Damage Report

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Yeah, I figured that out at the thirty thousand feet mark,” said Weston, harshly. He cracked his knuckles, wanting very much to hit Casey. In fact, the next time he laid eyes on the prick he’d show him just how great the plane ride had been. Had Weston known exactly what he’d been signing up for when he’d agreed to take the two stooges with him, he’d have driven cross-country. Instead, he’d had to hogtie a man mid-flight and nearly shackle the other as well. Probably why Casey neglected to mention Gus’s flying skills, or lack thereof.

  “Is Gus still breathing?” asked Casey, concern in his voice.

  “By sheer luck, brother,” returned Weston, the tension in his body keeping the bear in him on edge. The bear wasn’t much on flying, either. Went against the natural order of things. “And you forgot to tell me how much Bill loves to fly. And I fucking mean he loves it.”

  “Oh no,” breathed Casey, following it with a clicking of his tongue. “Dare I ask?”

  Weston sighed, feeling like he’d just spent the last few hours herding cats. Hell, cats would have been easier. In truth, he’d simply been trying to keep Gus and Bill from bringing down the private plane they’d been on. One screamed like a bloody fool and the other was simply insane. “You’re damn lucky the guy I chartered the flight with owed me. Bill would have gotten us arrested if we’d dared to fly commercial. He demanded he be allowed to help pilot the thing, and then wanted us all to make a break for it. To fly to the sun. To get out before the man and his brainwashed minions could try to stop us. Then he thought for sure he saw the President of the United States sitting on our right wing, winking at him. I think he may have been tripping.”

  “I forgot to check him for LSD before you left,” said Casey. “Sorry. Harmony wasn’t happy when she realized I let them go off with you all alone. Laney is pissed with me too. She seems to think you’ll eat them both.”

  “I might.” He’d considered it more than once. Though they were starting to grow on him, not that he’d tell Casey.

  “Weston, it would be a big favor to me if you didn’t,” said Casey. “They’re kind of like family at this point.”

  “I know. Which is why they’re both still alive.” Weston glanced over to see Bill chatting it up with another pilot. “Listen, I gotta go. Bill is now trying to talk himself onto a large jetliner. Shit, I think he’s offering the guy weed. Where is he hiding all the drugs?”

  “You may want to do an anal cavity search,” said Casey with a laugh that stopped quickly. “And, no, I’m not kidding.”

  “Asshole.” He hung up and rushed over in Bill’s direction. The man had on an old-fashioned flight cap and huge goggles. He’d arrived at the airport before they left wearing them. No amount of pleading had gotten him out of them. Weston just hoped he didn’t keep them on for good.

  Bill put his arms out wide and began to run around the tarmac near another pilot. Much to the other pilot’s credit, he didn’t comment on Bill’s antics. Gus stood perfectly still as Bill made loops around him. Bill stopped and stared at his buddy. He then glanced over at Weston. “Gus is mad at you for making him fly. He wanted a window seat.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Weston did his best to avoid losing his temper and shifting right there for all to see. Gus and Bill were going to make him a master of self-control by the end of the journey. He was sure of it. That, or he’d really eat them. Either was possible.

  He grabbed Bill, pulling him closer to him and away from the other pilot. The man tipped his hat. “Interesting friends you have there.”

  Weston pressed a smile to his face and nodded. “They’re something all right. Sorry if they bothered you. We’ll be on our way now.”

  “Can I drive?” Bill shoved something into Weston’s front jacket pocket. “Here. You hide these in case the feds show up.”

  Groaning, Weston pulled another bag of weed from Bill’s jacket and growled as he grabbed Gus with the same hand he had the bag of pot in. “Come on.”

  Gus started to yell and swat at Weston.

  Bill shook his head. “He doesn’t like being touched.”

  “Would he rather be tied up and gagged?” Weston had very little patience for Gus’s behavior.

  Bill’s expression grew somber. “You’re mean, like the black-eyed one. The meanie mc-meanie.”

