “You ran, kitsu, but you couldn't hide. I came for you, and I finally have what's mine.” The words sounded familiar, but Kisho couldn't think because Morgan kissed him.

  Different from the other touches they'd shared, Morgan's mouth comforted, soothed, loved.

  Kisho didn't know how to handle the softness and tried to move away, but Morgan wouldn't let him.

  “Shh, it's okay. I just want to hold you.” Morgan gathered him in his arms, as if Kisho were precious, and just…held him.

  An odd, unnamed emotion caught in Kisho's chest.

  Morgan stroked his back and his hair and murmured words of praise and affection as he kissed his cheeks. “That's it. Ease into it, baby. Trust me. I have you.” The shields holding anything and everything at a distance began to dissolve as if they'd never existed. Kisho tried to remain firm, but he sagged in Morgan's arms. Before he knew it, he was leaning against the man. Unlike before, nothing sexual clouded their embrace. Only caring and a genuine warmth between Kisho and the man he feared he could seriously come to love.

  Morgan reached to turn off the shower. He grabbed a towel and dried off. Then he dried Kisho, who was too exhausted to move. Leading Kisho by the arm, Morgan brought him back to the bed and tucked him under the blankets.

  “I'm not a kid.”

  “Trust me, I know. I'd never do to a kid what you and
I did in this very bed,” Morgan chided. “Now let go. I have you, baby. Just sleep. You need it. I promise I'll keep you safe.”

  An odd choice of words, considering four tough-ass Circs, a psychic Mrs. Sharpe, and an ex-government agent/handyman guarded the house.

  But when Morgan donned a pair of sweatpants and slid in next to him, Kisho fell promptly asleep.

  A gray-brown owl flew overhead in a dark sky layered with moonlight. Under the owl along a path in the forest, a fox ran, the cool wind breezing through his thick fur like fingers. The fox yipped and played, and the owl spotted a second fox with him, one slightly larger and redder.

  The pair disappeared into the forest, and the owl narrowed in on a field mouse just ahead.

  Before he could swoop down on his prey, a hawk flew out of nowhere and intercepted his meal. The sky brightened, night turning to day in an instant. The owl vanished, and the hawk landed in the back garden of the Circ estate, where he dropped the mouse. It scurried away, hiding in the shadows of the building.

  Where the winter garden should have been, en exotic jungle of bright flowers and lush plants overwhelmed the rock-bordered bed. A feeling of peace and healing surrounded the hawk, and he gradually changed shape from bird to beast to man. Jules stood staring into a bright blue flower, his aura a visible glow around him.

  And then Captain William Delancey appeared and laughed. “I'll win in the end. You'll see.

  You can't keep me down, Hawkins. None of you can.” Fallon, Tersch, Olivia, and Kisho boxed the captain in, watching as he decayed where he stood, the blood leeching out of his body and falling into pools that contaminated the very ground.

  “Don't touch it!” Morgan shouted from behind Kisho.

  Everyone turned to see him fighting through a dark fog to reach Kisho. Jules yelled, but when Kisho looked back, Delancey and Jules had vanished. At the base of the blue flower sat a box. Kisho picked it up and looked through a small hole, where he saw Jules, impossibly small, lying still, caught in the dark.

  A roar sounded, the noise of mutants and rogue Circs surrounding them. As they changed into their beasts, Kisho realized Morgan was no longer anywhere to be seen. Frantic to find his mate, he tore through the forests, homing in on the mutants shrieking at something he couldn't see. The scent of blood filled the air, the coppery taste offensive as it shattered the peaceful existence of his garden.

  A garden that no longer brightened the house but crumbled with rot and a repugnant stench Kisho knew all too well. The smell of death, so close, so strong.

  “Kitsu! I need you!”

  Kisho bolted upright in bed and reined in the beast clawing to get out. A glance around showed him alone. The quiet in the room bothered him, and he hurried out of bed. After a quick shower to wipe away the sweat of his nightmare, he dressed and left his room in search of answers.

  He wanted to talk to Mrs. Sharpe about his dream that had been anything but normal. Not a vision, but nothing so simple as his subconscious easing into REM sleep either. So very strange.

  Kisho saw the future. Not interpretations of it, but the actual future. This dream had been more like a fantasy, a shaman's vision filled with portents and imagery he couldn't decipher.

  And Morgan, that crafty, sexy bastard, had avoided his questions once again. Incredible sex followed by such comfort, such utter tranquility. Kisho hadn't felt such care in years, not since his father had first found him decades ago. It had taken time and patience, but Master Chief Petty Officer Paul Leads had eventually taught his son to trust and believe in himself. Losing his father after joining the navy had hurt, but Kisho had his SEAL brothers to see him through, and then his Circ family to help him through the tough transition from man to beast.

  Morgan turned everything upside down.

  How the hell did he know to call me kitsu? Only Kisho's maternal grandmother had called him that, what felt like a lifetime ago. Before his grandfather had thrown him to the streets, she'd told Kisho that his mate would one day find him. She'd pressed the fox figurine into his hands, and with tears in her eyes, prayed that her kitsu would be safe.

