by Harte, Marie
Myers knew when to back off. “Yes, sir.”
“If there’s nothing else?”
“That’s all for now.”
Lang hung up without a goodbye.
“So we have to wait.” Yates scowled.
“What else is new?” Myers sighed. “I know we volunteered for this, but I’m getting tired of waiting. Any word on the other freaks Lang’s working on? Smith say anything about when we can have them?”
“No, but he’s not one to talk to right now. You saw what he did to Spencer. Torched his balls off.”
Myers frowned. “Smith worries me.”
“Me too. But I think he worries Lang more. That’s why we’re here.” Yates gave a shrug. “But there are ways around him, around the doc too, for that matter. Have you seen the chicks down on level 4? Part of that psychic program Lang’s fronting? How about we offer some security down there?”
“Seen anything you like?” No wonder he and Yates got along so well.
“There’s a new sexy brunette mouthing off about things she shouldn’t be talking about. No one’s going to complain if she wants to play house with us…then disappears.”
“Well then. Let’s go.”
***
Gideon loved the feel of Pratt’s guts squishing through his fingers. The scent of Pratt’s otherness surprised him, though. He hadn’t sensed it before, but now he realized Pratt had to be a little bit like him. Psychic, yet not. Stronger, for sure, because though Pratt had fallen in a heap to the ground, he remained silent and aware. Gideon leaned down to grab him, and the bloodied guard struggled to go free.
With Gideon’s luck, the asshole would heal, and then he’d need to deal with Pratt and Palmer at the same time. Ripping his arm from the other metal band on the table, Gideon tore into Pratt’s neck. No way the guy would re-grow a head. At least, he hoped not.
While keeping his gaze on Palmer, who stood too close for comfort, Gideon sawed at Pratt’s neck, tensed and ready for Palmer’s attack.
Pratt finally let loose a blood-curdling shriek when Gideon hit his cervical spine, but he couldn’t do more than dangle like a puppet on a stick as Gideon controlled his movements, psychically attuned to every move Pratt made before he made it. He dug deep into the man’s neck.
After a few moments, Pratt ceased howling, then he stopped breathing as Gideon ripped his head off his body. Covered in blood, Gideon smiled through his fangs at Palmer, ready for the next round.
Palmer still hadn’t attacked, in fact, he took a few steps back and held up his hands in surrender. That lack of aggression annoyed Gideon more than if the shithead had gone for his throat.
After nudging Pratt’s body aside, Gideon leaped at Palmer, who dodged him.
The animalistic rage inside him boiled. “You’re a dead man.”
“We really don’t have time for this.” Palmer frowned. “It’s after 23:00 already.”
Gideon feinted right. Palmer predictably moved left, and Gideon tackled him, feeling his own skin continue to knit, healing and strengthening as he fought. They rolled, and Gideon tried to get a feel for the man. Palmer was large and dense in muscle, fierce, and…shielded. They wrestled, pressed body-to-body, yet Gideon still couldn’t read him, which had never before happened.
He punched, kicked, bit. They pummeled each other, and the creature inside Gideon continued to grow in strength. Despite their brawling, he hadn’t broken Palmer’s skin, which was odd. The creature inside him didn’t like that at all. Gideon continued to tear at the big man, then realized Palmer wasn’t fighting back so much as he was defending himself.
Knowing Palmer’s strength, feeling that energy yet seeing no animosity, Gideon paused and stared down at his adversary. He remained on top of Palmer, their hips flush, his legs on either side of Palmer’s holding him down.
As he met Palmer’s gaze, something alien blinked back at him. Gideon narrowed his focus, saw the outline of contacts, masking Palmer’s eyes. He shifted over Palmer, determined to figure the bastard out, and the tip of a claw pierced deep, through Palmer’s skin into his shoulder.
They both tensed.
Gideon watched, waiting for a reaction, and got none. He removed his claw and shoved Palmer’s shirt aside, watching as the guy’s skin healed in seconds. Then he glanced at the dark red blood stain on his claw. Unlike Pratt’s death scent, a sweet smell of earth and life hit him hard. Palmer smelled…right.