  Weston had heard Bill calling Duke Marlow, a Paranormal Security and Intelligence Agent, the name more than once. “Yeah, I make Duke look like a fucking ball of sunshine. Now let’s go.”

  “Fine, but I’ll get Gus. Not you, Grumpy Bear.” Bill stopped and put his thumbs in his ears and waved his hands, sticking out his tongue as he did. “Grumpy Bear. Grumpy Bear.”

  “I’m going to flush your goods,” warned Weston.

  Bill snapped his mouth shut and reached for Gus. “Come on, Gus. We have to be nice so I can get the good shit back. You understand, right?”

  Weston continued to growl as he followed behind the two. He had to stop and grab their bags, though he did consider leaving them. Bill probably only packed drugs anyway. Weston spotted another of his contacts as they stepped out of a SUV near the side of a small hanger. It had been years since he’d last seen Bane Antonov. They’d spoken on the phone and had sent cryptic messages back and forth for the last few decades, but Weston hadn’t had eyes on Bane since before they all broke out of the secret government holding facility.

  Bane’s black hair was long now. Much longer than Weston remembered it being. Gone was the high and tight they’d both sported for a time when they served together. Their baby faces were a thing of the past too. Bane had a decent amount of facial hair, something else he’d not had last time they’d seen one another. Emotions Weston didn’t want to focus on surfaced. This was a man who had shared a similar experience with him. As had Casey. They knew what it was like to be chosen. To be told you were special, fall for lies and empty promises, and then be discarded like trash when things didn’t go as planned. They knew what it was like to be hunted by the very people who made the empty promises. The people they’d dedicated their lives to, entrusting they would be made into assets for their country. Not ticking time-bombs.

  They were Outcasts. Men who weren’t considered stable investments. Men who were flawed somehow in the eyes of their creators. And Weston was certainly flawed.

  Weston grunted at Bill as the man glanced back at him. Bill kept Gus walking forward, in Bane’s direction. As they grew nearer, Bane glanced down from what looked like an imposing height when compared to Bill and Gus, though he was at eye level with Weston. “They don’t look very elite.”

  Weston snorted, missing Bane’s sense of humor. “Ah, they’re the cream of the crop.”

  Bill beamed with pride as he put an arm around Gus—who didn’t seem to mind Bill touching him in the least. “We are.”

  Bane glanced over Bill’s head at Weston. “Been a long time, brother.”

  “It has,” said Weston, remaining in place. He wasn’t much of a hugger. Bane wasn’t, either.

  Bill looked between the men. “You’re brothers?”

  “Served together,” said Weston, knowing Bill would understand, as he’d served too.

  Bill nodded. “Most of the guys I served with are dead now. They were part of the government’s testing too.”

  Bane cast Weston a questioning look. Weston tapped into a mental path shared by those like him. LSD testing, back in Vietnam. This here is the famous Wild Bill.

  Bane glanced back at Bill. The mechanical elephant rider?

  One and the same. DARPA had tried to place mechanical elephants in the jungles of Vietnam in hopes it would help the fight. It didn’t. They were a hot mess. And Bill had been brave enough to scale up one and ride it like a bucking bronco. When Casey had told him the story, Weston had found it amusing and he could totally picture the crazy little guy doing it. He could bet Bill gave the government a run for their money. Part of Weston felt bad for Bill and Gus. After all, they too were victims of the government.

&nbs
p; What about the other one? Bane moved his attention to Gus. He okay?

  I can hear you both, said Gus on their same mental pathway, and from the look on Bane’s face, surprising the shit out of him.

  Bane’s lips drew into a thin line. Interesting.

  “You have a place set up for us?” asked Weston, no longer bothering with the mental pathway.

  Bane nodded. “We should get a move-on. Shit has been heating up around here lately.”

  “I heard about the attack at the docks. Ever figure out what caused all the carnage?” Weston was uneasy about being in the area at all. He had a long-standing history of losing control. He didn’t need anyone else giving his shifter side any more ideas.

