by Marie Harte
“Ava? You busy?”
His sister answered right away. “Yeah, busy trying not to lose my friggin’ mind. This kid of mine is crazy hungry all the time.”
Great. Just what he needed. To think about his sister breastfeeding. He mentally scrubbed his brain. “I need you to do me a favor. Read my mind.”
She gave a laugh. “Yeah, right. You know I can’t do that. I’ve never been able to.”
“Just try.”
“Okay.” She paused. “Nothing.Tighter than a drum. But…”
“But what?”
“You seem different. And what’s with the chocolate?”
“What?”
“I don’t know how, because you can’t smell thoughts. But it’s like you’re coated in chocolate. Oh God. I hope that’s not a sign I’m pregnant again. I need some recovery time from Sophie.”
He heard the mental echo of a baby’s gurgle and sent a burst of love to his niece. “She’s like me,” he said with pride. “My little girl can hear thoughts.”
“You mean my little girl. You’re as bad as the others. Gunnar brags she has his strength and his bright blue berserker eyes. The others are claiming she mimics whatever they do, and Grandma is so proud, she’s about to burst.”
“Good. Keep Alicia busy and out of my hair.”
“Uh, about that. I heard her on the phone with Lonnie earlier. You don’t pull through on this mission, and she’s planning to put you behind a desk, bro. Be careful about this one.”
“Fuck.”
“Watch your mouth.”
He could feel her frown. “Sorry. Hey, at least the kid can’t understand words yet. Can she?”
Ava sighed. “I hope not. Because half the things Gunnar says would melt her ears clean off. Oh hell. She’s hungry again. Gotta go. Love ya.”
“You too.” He disconnected the link and tried not to jump to conclusions.
His parents could read each other’s thoughts. So could Alicia and Lonnie, now that his grandmother had finally accepted him as her mate. Gray had been gifted with an advanced telepathy from the time he could crawl. Any serious ties to a mate would be mental as well as physical.
He’d never before been so tuned into another person. With Bas, he felt physical desire. But did he also share a mental connection? He couldn’t be sure, not without looking into Bas’s mind. Tempting as it was, he didn’t think Bas would welcome the intrusion. Certainly they shared chemistry. But what if Bas had only wanted him to sate his needs? They’d worked together for months, but this was the first time Bas had shown any interest. Hell, up until this point, he hadn’t realized Bas liked men.
Though most Circs were bisexual, many preferred one gender to another, seeking other Circs more as a necessity than due to any real sexual preference. Bas had never displayed the typical characteristics of a Circ—the mating heats, the out-of-control rages, resistance to the change. From what little Gray knew, Bas was a rare individual who had adjusted to the Circe serum without a problem.
Until now.
Until he had his first mating heat. But why so late after becoming Circ? The nagging question remained, though Gray tried to ignore it. What were the odds he’d been thinking of Bas as an experiment and the man just happened to mention it in a fit before stalking out the door?
On shaky legs, Gray stood and moved to his shower, where he washed himself clean. Yet the bonded scent of himself and Bas didn’t fade. His beast stretched inside him, wrapping himself in the familiar, welcomed touch of Bas’s memory.
So not good.
Gray didn’t mind the thought of one day mating, but he intended to do it the right way. With a female Circ from home, one of those born gifted, like him, to produce children. He’d continue his family’s way of life, protecting the innocent while making sure society didn’t annihilate itself in the name of trying to make life better. Righting science gone wrong had been his grandmother’s agenda since he could remember. And she’d made sure he and his sister understood they had significant roles to fill.
Alicia could see the future, and she’d seen Gray saving lives. His importance in the grand scheme of things gave him purpose. He’d tolerated the unnatural Circs because they could help him where normal humans could not. But to mate at this early stage in his life, and with a male, no less, would ruin everything. No progeny to pass on his gifts. No easing into a more sedate life after the raw urgency of today’s crises. He’d have to drop everything now and cater to a male who needed tending, protection, instruction.
God. Sebastian Decker might be good-looking, hell on wheels in the sack, and as strong as an ox, but in Circ years, he was a toddler. The thought made Gray slightly ill, and he hurriedly changed his train of thought. Instead of dwelling on what might be, he needed to think about what was coming. Al Ross was a problem if Alicia had sent him on the man’s path. And if she planned on benching him if he failed, he had a bad feeling Ross would be more than just a mission, but one of those fucking tests his grandmother loved to throw his way.
He sighed as the hot water in the shower turned cool. No doubt Bas was soaking away his anger in the other shower, hogging all the hot water. The man might be a few scant years younger, but he seemed worlds more vulnerable. His sense of humor, his forgiving nature, his ability to smile when the shit hit the fan, made him not just a decent partner, but a person Gray actually liked being around—a truth he’d take to his grave.
The thought of Bas’s smile warmed Gray and alarmed him, because the notion of Bas forever in his life seemed right. As he let the water cleanse him, he couldn’t shake the idea that no matter what he did, he’d never be free of Sebastian Decker.