To Gideon’s shock, his cock swelled, a furious rush of desire making it hard to think past the need to fuck. He tried to shake it off. Had to be the effect of whatever they’d shoved into his bloodstream, because Gideon didn’t do guys. But he ached, so much…
“Oh hell.” Palmer continued to stare up at him, and Gideon swore the guy’s pupils elongated, a glow brightening behind the protection of his contacts. “Not now, Gideon.”
“When?” he heard himself say while the creature inside him took charge. Some part of him knew none of this made sense. Getting a hard-on—for a guy—while covered in blood and squirming over the freakin’ enemy could only be considered insane.
But the creature inside him refused to be silenced. It wanted, and it would have its prey, one way or the other.
Palmer must have sensed the danger in refusing, because he dragged a hand over between them, molding Gideon’s huge hard-on, then cupped his balls. “Oh yeah. You want it. You’re nice and wet.” He ran his hand over Gideon’s slick cock again.
Wet? Gideon wanted to ask questions, but the earthy scent around Palmer deepened, drugging with lust, and the creature within him took over. He leaned closer and nipped Palmer’s lower lip. The taste of the man was like nothing Gideon had ever experienced. Sultry, necessary, and fucking fantastic. Before he knew it, he was kissing the breath out of Palmer, stroking into the man’s big hand while plastered to that hard, commanding body.
Palmer rumbled beneath him with a vibrating purr that made Gideon yearn to be closer. As he ground over the guy, he felt an answering erection in Palmer’s pants. A huge, thick shaft as big as his own.
Palmer slid his tongue between Gideon’s lips, delved deep, then pulled back. Gideon pulled his head away to see Palmer’s expression contorted into pleasured pain. “I’m close. Fuck, Gideon. You chose a hell of a time for this.” But Palmer didn’t protest any more. He gripped Gideon tighter.
Desire consumed him. Pistoning faster, harder, Gideon did his best to challenge the male, to see who would come first. Even the sound of the alarm didn’t stop Gideon from biting hard into Palmer’s shoulder as he conquered the male and came in his enemy’s hand. The ecstasy stilled the violent need inside him, especially when he smelled not only his seed, but Palmer’s as well.
“Damn it. Now’s not a good time.” Palmer groaned and rubbed against him a few more times. “Shit, that felt good.” He glanced up at Gideon, met his gaze, then closed his eyes and turned his head, offering his throat.
Satisfied, the beast inside Gideon released its hold over him and surrendered to the sudden exhaustion that settled into his bones. He slumped over his lover—his enemy—and fell asleep.
Alex stifled several oaths as he did his best to think of a way out of this mess, and at the same time, to not jostle Gideon. “Fuck me.” He hadn’t planned this. Hadn’t thought himself capable of this kind of raw desire—especially not with a bloodied, naked Circ. His bisexual nature aside, he hadn’t desired sex since losing Ryan a year ago.
His suspicion that he’d been experimented on without his consent had been proven beyond a doubt. I’m so screwed.
He gently scooted a sleeping Gideon off him and stood. Grimacing at the blood all over his shirt, the floor, and at the mess in his pants, he swore some more and checked his phone. Shit. Time to definitely go before everything went to hell. Gideon hadn’t been part of his initial plan. Now he’d have to improvise.
A glance at Pratt’s sightless eyes made him smile, though. He’d been wanting to do the bastard some damage for months. Gideon had gone a step
beyond, but hell, he’d earned the right to his retribution. And speaking of which… No worries that Smith’s blowtorch had done Gideon permanent damage. The guy had functioned on all cylinders in the sex department.
Alex felt his cheeks heat. Good Lord. He’d really jerked a stranger off and come in his pants. A glance at Gideon’s form showed the guy fully healed under all that blood. That big cock hadn’t suffered lasting damage either. No burn marks, no scars, nothing anywhere on Gideon’s body to show he’d ever been tortured beyond what a person should ever bear.
Knowing he had better things to do than ogle the Circ he’d just gotten off, Alex easily slung Gideon over his shoulder. The alarm was loud. Whether it had been raised as a result of Gideon killing Pratt or the distraction, according to the plan, he had no idea. But he did know he needed to move. ASAP.
He ran unimpeded down the hallway, through the haze of smoke, the blare of the alarms, and toward the sound of gunfire.
