by Marie Harte
Alex let his claws lengthen and watched Eli’s movements, letting his beast merge more fully with his human side to maximize his speed and efficiency.
Unlike the original Circs created by the government to be supersoldiers, Alex and his team were jokingly referred to as the 2.0 version. They didn’t turn into beasts with darker skin and grow taller, more muscular. They didn’t resemble monsters when changed either.
No, the team looked human all the time. Their skin automatically hardened into near-impenetrable armor when in danger, or when they called it to. Their coloring stayed the same in either state. Their claws and fangs were retractable. With the exception of their slit pupils—which came and went with Alex—they appeared more buff than the normal human.
The serum had made most of them larger during the first injections. Alex had already been six foot three, and though he hadn’t grown taller he had tacked on more muscle mass. Bailey remained a few inches under six feet, but she claimed she’d gotten toned and thick, long hair because of the serum. In any case, he’d seen her fight, and the woman kicked serious ass.
“Quit daydreaming, princess. Fight.” Eli snapped a kick to Alex’s face that made contact.
Damn, it hurt. But it also quickened his blood, and he fought in earnest. Punch for punch, blow for blow.
By the time he and Eli finished, blood spattered the mat and Carter stood on the sidelines offering constructive criticism.
Eli, as usual, had won, but not by as much this time.
“Good.” Eli nodded and retracted his claws and fangs. The small bit of poison he’d shot into Alex’s bloodstream burned as Alex sweated it out. “Gotcha though. You need to pull back more, feint one way or the other, then move in for the kill. And you have to quit fighting angry. Fight cold; don’t care. Don’t let the rage lead you into making a mistake.”
“Yeah, listen to the angry one,” Carter said, his smile broad. “He’s a dick most of the time, but he’s stone cold in the ring. Almost beat me more than a time or two on the circuit.”
Eli turned to Carter, who dwarfed him in height. Carter had to stand a good six and a half feet tall. With his dark blond hair, blue eyes, and an easy-going grin, he looked like a giant surfer. Until you realized that grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. He and Eli acted like brothers, arguing more than Alex and Katie ever had.
At thoughts of his sister, Alex decided to head to his room upstairs and decompress. The physical activity had leeched him of his aggression but left too much room for thinking.
Carter latched onto him before he could step away. “Okay, you two, time to eat. We can argue in the kitchen as well as we can here.”
“You’re cooking,” Eli said.
Carter frowned. “It’s Bailey’s turn.”
Eli looked as if he might argue, then decided against it. “Okay, I like her pancakes. I’m thinking breakfast for dinner.”
“Good plan.”
Alex sighed and let them sweep him toward the kitchen, where they found Bailey making out with Gideon.
“Get the hose,” Carter teased. “Shocker, Bailey’s seducing Gideon again.”
She blushed, as usual. “Oh stop.” Then her eyes narrowed on the group, and Alex felt his grief lessen.
He really wished she’d stop doing that. Her empathic abilities continued to grow, and he wasn’t sure if she realized how often she employed them to keep the team stable.
Gideon must have felt it though, because he gave Alex a commiserating shrug.
Alex let it go. For now. Because he really was hungry. “I’m not doing dishes,” he said flat out.
Eli immediately turned to Carter, and another argument started, one that now involved Gideon, who always seemed to be somewhere else when dirty dishes were involved. They needed to find some domestic help.
Bailey glared at him. “You did this.”
He felt a tiny bit better having annoyed her. “Me?” Then he hopped onto the kitchen island and started snacking on the peanut butter cookies that so addicted Bailey they went through two bags a week.
Her glare faded as her beast shone through her eyes, fixated on the bag. She, like Alex, looked human most of the time. Whereas the others had to hide their eyes with contacts, Bailey and Alex often passed as normal without them. “You’re such a bad influence.” She sighed and gobbled up three cookies before he got to one.
He smiled, amused and feeling better without her help. “I try.”
