by Harte, Marie
If you have this, you’re not safe. It’s all real. Monsters and experiments, psychics and secret labs. I’m so sorry to do this to you. Print this sucker out and take it to Doc. He’ll help you. Because Bailey, you’re one of them now. And there’s no going back. You need help.”
Bailey sat there, stunned, and continued to read.
“You don’t have much time. Copy this file and take it with you. Print it if you can, because they’ll erase it when they know you have it. And they’re coming for you. Myers, Yates and Sheer. And that other one. He’s so wrong… They’re bad men, Bailey. And you’re supposed to be part of their pack. Get out, now. Go to Doc, to his lab in New Jersey, and Circe’s Recruits will help you. Get to the locker of my favorite number on the beach. You know where. You’ll know what to do then.”
Moving on autopilot, she copied the entire folder to a thumb drive and printed out one of the multipage files as a backup. While it printed, she threw some clothes into a bag and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the moderate September air, she felt chilled to the bone.
Once the last page printed, she deleted the email and file from her computer, grabbed her keys and her overnight bag, and hustled out the back door. Just as she reached the car, she heard screeching vehicles around front and knew they’d come for her.
With her heart in her throat, she started her car and slowly turned down another alley, then another, before hitting the main street around the corner from her house. Understanding she hadn’t been imagining things, she knew she had to dump her car, and soon, before they spotted the old clunker.
Still not sure what the heck had happened, she drove half an hour to a car rental that happened to have a diner next door. She popped into the diner for a coffee and breakfast, determined to get to the bottom of her neuroses. Did something terrible happen to Katie? What about U-Ground and all that strange background noise? It couldn’t be real, could it?
Her answers came too easily. Scrolling through the local news on the television mounted in the diner, she watched in horror at the footage of a fire breaking out at U-Ground Transportation. Apparently no one had been hurt—yeah, right—but the company was taking a loss after a faulty gas leak exploded underground.
“Shit.”
She didn’t finish her eggs, though she did take her coffee to go.
Knowing she had to see this through, or at least get to the people Katie had told her about, she left her car in the diner’s lot and rented a compact vehicle, maxing out her credit card. Gas wouldn’t cost as much, and she’d feel better in a vehicle that didn’t stand out like her jalopy.
Bailey set course for the East Coast with a hasty good-bye to Portland. I’ll look on this as the vacation I’ve never had, she kept telling herself.
She stopped looking over her shoulder ten hours later, once she’d reached the southern border of Idaho. Only two thousand, two hundred thirty miles to go.
***
Gideon woke with one hell of a headache. He slowly opened his eyes, taking in the scene of yet another lab environment. But this time he wasn’t tied down, and the lab didn’t have any bad smells. Antiseptic, some pine cleanser that had been used on the floors, but no scent of decay or death.
He sat up, surprised to find himself alone and apparently not under guard. He’d been dressed in a gray sweat suit, but no shoes. A glance around show bright lemon yellow walls, a concrete floor, and a long couch he’d been lying on. A couch in a laboratory? In the center of the room sat a hospital bed, one large enough to hold his sorry ass. Around the room, cabinets and counters lined the walls. But at least here, he didn’t see his buddy’s brains in a jar.
He groaned as he stood on shaky legs, ignoring the emotional pain he hadn’t yet dealt with while managing the real hurt in his limbs. He felt as if he’d run a few marathons. Even his joints ached. Running his tongue over his throbbing gums, he sensed nothing amiss. No sharp teeth, thank God. A glance at his fingers showed them normal as well.
It took him a moment to calm his racing heart and clear his blurring vision.
His head ached, but his muscles firmed. That angry beast inside him didn’t mind this environment, surprisingly. But it remained wary, giving him strength of mind, of purpose, to escape and investigate before he could be attacked.
At the thought, a thick metal door opened. There were a few glass windows looking out into a lit hallway. Another inconsistency with the lab he’d been in before. He noticed two women watching him through the glass, a redhead and a blond. Neither captured his attention, not like the Circs walking through the door in front of a smaller, older man.