* * * *
Friday afternoon, Ali pulled aside the curtains and watched the sun peer through the green pines and firs surrounding her grandfather’s—her—cabin. Once again she’d routed the scavengers sent to rape and torture her into submission. She glanced down at her scarred and healing arms, wishing she could just end her existence now. But until she took out the head of the labs who’d done this to her, she’d never know peace. Nor would her grandfather.
She shivered as a sensation her grandfather would have called Ross Intuition crept over her. The knowledge that change was coming settled into her blood and bones. The rogues she expected. But this feeling told her something new approached.
She glanced at her dwindling supply of ammunition on the nearby counter and sighed. If she wanted to survive the summer, she’d need to find more ammo. But that meant a return to the warehouse. A place that practically seethed with negative energy.
Granddad Dill had cursed her father up and down, but to no avail. Dan Ross had sold them out. His days in the army had amounted to little, except that his good friend Caleb Trenton had kept in touch after they’d both discharged from the military. Good old Caleb had given him a job, had even let him bring his daughter around after her mother passed. With childcare hard to come by with no money and no job, Dan Ross had been more than willing to do whatever Caleb said. He’d even allowed Caleb to test a special vaccine on his only daughter, his baby girl. She’d been a goner since she’d turned five. She just hadn’t known it then.
Ten years later, when her father had died and she’d gone to live with her mother’s parents, the shots stopped. But the damage had been done. And then in her early twenties, Trenton and his goons had returned with a court order to take her back to the labs. The first two sessions she’d spent there had been odd but not threatening. Months of tests, physical and mental, had bored her but not harmed her. But the last time, they’d kidnapped her grandfather as well. And they’d done…things…to her. Things she didn’t like to think about too hard, or the rage that made her blood mutate faster grew stronger. Her veins throbbed as the black disease spread to her forearms. The palms of her hands grew darker, and she drew in a deep breath and let it out to relieve the tension.
Peace. Find it. Own it. She could almost hear Granddad’s voice, and she smiled. Then the knowing came back full force
. Danger, a new path, a new life. She’d have to make some choices in the next few days. And those choices would determine everything.
Tired of all the drama, she dressed, took a nice walk through the woods, and made sure to cover her tracks. She’d seen a few people near the area a few weeks ago. They weren’t like the odd tourist who sometimes wandered too close. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she’d known to steer clear of the big man, and a good thing. He could, impossibly, change his shape. He’d come in many different forms, but in each he smelled the same.
The others with him called him Jack or boss. She’d wanted him gone, but she’d made sure to secretly unleash her pheromones to steer him and his companions away from the Circ threat in her mountains. Now if only everyone would leave her the hell alone.
With a sigh, she trailed down to her favorite spot—a small lake partially buried beneath melting ice and snow. A copse of pines seemed to lean over her lake, as if the trees protected it for her.
She sat down on her sunning rock, where the sunlight cleared the trees and warmed the rock for hours on end. As she sat and contemplated her life, her gaze caught on the moss covering the base of one tree. The green and brown shades caught her attention until a flash of light startled her into looking at the water. It had appeared blue green a few minutes ago, but now the bright blue color meant something else. Something important…
Her stomach rumbled and reminded her she had yet to eat. Her beast chided her for forgetting, and then another part of her, that darkness she tried so hard to keep buried, scented a rabbit nearby.
It took everything she had to rein in the savage lust for blood and the kill. Running back to her cabin and ruining all the work she’d done covering her tracks, she hurried to her meager stash of food and ate. After she’d finished enough to satisfy her beast, she returned to the forest and erased her footprints. Then she hunted down the rabbit and killed it, no longer a slave to her bloodlust.
Unfortunately, though the kill would suffice as dinner after she cooked it, an odd sensation formed in her chest and belly. What felt like dread mingled with excitement.
They’re coming for me.
The thought grew stronger as the day passed into night, then blended into day once more. She couldn’t think of anything but what the future might have in store.
The breeze blew. The noon sun beat down upon the earth, melting more snow. Summer had come to the mountains. She smiled at the gentle heat warming the plant life to grow.
Then an unfamiliar scent hit her, a scent that promised paradise if she’d follow the trail to its source. Before she could, though, the rotted smell of rogue Circs intruded. Corruption, greed, and lust swirled like smog through the pure air. They shouldn’t have been back so soon. But Trenton must have sent another group to follow the first.
He grew more insistent, more treacherous. She had to kill the bastard.
Danger blanketed her world, and Ali drew on her instincts and her ability to hunt. First she’d take care of the rogues. Then she’d see what smelled so incredibly good. She only hoped she wouldn’t be forced to kill it before she’d had a small taste.
Chapter Four
As they scoured the mountains in their changed forms throughout the day and into the night, Bas did his best not to think about Gray. He’d taken the east side of the hill and Gray the west, and he kept telling himself he wanted the distance. Not talking to the arrogant bastard for the past two days served him right. Who the fuck was Grayson Belle to look down on him?