Chapter Three
DR. EDWIN LANG stared at the girl in front of him and made more notes. He wasn’t terribly impressed with the progress the Level 4 subjects had made, but at least some of them looked to be viable.
In the two months since their evacuation from the Portland facility, he’d spent the majority of his time adjusting to their new environment, making the lab his own. Duane, his assistant, continued to improve their surroundings. The few mutants they’d managed to take with them needed constant care, as well as hefty security.
Duane and the new Circ security had spent the majority of their time making sure no one else escaped. A few casualties had already resulted, and Edwin needed all his medical staff on hand for more important tasks. Like fixing his prime group of Circs.
He shook his head, wondering if he had a chance of success after all. He still had a difficult time understanding how the A series had managed to escape. The obnoxious Gideon Spencer had been behind most of it, no doubt because Alex Palmer had turned traitor. The bastard.
“You can’t possibly believe what you’re doing is ethical.” The slight woman tugged at the bonds holding her fast to the lab table. He’d positioned her upright so that he could study her vitals and measure the progress he’d made with the EL13 serum to date.
He checked her stats, ignoring her continued complaints. Perhaps he should have gone back to dosing his volunteers without them knowing. It had certainly done wonders for Bailey Duncan, and he hadn’t been forced to listen to a boring diatribe about his affront to humanity.
“Did you hear me?” She narrowed her gaze. You’re a horrible man. What you’re doing it wrong. Let me go, damn it. This hurts.
He refused to rub his temples while mentally shielding his satisfaction, excited about the strength of her telepathic abilities. Definitely stronger than they had been. Yet, her yammering about moral responsibility grew tedious.
Hmm. He remained on the fence about this one. Physically, Kennedy Knight met the requirements he’d been looking for when he’d chosen her to be a part of his new Circ program. Not only did Kennedy fit the part—healthy, beautiful, a lack of family to miss her—but she had a telepathic power that seemed to sate his new species of Circs.
Unlike Dr. Elliot Pearl, the original genius behind EL12, the Circe Serum, Edwin had realized early on that the result of the genetic recombination in their subjects created a beastlike intelligence that was a separate and psychic force. History had shown that Dr. Pearl’s second batch of Circs did much better at surviving the formula than the original seventy-eight servicemen he’d trialed.
Of those seventy-eight, only five had survived and become the supersoldiers the government had expected. Due to such a high number of failures, and the subsequent violent repercussions when their experiments interacted with civilians they considered prey, the government had scrapped the project. But Dr. Pearl had continued on in private, manufacturing Circs who could be sold to the highest bidder.
Unlike his mentor, Edwin knew to keep a low profile. He didn’t use government or military resources. All of his research had been privately funded. And his Circs easily passed for human. Dr. Pearl’s Circs looked monstrous when changed, but Edwin’s men needed only specialized contact lenses to hide their elongated pupils. Even better, he’d chosen Circs gifted with extrasensory perception to benefit from the EL13 formula he’d perfected. Which made their adjustment to that beastlike sentience an easier transition.
Thus far, he’d made millions selling the services of the enhanced mercenaries he’d created. Or
rather, his benefactor, the now deceased Amelia Norton, had made money. With her death and the destruction of his laboratory in Portland, he’d been forced to move to his secondary station on the island.
Though the new batches performed well enough, none of them had the power that the A series Circs had. As it was, he felt stalled on his B series, especially dealing with that psychotic Caldane. Edwin had been forced to go back to the drawing board, this time with the Level 4 group.
All had progressed as it should there, but the arrival of the psychics had so agitated his Circs that he’d been forced to move the Level 4s to this satellite facility. He didn’t care much for Texas, but hidden in the middle of suburbia, no one knew to look for them here.
And if danger did hint around the corner, Charlotte would let him know.
He smiled. “You know, if you were more like Charlotte, we’d get along just fine.” He made more notes. Kennedy’s hormone levels tended to fluctuate when he didn’t exercise her enough.
“Charlie’s a prisoner, the same as the rest of us,” she spat. “Someday you’re going to get yours, Lang.” And I hope to be there to see it happen.
