Broken Communication

by Mandy M. Roth

  Somewhere in it all was a clue to who had his woman.

  His Harmony.

  Casey’s jaw tightened and he clenched his fists, his emotions teetering on the edge of going overboard into the dark area. The area he had found it harder and harder to come back from over his long life.

  “Where are you?” he asked, his gaze on several photos of men in suits, looking as if they were heading to a high-end fundraiser rather than to a hit.

  Casey came by his information in ways most would frown upon. Though he did have connections who supplied him with some, it wasn’t as if his connections were necessarily legit or on the level. He didn’t give a shit about laws. In the same way the government didn’t give a shit about him. To them, he’d been expendable, something they could play with, try to mold into a super soldier before discarding. And they’d done just that. They’d used him, manipulated his genetic make-up, and then when he didn’t yield their desired results, they tucked him away in what could only be called a loony bin before deciding to pull the plug on the misfits.

  The defects.

  Unlike most of the other first attempts at creating a super soldier, Casey lived, but he wasn’t perfect. His group—the test subjects created from straight animal DNA rather than any shifter, but with other strange mixes added in to what one of the men had called a cocktail—tended to mentally break. He personally knew of three who had gone on killing sprees. And they hadn’t just killed, they’d slaughtered everything and everyone around them. Rumor had it another was doing something similar in Seattle.

  Casey lived in fear of doing that himself. Over his long life he’d learned to control his shifts much better than he first had. During the testing stages, he’d actually gotten stuck in a partial shift, looking like a half-man, half-beast for months. And that would never do. The men in charge wanted soldiers who could blend and appear fully human. They didn’t want a guy who looked like what he was—a werewolf.

  Thankfully, Casey had been able to get himself to shift back to human, but it hadn’t been easy. The doctors weren’t happy with how much work he had to put into it all and considered him a failure. Though, they’d attempted putting him in the field once he’d learned to shift back and forth with relative ease. That was about the same time several of the men who had gone through testing with him in the beginning snapped and went berserk. All of the men in Casey’s testing group were recalled and labeled defective.

  “Rejects,” he said with a snort, remembering what one of his teammates had called them all. The official on-paper term was Outcasts of the Immortal Ops Division. Then again, those official terms never saw the light of day and they certainly never saw the public. Humans had no clue what went on around them. They’d wet themselves. They were weak and his kind was strong.

  My kind, he mused.

  Hardly.

  He wasn’t one of the Immortal Ops. Not anymore. He wasn’t perfect enough for the people in charge. He was a broken model, one past the point of repair or service. A fucking liability. He shook his head, running his hands through his shaggy, long, black hair. There had been a time when he’d only worn his hair close cut. High and tight. Those days were past.

  Casey scratched at his beard, thinking more about his woman. Though, calling her his woman was a bit of a stretch. She hated him. Pretty much thought he was a homeless bum. He couldn’t blame her. That was the image he put out for the world around him. It was better that way. Kept the enemy off his trail and scent.

  His gaze went to a tattered American flag he’d kept with him all these years. It served as a reminder of what he’d once believed in with all his heart, and the government that turned its back on him and his kind. On his men.

  Thinking of his men ripped at his gut. But returning to that mindset wouldn’t help him locate Harmony or who had taken her. And finding her was paramount. He’d venture so far as to say it was an obsession.

  She had been missing a week. He didn’t want to think about the fact she might very well be dead. She couldn’t be. He’d only recently figured out his pull to her and why it was he’d been blind to see it. He couldn’t lose her. She might hate him and think him scum, but the Fates thought they’d work together.

  His pulse sped and he tried to calm himself. The thought of Harmony being hurt or dead assailed him from all angles. With a growl, he spun. The tips of his fingers burned and he hissed as claws sprang from them, his emotions out of check at the thought of harm befalling Harmony.