He could almost see the larger, inhuman Circ forms over their human counterparts. That Roane guy, Derrick, and Hale entered, protecting the gray-haired academic wearing glasses behind them.
Roane gave him a hard stare. Still large, even in human form, at least now he resembled a man, same as the guys with him. Gideon didn’t know if he looked different now as well, though he felt the same. He still had two sentiences occupying the same body. Him and that wild thing that didn’t like being trapped.
He kept his gaze on Roane, but as he felt with that other sense inside him, his gaze sought Hale. Though smaller than Roane and Derrick, Hale possessed an otherness Gideon’s beast recognized. Like that yellow-eyed bastard now standing with the women outside. That guy seriously put his back up. The other Circs were dangerous, but not like…
“McKinley,” he muttered, glaring at the asshole who dared give him the finger.
So the glass didn’t make the room soundproof. Either that or the fucker had incredible hearing. Hale chuckled, and a shimmer of knowing passed from him to McKinley.
“Yeah, we don’t much care for him either,” Roane said, ignoring McKinley’s toothy grin.
Hale frowned. “Roane.”
“But he’s family,” Roane continued. “You’re Gideon Spencer.”
Gideon stared at him.
“Did you volunteer to help Dr. Edwin Lang?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“That’s a no, then,” Hale answered and leaned back against a counter while the older man took a tray out of one of the drawers.
Gideon saw needles and scalpels and stepped back, crouching low, ready to attack.
“Easy, guy. Doc’s just getting your sample kit ready. Doesn’t hurt.” Derrick took one of the scalpels and sliced his finger, so that a small well of blood appeared. “He’s gonna look at you under a microscope is all.” Derrick sucked his finger, then held it up to show it had fully healed. “Relax. Doc is one of the good guys. He won’t hurt you.”
“But I will if you try anything,” Roane added.
Gideon flipped him off. Derrick laughed, then covered it with a cough when Roane shot him a look.
Hale gave an innocent shrug. “I’m not laughing, Roane. Not out loud, anyway,” he added with a snort. “Look, Gideon. I know this must suck. We know about your friends.” He grew serious. “What was done to you was done to us a long time ago. But we volunteered at the beginning. I have the feeling you didn’t.”
The smaller man just watched him with a clinical assessment Gideon didn’t care for.
He felt his gums tear as his fangs descended, and he snarled at the older man.
“I’m Doctor Evan Dennis, but you can call me Doc,” the older man said. He didn’t appear scared at all. Nor put off by Gideon’s aggressiveness. He watched Gideon with understanding and...compassion. That was something Gideon hadn’t expected, and his beast quieted down. “We had thought all of this was behind us. But every time we think we can relax, one of Elliot Pearl’s old protégées appears.” Doc sighed. “Do you have any idea what’s been done to you?”
Gideon took another step back. Then, not liking his position, he paced in a tiny square which gave him room to move and an ability to keep an eye on the others. “I know I was kidnapped, probably drugged, while in a fight in Philly.”
“A fight?” Roane asked, moving back to stan
d with Derrick and Hale while Doc positioned his tray in the center bed.
“An underground fight club. That’s where they found us. Me, Ortiz and Freeman.” And poor Ollie and Rod. He gritted his jaw to keep from screaming his rage. His pain.
“Elijah Ortiz and Carter Freeman,” Hale said.
Roane nodded. “So you were there for the fight, then…”
“Then I got dizzy in the middle of a bout.” Gideon ran a hand through his hair that seemed to have grown an inch. “I woke up strapped to a lab table while Smith and Lang tortured me.” Fury returned with the memories, the feeling of being a victim not sitting well. Seeing Rod’s organs in a jar. Jesus. They’d learned how to ride bikes together.
“Easy, Gideon.” Doc held up his hands. “We’re not here to hurt you at all. But to help you, I’ll need to take a few samples. I’ll even explain everything while we do it. You and your friends are different than the Circs we’re used to. You might have issues that crop up you won’t be able to handle. I can help.”