The government clean-up team had definitely arrived.
He rushed past the guard station, not surprised to see it empty, and toward a side stairwell normally only used by administrators. Rushing up one flight to the infirmary and praying Katie had gotten out in time, if she’d even been in the place, he encountered hostiles and looked for the other two men needing extraction. He had to get to Elijah Ortiz and Carter Freeman before Dr. Lang’s men took them away, and he’d overheard Peters mention that both men had been escorted to level two.
Of all the subjects who’d been worked over with Lang’s “new and improved” Circ serum, EL13, only Gideon, Elijah, and Carter qualified as successes. Alex had passed Katie’s data to General Shields and the Circe’s Recruits team. The good guys were supposed to handle all the bad shit going down here. Hopefully they’d shut the place down and provide some help for the poor bastards lost to mutation.
Alex hadn’t mentioned his own misgivings that he too might be Circ. Once he ditched this place, he intended to start fresh somewhere else, where no one knew him. He and Katie could try being normal for once. For all the Circ team knew, he was just a bumbling security guard in the wrong place at the wrong time. A guy who’d happened on some weird crap and wanted to do the right thing. Period.
Over his shoulder, Gideon groaned.
Great. Just what Alex didn’t need. And then he caught it, that psychic scent of more Circs nearby. He followed it to a room and put his hand on the keypad.
A rush of heat filled his mind, the image of numbers entered, then a vision of Elijah and Carter dragged into the room, tearing at each other and growling like animals. Alex blinked to clear his vision, wishing he didn’t have to wear his stupid contacts anymore. But they’d helped hide the odd brightness of his eyes. Had Dr. Lang seen that, he surely would have caged Alex like all his other subjects.
Alex inputted the code, then entered. Elijah and Carter stood clutching the bars of their respective cells. Both men looked larger than he’d last seen them. Both…different. Like Gideon and himself, they were more. Alex had always been big, so his changes had been subtle. Not these guys. They’d been huge to begin with, but now they dwarfed him by a few inches. At least six-five or six-six. Definitely noticeable, even if they hadn’t been sporting fangs, claws, and those feline-like, slit pupils—eyes he might even now be developing.
He placed an awakening Gideon down onto a lab table and pulled out his phone.
“Come here, shithead.” Elijah Ortiz smiled, and Alex knew to keep back. The guy had a new ability that unnerved Smith, of all people. Not sure what it was, Alex nevertheless understood the doctors believed Elijah to be the most dangerous of the new Circs.
“Let us out,” Carter Freeman ordered. Dark blond hair curled around his nape, his blue eyes—yeah, glowing. Strange as hell, and oddly compelling. “Just open up the cages and let us free.”
Alex didn’t plan on freeing them without help. He tried to look down to text his location, so the troops could get them free. But he couldn’t look away from Carter.
Elijah laughed, tearing Alex’s concentration. From a distance, Elijah’s eyes seemed black as pitch, like a void sucking everything inside.
“Come on, Palmer. We’re friends. Look at me,” Carter crooned. Alex glanced back at him. “Let us out.”
Alex didn’t want to, but he took a step toward Carter. Then another. Carter smiled, encouraging. Alex had almost reached the cage…
Chapter Three
“That’s it,” Carter’s deep baritone was soothing, persuasive. “Let us out so we can all go free. I’ll owe you one.”
The best idea Alex had ever heard. He’d let Carter and Elijah go free. He’d save them himself, because then Carter would owe him a favor.
Gideon’s claws gripped him by the shoulder, stopping him. “Fuck off, Carter.”
“Gideon Spencer.” Carter grinned at him. “Red’s your color.”
“Nice.” Elijah sniffed. “Smells like Pratt. He dead?”
“Unless he can grow a new head, yeah.”
The caged men laughed, and Alex heard madness in the sound. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to free Carter. He tried to move, but Gideon held tight.
Not right. I need to get help. Let the team know…
“Quit fucking with Palmer. He’s mine to deal with,” Gideon warned.
“Not yours.” Alex shook his head, confused. “Look, we need to go.”
“What’s going on out there?” Elijah asked.