  The pampered princess meant something to him. Something, up until now, he hadn’t admitted even to himself. He didn’t need to say the words out loud to know them to be true. She had been created for him and he’d allowed harm to befall her. He’d failed her in a way a mate never should.

  He snarled, the beast side of him threatening to seize hold and control all his actions. If one hair on her blonde head was out of place, Casey would bring down anyone and anything involved. He’d let his beast free and they’d all fucking learn what happened when someone messed with what was his.

  And she was most certainly his.

  He growled, his teeth starting to change as well. The scents of the forest around the safe house grew as he lost himself more and more to the beast. He hated his lack of control. Hated what he’d been turned into.

  A monster.

  A defective operative.

  With a deep calming breath, he gathered hold of himself. He needed fresh eyes on the material he’d collected. Needed to clear his head and look at it again. There was a clue there, a lead to where Harmony could be and who might have taken her—he was just too close to it all to see it. He’d questioned the scientist he’d assumed was behind her capture, but in the end the bastard, while sick and twisted, had not had a hand in Harmony’s disappearance.

  “Where are you, Princess?” he asked, his throat tight with emotions as he tried to will her to hear him. To sense his distress and his need to find her. Something tugged at his gut, demanding he turn his focus to the side, where he had a series of printouts of assets and holdings associated with the Corporation and those who operated under its umbrella.

  The overwhelming urge to rip a sheet from his wall of findings was great. He’d been alive too long and seen far too much to ignore the inborn need he felt. He yanked the paper off the wall and held it closer, scanning what was on it. When he reached the line about an old factory not even thirty miles from his current location, a strange knowing settled over him.

  “Thatta girl, Princess,” he whispered, knowing that he was indeed feeling the call of his mate.

  Casey stopped and tipped his head, his sensitive hearing picking up on the sound of movement outside the safe house. No one should be anywhere near the place. On full alert, he made his way out of the bedroom, down the stairs and to one of the front windows, where he peeked out to get visual. He expected to see the enemy. What he spotted instead were two people he hadn’t in the least counted on arriving. In fact, he’d written them off as being tucked away safe and sound.

  Gus and Bill.

  Sighing, Casey went to the front door and tossed it open, his ire rising at the sight of the two men there, each looking disheveled. They were both human, and each had been subjected to government testing in some form or fashion.

  Neither was left anything close to normal.

  Bill smiled, a crooked tooth showing as he removed his knitted cap and held it in his hands before him. His hair went in all directions, looking as crazy as he was. He nudged Gus who, as usual, was silent and staring off in the other direction as if he wasn’t even cognizant of where he was or what he was doing. Casey knew better. Gus was acutely aware of everything around him and often shit that wasn’t even close to him.

  “Told ya we’d find him,” said Bill, nodding, looking incredibly proud of himself. He whistled a quick tune and then raised his forefingers, wagging them back and forth. “Ain’t nothing that can stop us.”

  Casey grunted, his beast so close to breaking free. He cared deeply for the
men. They were like family to him and he wanted them far from danger. And right at the moment, Casey was a magnet for all bad shit. He didn’t want that blowing back on his friends. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He wasn’t shocked they could find him. If anyone could, it was Gus. His gifts were something Casey had yet to fully understand.

  Bill pushed past him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Gus followed, neither man seeming too concerned with Casey’s anger at the moment. They never seemed to worry he’d shift into an uncontrolled state and go on a killing rampage. They never seemed to worry he’d harm anyone outside of those who deserved it.

  They were supposed to be in the care of PSI. Casey looked around from his spot in the doorway, out into the distance, but saw no signs of anyone else. The only vehicle near the safe house was one of his. “Wait, you’re here alone?”

  Bill tapped his shoulder and Casey turned to face the small, aging man who always seemed full of energy and life. Also, full of crazy ramblings, but one got used to it the longer they were around Bill. The LSD testing he’d been subjected to during his time serving in the Vietnam War certainly had done a number on him.