“What else to you remember?” Derrick asked. The large African American appeared intimidating even without the Circ DNA. Hell, all three of them did. When Derrick crossed his large arms over his chest, Gideon shifted slightly, putting more weight on the balls of his feet.
He read the body language in the room and adjusted, ready to fight back at a moment’s notice. They might say they didn’t want to hurt him, but he’d be ready in any event.
“I was there a month. They pumped a lot of shit into me that hurt other people when they came in contact with it. Some black crap that burned, filled up my lungs. And they had scientists watching everything. A disease guy, some neurospecialists or something. And Lang. That fucker wanted me like this. He turned me into a Circ, I think. Like you guys, but different.” He stared at Doc. “Lang acted like that Elliot Pearl was some genius. But Lang called his serum EL13.” Gideon frowned. “He pumped it into my friends—they didn’t survive.”
Hale sighed. “Sorry, man. That sucks.”
Roane nodded. “A lot of our Marines died when they got the serum too. Of over seventy of us, only five survived. And it wasn’t easy.”
Gideon grunted. It helped a little that they understood.
“What made it worse was we volunteered,” Roane offered. “Thinking we’d be helping make the world a better place, we accepted the drugs that changed our DNA. You didn’t have that choice.”
“No.” Gideon would find and kill everyone involved. He had nothing left to lose. At the thought, the creature inside him purred in acceptance, needing the feel of blood over his fingers once more.
“Gideon?” Doc snapped his fingers. “Gideon, what’s wrong?”
Gideon blinked and saw the Circs circled around Doc, ready to pounce.
“Huh?” He glanced down and saw his fingers curled into claws, felt his fangs distended past his lips, digging into the flesh and causing blood to flow down his chin. “Shit.” He wiped his mouth and his fangs retreated, as did his claws. “Sorry. Thinking about Lang.”
Doc urged the Circs with him to back away. “Let me give you a little bit of background. I once worked with Dr. Elliot Pearl, back when he was working for the government, trying to enhance our military. Pearl took too many chances with our men’s health, and I quit the project. He was fired as well, but he started his own lab privately.
“I did my best to help our remaining squad, Circe’s Recruits.” Doc motioned to the men standing with him. “You’ve met Roane, Hale and Derrick. Zack and Ace are outside, and McKinley’s a part of us as well.”
“Family, but he’s not part of our squad,” Roane said. “He works with General Shields to take down outside Circ influence. We help Doc round up those who can be saved.”
“And those who can’t?” Gideon wanted to know.
Roane looked him in the eye. “Those we terminate. No question.”
Doc hurriedly filled the awkward silence. “What Roane means is that not everyone handles the serum like you, Gideon. Many of those infected with Elliot’s original EP12 serum had mental breakdowns. Some turned mutant, meaning they grew misshapen, hungering only for death.”
“And some demented sex. Don’t forget that, Doc,” Derrick added. “Some weird ass shit.”
“Seriously?” Hale socked him in the arm.
“Ow.”
“We’re trying to clue him in. Not freak him out.” Hale rolled his eyes. “What Doc’s telling you is true. He saved us, helped us deal with mating heats and the need to destroy when in a real mood.”
“Mating heats?”
“Oh boy.” Roane sighed. “Talk about being back at square one. Tell him, Doc.”
Doc adjusted his glasses. “Let me get back to the beginning. EP12 was designed to recombine your DNA, to make you stronger and able to heal, to sustain an increase in energy, particularly in mitochondrial production whereby increasing your energy intake.”
“English, Doc,” Roane murmured. A good thing because Gideon was growing seriously confused.
“In other words, we were creating supersoldiers. You’ve seen the men when they’re changed. Their skin gets tougher. Their bones and muscles expand. Their senses are sharper, and they grow claws and fangs for offensive deterrent. They are the ultimate weapon.”
Doc stared at him. “But you, Gideon. You seem to possess all these traits, but you have one more. Camouflage.”
“Huh?”