  Morgan had the exact same figurine. A companion piece to the one Kisho held. And Morgan called him kitsu. No coincidence, not since Kisho had been dreaming about a man with haunting green eyes, a domineering sensuality, and knowledge of his nickname. For years he'd had visions of Morgan, but lately, they'd been all consuming.

  Kisho hadn't known if he'd been dreaming or not when Morgan had rescued him from Montaña's men three months ago. And he still wasn't sure how or if Morgan had healed him.

  Hell, I don't know how he healed himself from that bomb blast, or how he turned half-Circ either. Morgan's holding out on me.

  Surprisingly, Kisho's beast didn't much care. So much sex had mellowed the damned creature, forcing Kisho to rely on his human instincts.

  He stalked through the mansion and found Morgan in Mrs. Sharpe's office.

  She smiled when she saw him. “Good. Kisho, I was just going to send Morgan up to find you. I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other day.” Morgan turned and winked. “Hey, Kisho. You look much better.”

  “Yes, well rested.” Mrs. Sharpe glanced up as the others filed inside her study and sat.

  Jules, Tersch, Olivia, and Fallon soon filled the room, making the large study look small.

  “'Bout time,” Tersch muttered to Kisho. “Talk about lazing in bed. Damn, son. You put Fallon to shame.”

  Fallon scowled. “I'm not lazy. I'm married.”

  “Thanks,” Olivia said wryly. “Good to know I'm the reason for your sloth.”

  “We're all glad to see you looking better, Kisho,” Jules added. “And Morgan, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

  Morgan nodded. “Thanks. I feel better. Sorry for freaking you out when I healed. Had no idea what would happen, but I had to try.”

  “I wasn't 'freaked,' just a bit surprised.” Jules slid an irritated glance at Fallon, who slid lower in his seat, using Olivia to shield him.

  “Your buddy has a big mouth,” Fallon sent to Kisho. “I told Morgan not to say anything.” Kisho glared at Morgan, who conveniently turned back to Mrs. Sharpe.

  She shuffled a few folders then put them down on her desk and looked around the room.

  “I'm pleased you're all here. We need to discuss a few things. First, I—” Ava rushed into the room. “You were going to start without me?” From her rapid breathing, Kisho figured she'd run through the halls. She ignored Tersch and pulled up a chair next to Morgan.

  “I have a few questions of my own,” Jules growled, his attention on Morgan.

  Kisho leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Lover or no lover, Kisho wanted to hear what the hell Morgan was hiding.

  “You might as well tell them all at once,” Mrs. Sharpe suggested. “I've noticed a tendency in Circs to become slightly more agitated when in a small, enclosed space. Elevated aggression.” Morgan nodded. “Yeah, that's what Doc said.”

  “Reynolds,” Tersch warned. “Jules asked you a question.” Kisho wasn't going to interfere. Or so he told himself. But he stepped closer to Morgan, ready to intercede if Tersch tried to take him to the ground.

  Morgan stood and joined Kisho against the wall to face everyone. “Go ahead and ask your questions.”

  “What are you?” Kisho asked first.

  Morgan looked at him, really looked at him, and answered, “I'm a man. Not a Circ, not some war machine sent by the government to spy on you, or a mercenary hired by Montaña to kill you. So let's put that to bed right now. I'm psychic. That's got to be obvious by now.” He glanced across the room. “Even to you, Frederik.”

  Tersch tried to leap from his chair, but Jules's quick grab kept him seated.

  Jules growled, “Without all the obnoxious commentary, Morgan. Just spit it out. You're psychic. When you spontaneously healed right in front of me, I figured you weren't your average mercenary. So what's your deal?”
<
br />   “I was born this way.”

  “You were born a moron?” Ava asked with a snicker.

  Morgan frowned at her before continuing, “My family has a long history of psychic ability. A lot like you Circs.”

  “That's true,” Mrs. Sharpe agreed. “The natural instinct all humans have for self-preservation is exaggerated with the Circe serum. Intuition has been argued for years to be a kind of psychic phenomena.”

  Morgan nodded. “Right. But seeing the future, reading auras, emotions, and minds isn't normal, even for Circs. The guys up North don't do any of that. They turn into beasts and fight bad guys. Period.”

  “That's true,” Olivia said, thoughtful. She turned to Fallon, defensive. “Well, he's right. Even for Circs, you guys aren't exactly normal.”

  “Not 'you guys.' Us. That's you too, honey. Mate.”

  “So what, exactly, do you do?” Tersch asked. “You healed yourself, but it took Kisho, Mrs. Sharpe, and Ava to feed you the energy. You some kind of vampire or what?” All eyes shifted to Morgan.

  “I deal with energy in weird ways. I don't know how exactly to describe it.” Morgan ran a hand through his hair, and Kisho tried very hard not to stare at the bunch of muscle in his arms and chest under his body-hugging T-shirt. “I don't get hurt. If I do, I heal right away. I don't consciously do it; at least, I hadn't until two days ago. I normally just absorb the energy around me and use it, the way you breathe. It's an unconscious response to need.”

  “You're half-Circ,” Kisho accused, wanting Morgan to stop screwing around and tell the team.

  “Actually, I'm not.” Morgan sounded apologetic. “I'm different, yeah. But I've never had the Circe serum, and my family was never exposed to it. We're just a different breed of people, I guess you could say.”