Her mental shout sent a spike of pain between his temples.
He glared. “That’s quite enough.” Grabbing a nearby syringe, he stabbed her in the thigh, taking no pains to be gentle. Pleased at her indrawn breath, he shot her full of an enzyme to complete her transformation. Then he called for his assistants.
A half hour later, he watched from a safe spot in his viewing room. Kennedy lay unconscious while two of his recovering B series waited for her to revive.
“No permanent harm, gentlemen,” he reminded them, speaking into the intercom.
Nick Myers and Robert Yates turned to the window and nodded. Both men had volunteered to take EL13 for a small fee nearly a year ago. They’d already been aggressive and good at following orders. So Edwin had had no qualms about using them to further his research. Watching their progress against his A series, Gideon Spencer’s team, had been interesting.
Myers and Yates had two other members of their pack, degenerates with incredible mental strength. Amelia had called them monsters, and Edwin agreed. Sheer and Caldane, the rest of the B series, gave him some concern. Sheer’s pyrokinetic abilities, without control, could be hazardous. Thus far he obeyed commands, but as Duane had noted, Sheer had started to pull at his leash. Caldane… Edwin would cross that bridge when he came to it. Cannibalism, though frowned upon by society, did exist as a natural phenomenon.
Spiders, some insects, toads, and even a few human tribes still practiced it. Caldane claimed eating another gave him power. And Edwin had seen enough to know not to be too hasty in dismissing such claims. Still, Caldane proved worrisome.
Myers had yet to recover from Caldane’s treatment. The brash, arrogant Myers had turned into a harsher, more callous creature who reveled in pain all the time. Yates had been Myers’s equal, but now Yates seemed to be more intelligent and better at making decisions. Myers had regressed to a reactive thing better left to obeying orders.
Ah well. So long as he obeyed Edwin, Edwin would let him continue to devolve, if only to see how low he might go. Caldane had served a purpose, Edwin supposed.
Kennedy stirred, and both Circs focused on her.
With so few female Circs available for mating, the men naturally had sexual intercourse with each other. Now with Caldane no longer around to torment his pack members, Myers and Yates took care of each other. As soon as Edwin finished refining Sheer’s ancillary ability, he’d reintroduce the male to their group.
Though Bailey Duncan had been created to complete the B series, her escape left Edwin shorthanded. But the Level 4 group seemed promising.
He watched as Kennedy roused then stilled, sensing danger. She slowly stood but made no aggressive moves. She also didn’t look either man in the eye. Intelligent.
“She’s changed,” Yates announced.
“Yes. Smells damn fine.” Myers smiled.
Kennedy didn’t react except to make herself seem smaller.
Edwin made notes. Yes, smart and able to adapt. Good, good. If only she’d stop chastising him every time she opened her mouth.
******
Kennedy stared in horror at the men who felt…bad. She couldn’t explain it, but Myers and Yates were different now. When she’d first started working at U-Ground Services four months ago, she’d thought she’d volunteered for a secret government experiment.
Most people laughed at the idea of ESP. But Kennedy had been able to read minds and send thoughts her entire life. Puberty had made her gifts even stronger. Then her parents had died, and she’d gone to live with a distant cousin.
Charlie. The poor woman had been in isolation since they’d evacuated the U-Ground building. A massive fire and the chaos of escaped mutants in the basement levels had reached an explosive conclusion.
Kennedy had prayed they might escape, but Dr. Lang and his sadistic assistant, Duane Smith, had made sure she and her psychic companions left alongside his trustworthy men.
Men who weren’t exactly men.
Kennedy could read minds, and she’d been reading odd things for a long time while in Dr. Lang’s company. She could tell the humans from the nonhumans, as she liked to think of them. They thought in two parts, a shared sentience that at times separated. The beast-like part of the men talked to her, told her of their hungers, their hurts. She felt sorry for them, knowing the poor creatures to be as much a victim of Lang as she and her friends were.