  “I’m hungry,” said Bill in a sing-song manner. “Do you have anything to eat? Gus wants a grilled cheese sandwich, don’t ya, Gus? I voted for peanut butter and jelly, but there is just no dealing with Gus when he gets his mind set on something.

  Gus looked at the ceiling and rocked in place. He kept an arm pulled up to his chest, his gaze never venturing in Casey’s or Bill’s direction. But Casey knew the man understood what was happening. Somehow, Bill managed to speak Gus’s unspoken language. They were the best of friends.

  Bill continued to smile, and it was a smile that said Bill knew he’d done wrong in some manner. Hell, the man lived to break the rules.

  Casey groaned and shut the front door. “I will ask again, what are you doing here?”

  Bill arched a bushy brow. “I already told you. We’re here to help.”

  “With?”

  “Rescuing the princess,” stated Bill boldly. His shoulders puffed, and the sight of him nearly made Casey laugh. “Gus and I are gonna get her from the evil boss who has her. Let’s level-up and get this show on the road.”

  It took Casey a moment to follow. His small friend had a love of video games that often bled into the man’s reality. Casey nodded and touched Bill’s shoulder. “I think I know where the princess is. How about I go get her while you two see if there is anything here to eat?”

  Bill shook his head back and forth in an exaggerated motion. “No can do. We’re here to save the princess. It’s our mission.”

  True, pushed Gus into Casey’s mind. Gus’s telepathic abilities were off the charts. Whatever the government had done to the guy had left him being able to communicate mentally with anyone he pleased. He could do so from great distances, too. Shifters and vampires could do something similar, but it normally took work and practice. From what Casey could gather on Gus, Gus had been born with the gift—the government simply took that gift and ramped it up to eleven.

  Casey sighed. “Guys, I think I know where she is and it’s too dangerous. I need to go now. This can’t wait for me to get you back to Duke and Corbin at PSI.”

  Bill whistled again and this time he stared at the ceiling, looking very guilty. Casey groaned. “What did you two do?”

  “Nothing.” Bill shrugged.

  “Bill,” stressed Casey.

  Bill glanced at him nervously. “The mean one was watching us again.”

  Casey knew Bill meant Duke, who was not mean, just gruff. “And?”

  “And we slipped him some of the good stuff and made a break for it,” replied Bill with slight pride in his voice. He touched his front jacket pocket. “Want some?”

  Casey pinched the bridge of his nose. “You drugged a PSI operative?”

  Bill nodded.

  Duke was going to be pissed.

  “How did you get here? There are no bus lines that run out this far,” said Casey matter-of-factly.

  Gus turned around, putting his back to Casey. Never a good sign as to what the two of the men had been up to. Bill bit his lower lip and then shrugged. “We borrowed Lola.”

  “Lola?”

  “The mean one’s car,” responded Bill.

  “There is no car out front.” Casey tried to remain calm with the men, but it was difficult. They meant well. They always did.

  Bill did a quick version of what always reminded Casey of the hand clapping games young children would play on playgrounds with one another, and then put his hat back on. “Because Lola decided she wanted to hug a telephone pole a few miles down the road.”

  As Casey registered what Bill was telling him, he stepped closer to the men, looking them over for any signs of injury. He found none. “Are either of you harmed?”

  Bill snorted. “I rode a mechanical elephant in Nam. A sport car meeting up with a telephone pole is nothing. Let’s go rescue the princess.”

  It was true. Bill had been privy to DARPA’s attempts at incorporating mechanical elephants into the Vietnam War. The plan had been a failure of epic proportions and had finally been scrapped, but not before Bill had managed to scale up one of the elephants the guys in charge had lost control of, and ride the thing much like it was a bucking bronco. History, at least in the supernatural community, had labeled the man Wild Bill of Nam and Bill wore the nickname with great pride.

  Casey was about to protest the notion of Bill and Gus going with him to find Harmony when Gus’s voice pushed into his mind.