  “No. From my understanding, the I-Ops and PSI don’t know, either,” replied Bane. It didn’t surprise Weston that Bane knew what was going on at each branch, despite being thought dead for the longest time by both. Weston knew better. He’d known Bane was alive the entire time. They’d escaped together. “Though word in the paranormal underground is it’s one of us.”

  “An Outcast?” questioned Weston. It made sense. Most of the Outcasts were either created by scientists using straight animal DNA, or such huge quantities of existing supernatural DNA, that it had all gotten away from them in the end, making monsters instead of heroes.

  “You hear anything on your end?” asked Bane.

  Weston shook his head. “Just that whatever has been going on is bad. And that it left one of the I-Ops yanking his mate out of here and making her close her business.”

  Bane paused as they headed in the direction of a large SUV. Bill and Gus stayed close. That was good. Weston didn’t want to tell Casey he lost them. Bane cleared his throat. “That wouldn’t have happened to have been a brothel for the supernatural, would it?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  “It was a happening place,” said Bane, looking far off in thought for a minute. “A good place to go to get your needs met by women you knew you wouldn’t accidentally kill during sex.”

  Weston’s throat tightened as he thought about Bane’s past. The man had lost control during sex, and the woman he’d been with had paid the price. It hadn’t been his fault. The damn scientists had forced the sex act to occur, wanting to study the effects of a mating. They had wanted to see what one of their prized were-gorillas would do and how difficult it might be to create one naturally through birth. They had no clue that they’d just sent a human woman to her death or that what they’d done would forever scar their creation—Bane.

  Bane hated what they’d made him. Hated that he’d come out the other side a were-gorilla. A lot of the men in their group were more than your garden-variety shifter. The scientists back then had been going through a strange phase of wanting to try out new possible shifter types. Some Outcasts were able to shift into birds, marine life, polar bears, and alligators—hell, just about anything one could think of. And all of them were screwed up because of it.

  Damn scientists.

  Bane straightened his shoulders. “The place just reopened around a week ago. Word on the street is it’s under new ownership. Still caters to supernaturals.”

  “You going to try it out?” Weston wondered where Bane was going with this.

  His friend shrugged. “Maybe. It’s getting close to that time for me.”

  Weston knew what time that was. He was teetering on the edge of it himself. If he didn’t shift and have sex soon, didn’t matter the order, it would get ugly and fast. Bane had even less control. Weston motioned to Bill and Gus for them to get into the SUV. They did.

  He then turned his attention to Bane. “Listen, Gus, the weird one who can talk on our mental path, says I need to be here. That my mate is in danger.”

  Bane’s eyes widened. “You didn’t mention that in your call.”

  With good reason. Weston wasn’t about to sound the alarms when he wasn’t sure he even had anything to actually sound them over. It was big enough that he’d called in a favor from Bane, pulling Bane out of hiding. “Because I don’t have a mate.”

  Bane tipped his head. “I’m not following.”

  “Gus seems to think I do and that she’s in danger. Casey believes him,” said Weston, setting down a bag.

  “Do you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “But?” Bane lifted the bag. “What are you leaving out?”

  “My head is a mess.”

  Bane stiffened. “The dreams back?”

  “Dreams never left,” answered Weston honestly.

  “I’m sorry, brother. I am.”

  Weston shrugged. “It is what it is. I can’t do anything to change it. Though lately my signals are getting crossed or something. I’m not getting clear pictures or feelings. My dreams are pretty much a hot mess.”

  “They hinting at a mate?” asked Bane, hope in his dark gaze.

  Weston sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t shifted in forever and a fucking day and I need to get laid.” Weston cracked his knuckles. “Bad.”

  “Let’s get these two to the safe house and we can swing by the club,” said Bane, loading the bag into the back of the SUV. “The new owners are supernatural and so are the workers—that’s all I know so far. We’ll get our rocks off and then be able to focus on this mate thing.”

  “And if the nut job is right?” asked Weston, his gut tight. “How do I explain to my mate when I meet her that I didn’t come right away to help her because I was too busy making a paid bootie call?”