“You look human. Well, except for the eyes. Even your size can be explained away as you just being a large individual.”
“What’s the deal with my eyes?” Gideon asked. “I have better vision, especially in the dark. And I can sense…stuff.”
“Like?” Doc asked, looking more animated.
Gideon felt uncomfortable, but not threatened. He felt like a freak. “I don’t know. I can sense others like me. But it’s not a smell or anything. It’s something else.” He swallowed hard, instinctively trusting the need to confide in Doc. “I think I’m like a split personality or something.”
“You want to kill shit? To tear apart people that screwed with you?” Derrick asked. “That’s your inner beast talking, man. It’s good. Listen to it.”
“What Derrick means is that being Circ means getting an added benefit from the serum. It’s an animalistic sixth sense that will guard you well. You’ll take in everything from your environment, things you’d normally disregard. But your Circ nature absorbs body language, scent, sound, sight, and it puts it all into a language you understand on an instinctual level.”
He wondered if that included the need to fuck Palmer. Because that had been lingering on his mind, something he wasn’t yet ready to handle. But they’d mentioned mating heats…
“Another thing you’re going to have to come to grips with, and that’s the mating heat,” Doc added. “You’re a Circ now. That means you can only find sexual satisfaction with another Circ.”
Gideon blinked. “Hold on. What?”
“Oh, you can still hook up with women, or guys if that’s your thing,” Hale said. “But you won’t impregnate anyone. And screwing them won’t feel as good.”
Doc nodded. “A Circ can only find real satisfaction from another Circ. So twice a month, maybe more since you’re so new at being Circ, you’ll feel the need to mate with other Circs.”
Gideon felt himself flush. “So, ah, are there women Circs, then?”
“Yeah, but there aren’t that many. The ones here are all mated,” Roane warned. He nodded to the window. “That pair out there with McKinley are spoken for. You’ll scent us on them.” Roane watched him. “Do you feel anything looking at them?”
“Anything like what?” Gideon glanced at the women again. But the only person he “felt” anything for, more like curiosity than lust, was for McKinley and maybe Hale. The yellow-eyed demon buzzed deep in his psyche, like a live wire with all that power inside him.
“Like you want to fuck them?” Derrick added.
“Derrick.” Doc flushed. “Gideo
n may not be in a heat right now. And if he felt anything, he would be feeling it for you as well,” he said to the Circs.
Gideon shook his head. “I’m not feeling anything for you guys or the chicks outside. But the big guy hums.”
“What do you mean?” Doc asked.
“I can feel him from here. He’s got power. Hale has some too.” Gideon could have told them more, but he wanted to keep his own secrets. They already knew he could fry guys with a mental blast. But they didn’t realize he’d been able to predict patterned behavior—before he’d become Circ.
“Interesting.” Doc studied him. “Gideon, I know this is difficult. But I’d like you to trust me. At least let me take a look at you and see if I can help. None of us will force you.” He glared at the others. “We don’t work that way. You’re free to go if you like.”
“But we’ll be with you inside the compound. We have people to protect,” Roane said.
Gideon could live with that. “Seriously? So if I want to walk out of here…” He stepped toward the door.
Doc and the others just watched him. “Go ahead.”
To test them, Gideon walked outside the room. The hallway was bright, cheery. Totally different from the lab in which he’d been tortured. He heard the others behind him. “Can I see Elijah and Carter?” He couldn’t have said why, but he felt a responsibility for them. “What about Palmer? Is he here too?”
“They’re all here. Alex is upstairs with our people. He came willingly, I might add.” Doc blew out a breath. “Your friends Carter and Elijah have been a mite unpleasant. Carter’s abilities make it imperative we separate him from others.”
“Keep Elijah away too if you value your team.” Gideon hadn’t meant to warn them, but he found he liked Doc. The Circs still bothered him, because they’d defeated him once. But he took comfort in the fact it had taken several to knock him out. Cheating with guns. His inner beast gave a contemptuous snort. He’d have clobbered them individually in the ring.