  You require our assistance. I know for certain where they hold the princess. You have but a hunch. Time is a factor, Casey. Do you want to trust your gut or mine? Gus never moved from his spot. And I will not help unless we are able to accompany you.

  “Shit,” said Casey with a grunt, pissed the guy was so stubborn. Bill was just as bad, if not worse than Gus. Factor in Bill’s penchant for finding trouble, and they were sure to run into problems. “You two are pains in my ass.”

  “I know, right?” Bill smiled wider. “Let’s roll. Uh, you’re gonna need to drive us. Can we get a grilled cheese sandwich on the way? Rescuing people makes us hungry.”

  There had been a time in his life when he went into a mission with the best of the best. The elite. Now he was taking a man who was more than likely tripping on LSD at that very moment, and another who was brilliant but silent and beyond socially awkward.

  Oh, how things had changed.

  Chapter Four

  “Stupid bars,” she muttered as she tried yet again to get them to budge with absolutely no play. Her magik still refused to cooperate. With a grunt, Harmony stopped tugging at the cell bars. It was useless. She wasn’t breaking free with sheer brute strength, as she didn’t really have any. Still, the drive to get free was strong, so she tried one more time for good measure. One of her nails broke, and she hissed, bringing her hand up and surveying the damage.

  “Next time I’m sacrificing the shoes regardless how much I love them,” she said, partially under her breath.

  Her new roommate snorted from his side of the large room. She froze. Beast Dude had a sense of humor? Several seemingly long minutes ticked by before Harmony glanced in the man’s direction. “Are you okay? I saw them bring you in, and you looked pretty out of it.”

  No response came.

  She rolled her eyes. “Great, I’m bunking with Mr. Personality. I bet you write greeting cards when you’re not being held captive by two dirtbags.”

  He laughed.

  She smiled.

  “Are you all right?” the chained man countered, still sounding normal from his out-of-view position.

  She paused and glanced over in his direction. “I broke a nail. That should count for extreme duress, right?”

  “I will alert the media,” he returned coolly. “I’ll also see if I can get damaging a pedicure added to the ongoing list of what constitutes torture.”

  “Yo
u mean manicure,” she corrected.

  “Well, of course. How could I confuse the two? Just had mine yesterday.”

  There had been nothing to laugh about since she’d been taken, and she found the change welcome. She laughed and then her body shook as the tension and reality of her situation sank in. Tears welled, and she was unable to stop them from falling. “We’re never getting out of here, are we?”

  Movement from the man’s area caught her attention, and she caught sight of his shackled wrists again. One moment he was chained and the next, the shackles holding him in place broke away as if they were nothing more than tissue paper. Sucking in a big breath, Harmony watched in stunned surprise as a man who rivaled Casey in height and build stepped out from behind the partial wall. The man’s dark-brown hair was long, wavy and hung just past his shoulders. His blue gaze seemed haunted at first but then suddenly full of mirth. He grinned.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” he said with a wink.

  She gasped. “You broke the chains like they were child’s toys.”

  Casting an amused glance over his shoulder, he shrugged. “What? Those? Please. They were nothing. I’ve been restrained by worse.”

  The humor faded from his eyes for an instant, and she knew his inner demons must run deep. She glanced at the bars between them. “Any chance you can break these that easily? Also, if you do, Hulk, can you possibly not eat me?”

  His laugh was rich and deep. “I’ll do my best. Though I’m feeling a bit peckish since skipping breakfast and all.”

  She paled.

  He laughed more. “Take it easy, Harmony, I won’t eat you.”

  Backing up fast, she nearly tripped as she put distance between herself and the man on the other side of the bars. “How do you know my name?”

  He put his hands up, his dark-gray T-shirt pulling at his muscular chest, showing off a build that made her wonder how he’d been restrained at all. Again, Casey came to mind and she found her tears had returned. Never one to enjoy showing weakness in front of others, she wiped her cheeks.