Top of his class in college and the FBI Academy, a decorated agent who always accomplished his mission, Bas had never been out of his element until he’d been kidnapped and forced to become something less than human. But even his time as a Circ had been measured with success. He took to the lifestyle, embracing his beast and the change while others turned rogue, mutant, or plain crazy. Not ruled by his beast, Bas controlled his actions. Or at least, he had.
He scowled and used his senses to guide him through the trees. The snow didn’t bother his bare feet. When changed, his skin was inured to extremes in temperature and surface. The claws on his hands and toes helped him with traction, and though he wore loose trousers and a sweater, he didn’t actually need the clothing to protect him from the weather.
In one hand he held a Circ2000 fit with a silencer. The weapon could pierce Circ flesh and bone without a problem. Attached to his belt was the radio Gray insisted he take with him. As if Bas didn’t know better than to go on a mission without a means of communication. The bastard.
Arrogant, controlling son of a bitch.Like I need him to play nursemaid. He’s lucky I answer to him at all—
The swipe of claws toward his face preceded the sudden smell of decaying flesh. Out of nowhere, a rogue in the process of turning mutant had appeared and roared at him. Bas avoided his jagged claws, and the thing took another swipe.
He’d seen pictures of mutants, but this was the first Circ he’d seen midtransformation, face-to-face. The rogue had hardened skin, dark and weathered, but black stripes highlighted his mutation. His fangs and claws were overly large, and his eyes, once normal for a Circ, now had black orbs striated with red, no pupil to be seen. The creature’s scent came and went, as if the thing had a faulty Off switch.
When it roared, it conveyed such a sense of unhappiness, pain, and fury that Bas wanted to kill it if only to put the creature out of its misery.
“You Ross?” he asked it as he dodged another blow.
“Need to feed. Hungry.”
It wore nothing but the hardened scales of interlocking flesh that made up its external armor. Bas could see its physical arousal all too clearly. To his disgust, the thing’s cock had spikes and seemed to grow under his study.
“Ah, right. Sure. You’re hungry.” Bas knew Gray wanted him to call the minute he had any trouble. But tired of listening to Mr. Perfect, Bas decided to handle this guy on his own. He looked like a monster, but Bas could handle him.
Unleashing the strength he normally held in check when he dealt with Gray, Bas let loose a torrent of frustration. They battled with claws, bites, and sheer strength, but in the end, Bas won. He pinned the thing to the ground with his weight and leaned hard on its neck.
“Gimme your name, and you can live.” He just had to confirm Ross’s identity before killing it; then he and Gray could leave this place. Bas loved the mountains, but he could do without all the monster battles. Or the relationship drama, as he now regarded his questionable interlude with Gray. He needed to return home and lick his wounds, then decide what to do about his stubborn, sexy, know-it-all partner.
“Need her. Want her,” the thing under his elbow croaked.
“Are you Al Ross? Answer the fucking question.”
The pathetic yearning on the rogue’s face tore at Bas’s heart, but he had to know.
“Not Ross. Want Ross. Mine.”
Not Ross, and thus not Bas’s problem. Despite the things he’d been ordered to do for his country, Bas wasn’t a murderer. They’d been trying to reform some of the rogues, and depending upon how far gone this one was, it—he, he reminded himself—might be capable of rehabilitation.
Bas planned to knock the rogue unconscious and call for backup when another rogue knocked into him and shoved him aside. He swore and rolled to a crouched position, ready to attack, when he noticed not one or two but four rogues looking at him with keen desire. For blood or sex, he couldn’t tell. And from the looks on their faces, neither could they.
Two of them looked like him. Normal Circs who’d gone rogue. The other two resembled freakish half mutants.
Let them have it, his beast demanded. And Bas did, because he knew the danger to him was real. With a hurried press to the radio, he shouted for help as the rogues attacked en masse. A coordinated effort he wouldn’t have credited these monsters.
Slashes to his midsection and back hurt, but he quickly healed. Unfortunately, the half mutants seemed to be playing with him. Shit. Gray was right. They
were barely manageable one at a time. In a pack…deadly.
“Pretty.” One of them licked its lips, and a black forked tongue flickered before disappearing into its mouth.
Another growled, “But not her.”
“Who cares?” the other half mutant answered. “Smells good. Hungry.”
They rushed him without warning, and Bas sucked in a breath as two of them threw him into a tree, where he landed hard enough to break a few ribs. Before he could recover, they tore into him. He felt lips and teeth digging into his arms, his shoulder… Oh fuck. His neck.
The blood loss wasn’t as bad as the drugging paralysis invading his system. Fuckers are toxic, he thought as his vision grew hazy. But as one of the stronger ones shoved the others away and raked at Bas’s trousers, no doubt intent on sex, a tantalizing scent froze the group.