“Who cares?” Carter shrugged. “They can all kill each other, far as I’m concerned. Let me out, Palmer.”
Gideon glared. “I said leave him alone.”
Carter opened his mouth to say something, but to Alex’s surprise, he clutched his head and fell to his knees, gasping.
“Fuck off, asshole.” Elijah rattled the bars, glaring at Gideon. “Try that with me.” The same thing happened to Elijah, who swore and rubbed his temples.
“Why don’t you fuck off?” Gideon turned to Alex and cocked his head, his eyes completely alien, his claws covered with blood and sharp as razors. He looked inhuman. “What’s going on out there?” Yet he sounded more rational than Alex would have expected considering all the guy had been through. Poisoning, murder, fucking.
“A rescue.” Alex couldn’t help noting Gideon’s rising erection. Christ. He felt his own body responding, against his will, and cleared his throat, raising his gaze above Gideon’s neck and keeping it there. “To get you guys out.”
Gideon leaned close and sniffed him. “Your rescue?”
“I, ah, I’m trying to shut this place down. The guys out there are government. Help for us all.”
“Liar,” Elijah said, his voice hoarse. “You’re part of this.”
“I’m not.”
“He’s one of us, though. Not entirely human,” Carter argued. “I can smell it, can’t you?”
Elijah frowned. “No shit?” He stood, keeping a wary eye on Gideon. “You know…I can. It’s faint though.”
“But it’s there.”
Gideon turned his attention to the pair. He let go of Alex and walked to Carter. They stared at each other before Carter looked away. Then he did the same to Elijah.
Alex felt something important happening, but distracted by the noise outside, he missed whatever Gideon said to Elijah.
Gideon turned to him once more. “Can you get them out?”
“I think so.” He needed to call for reinforcements. “But it would be safer if our rescuers were on hand to help. We were all supposed to meet on the third floor, in the lab. I need to let them know plans changed.”
“No. We get out on our own.” Gideon bared his teeth and curled his claws, feral, angry, and wild. “No help,” he growled. “I don’t trust anyone.”
“On that we agree.” Carter nodded, gave Alex a grim smile, then stepped back from the bars and sat on the lone bench in his cell. “Don’t call anyone, Palmer.”
“But I…” Alex clenched his jaw and struggled against his need to obey. Ob
viously Carter had some kind of mind mojo to get others to follow his orders. Between him and the dangerous Elijah, Alex knew they all had to escape. Leaving any of them for Lang to experiment on further would be like leaving a loaded gun in the hands of a psycho.
He fiddled with the phone in his pocket, hoping he hit the right speed dial button, and left it on to be located. Walking to each cell, he put his hand on the keypad and concentrated. After envisioning the release codes, he entered them to let each man free then braced himself for their attack.
Elijah hit him first with a punch to the jaw, disorienting him. Then Carter tackled him, busting his chin on the cement floor. Palmer returned a punch, catching Elijah in the face. Carter retaliated, and pain blossomed in his arm, twisted behind his back.
“Enough.”
Before either man could hit him again, or he could strike back, Alex felt a hammer pounding inside his brain and curled in on himself.
“You three done?” Gideon stood above them, still bloodied and naked and not seeming to care in the slightest.
“Again, you bastard? What the fuck was that?” Carter groaned.
Elijah spat, “I knew you were a huge dick the moment I first saw you fight in the ring.”
“Back at you, Ortiz.”
Alex interrupted the lovefest and slowly rose to his feet. “Guys, cut the bullshit. We need to go, now. We’re stronger together than apart.”
Gideon nodded. “Palmer might be wearing a U-Ground uniform, but he helped me, so I’m helping him get out of here. After that, we’ll see.” He paused. “You dickheads get me?” The raw warning in his tone got through to all of them, Alex included.
Strange how he’d felt sorry for Gideon earlier. Nothing in the man suggested he’d experienced any pain, had any give in his will. Gideon acted like a leader. And he…smelled…like one too.
Alex shook his head, bemused at what his instincts tried to tell him. An inner part of him liked following Gideon’s orders, knowing where he fit into the group. But he wasn’t Circ. Just different. Or at least, that’s all he had been before tracking Katie down to this hell hole. Shit.