She had a bad feeling she’d just become a nonhuman as well, because she felt another part of her self separate, a raw creature guided by instinct and the need for self-preservation. No, no. She had to be imagining things, reading from the others, perhaps.
She stared at the ground, not wanting to aggravate Myers and Yates.
Sadly, of all the Circs—as Lang referred to them—she’d met, these two were the least dangerous. And that wasn’t saying much. Myers had deep pain, one his beast both liked and hated. Yates retained some semblance of humanity, but he had done and continued to do very bad things to women.
As he’d done bad things to her friend, Katie.
Kennedy mourned the woman, knowing how much she must have suffered. She’d barely managed to warn Kennedy to get out of the program before her voice had been snuffed, never to be heard from again.
“Come on, Kennedy. Show us what you’ve got,” Myers taunted. “And flash some tittie while you’re at it. It’s been a while.”
Yates frowned at him. Of the two, he’d been more of a gentleman since coming to the new place. At least, he hadn’t tried to rape her or the others. Yet. Myers had assaulted two of the psychics who’d been part of the program. They’d since left and hadn’t returned.
“I don’t know what you want,” she said softly. To the beasts inside them both, she sent, Please help me. I will obey. You’re clearly in charge. Don’t hurt me.
Myers blinked in confusion, off balance.
Yates narrowed his gaze at her. She felt a subtle acceptance from the creature inside him—nothing softening from the man. “Show us your beast, Kennedy. Let’s see the claws, the fangs. Look at me,” he ordered.
She didn’t want to, because that would mean that the crap Lang had been injecting her with wasn’t some harmless serum designed to just increase her telepathic ability. That she really was becoming something more. She’d wanted so badly to believe the lies, even as she’d sensed herself changing.
And now she knew. She was one of them. Oh God.
“Show me,” Yates said again, this time looking at her with that other intelligence inside him, his icy blue eyes shading to a darker brown as an animal stared back at her.
She searched deep inside herself and felt it there. A need to take inventory of the room, of the males with her. Of the danger outside the room, centered in the beings behind the tempered glass.
Poor mates. Ugly, sick. Evil.
Kennedy agreed, and had to
force herself not to cry at the thought of losing herself to the sentience inside her.
Not separate. One, it said, trying to calm her. Then it showed her how easily she could rip Myers’s throat out and disembowel Yates.
She blinked and felt her fingers tingle. A dart of pain, and then relief as her claws extended for the first time.
“She’s doing it, Dr. Lang.” Yates smiled.
He smelled…off. Yet healthy, unlike Myers, who looked at her with an unwholesome lust. He’d been twisted inside since becoming Circ, and he stank of wrongness—an evil, cancerous creature she’d seen a time or two when working in Portland. The giant of a man with red eyes and serrated teeth, a man who wasn’t a man at all, but something terrifying.
Kennedy blinked and looked around, sensing everything with a clarity that astounded her. She could sense down to the smallest detail, from their fluttering pulses to their racing hearts, the mist of arousal and the miasma of fear that never quite left Myers.
Beyond the window she identified Smith and Lang by feel, a kind of psychic knowing. But she couldn’t hear them, not like she could hear the many people walking past the lab in the hallway. Must have sound-proofed walls in there. Her beast agreed.
So she listened with her mind instead, hearing their words as thoughts while they spoke.
“Dr. Lang, I think we need to terminate Caldane. And maybe even Sheer. I heard them talking the other night. They seem to be planning something.”
“I know.” Lang sounded amused. “I told Sheer to make friends again. The matter of which one leads their pack has been solved. Caldane is clearly stronger, but he’s insane, and he knows it. I believe conceding the leadership to Sheer has let them ease back into acceptable modified roles. It’s time to bring them back into the group and tie them to Yates and Myers once more.”
“Myers will regress.” Smith didn’t sound upset at the idea.
“Yes. I look forward to seeing what the more dominant members will do to his mental faculties.”
“So which of the females will you pair with them? With Bailey Duncan gone, we need someone else. Knight looks promising.”