  Bane exhaled slowly and then cast him a hard look. “You can’t explain jack crap to her if you meet her, lose control and rip her head off because you denied your beast side and the alpha side of you too long. Hard to state your case to a dead person.”

  “Fair point.” Weston exhaled, understanding Bane’s words were correct. In his current state of mind, Weston wouldn’t be any good to anyone. Dealing with Bill and Gus had left him even more on edge. He was hanging by a thread. He wouldn’t be worth a damn right now. Not until he shifted and did something about putting too long between sexual releases. Unfortunately, he’d waited too long that jerking off just wouldn’t be enough now. He made a mental note to buy more girlie mags to prevent the same thing from happening in the future. “Better to beg forgiveness?”

  “Than ask permission,” finished Bane, shutting the back of the SUV. Bane stood there a moment and then surprised Weston by grabbing him and giving him a manly hug.

  Weston returned it and Bane released him.

  “Enough, or people will think we’re a couple or something,” said Bane with a shaky laugh. Both men were fighting their emotions. They’d been through a lot together.

  “You’re not my type,” said Weston with a cock-sure smile. “I like blondes.”

  Bill leaned his head out of the backseat window. “Are you two coming or are you gonna make out? We want ice cream. Ooh, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Stat.”

  Weston had to temper his breathing for fear he really would kill the little guy. “It takes all of me not to rip his head off.”

  Bane laughed again. “Nah. He’s not that bad.”

  “The Bane I remember would have already killed him,” said Weston.

  Bane shrugged. “Spent some time with monks. Did wonders for my self-restraint. Also, I get really bad heartburn off guys full of drugs, and that little man smells like a walking weed plant.”

  Chapter Three

  Paisley Addiks did her best to fade away into the shadows of the smoky sex club. This wasn’t her first time visiting the establishment. She’d been something of a regular there up until a few weeks ago. Everything had changed since then. Gone was the safe feeling that had once blanketed the place. Now a sinister note hung in the air, as if warning the occupants that anything could and probably would happen.

  No matter how ominous the atmosphere was, Paisley didn’t have a choice. She had to be there. She needed to refuel herself with the sexual energy that radiated from e
very corner of the place and she needed a lead on her missing friend.

  She’d been trying for weeks to gain entrance to the club. Once she’d been able to walk in with ease, but that was another thing that had changed recently. From what she’d been able to gather so far, one hell of a fight had broken out at the club and then the previous owner left town. Not long after, the employees all left as well, leaving the club boarded over. But that hadn’t lasted long. Someone new was running the show now and they were as bad as bad came.

  People on the street had warned Paisley to stay away. To just forget about her missing friend and find other ways to sate the hunger she seemed to always carry. She knew she should heed the warnings, but she had to know what happened to her friend. She just couldn’t walk away from the area without finding out the truth.

  She didn’t want to be noticed by the smarmy men frequenting the establishment. Or the women who seemed too happy to be surrounded by them. There were a few men there who were servicing women. Not as many men as women, though. The men employed there wore the smallest of covers for their man bits, while showing off the rest of their bodies in all their naked glory—backside included.

  Instead of turning her on, as she suspected was their purpose, she just sort of turned her nose up at them. They weren’t her type, whatever her type was.

  “Get through tonight and then you can figure out a new game plan,” she said softly to herself, continuing in the direction of one of the hallways. She just needed to recharge her batteries, so to speak. To soak in the essence of sex that filled the place. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was, only that she was more than human, and that more than human side of herself left her craving sexual energy, but so far, never craving the act itself. Maybe she was broken. She wasn’t sure. She didn’t care.

  The club had always worked to satisfy her cravings, until very recently. Now she never seemed full. The place was a high end, underground sex club. There was no better way to describe it. To the outside world, it was simply a private club that catered to the elite. No one questioned what went on behind closed doors. Paisley did. Her friend had gone missing while working there and Paisley intended to find out where Galiena, or Gale as she was known around the clubs, was. Where everyone was and who the hell these new people all were, because they certainly weren’t the people who ran and operated the club.