Hayashi's Hero

Chapter Ten

“Hey, ladies, let's go.”

Jules's gruff voice through the door made Kisho groan. Reality intruded.

He and Morgan had spent the last two hours loving and talking. So much about his mate he hadn't known. Morgan's family intrigued him, especially since Morgan insisted that Kisho would understand everything when he met them. Morgan refused to go into detail about their similarities just yet. According to him, Mrs. Sharpe would indeed kill him if he spilled all the beans so soon.

It just made Kisho that much more curious. He wanted to meet the enigmatic Reynolds family. So many strong psychics in one bloodline. It startled him to realize Morgan was every bit as powerful as he was, but in a different way.

Good mate. Strong. Potent.

His beast was in love with Morgan as much as Kisho was in love with Morgan.

“Don't get your panties in a twist, Mary. We'll be right there,” Morgan yelled back. He muttered to Kisho, “Asshole better not try any of that power-play crap. He's not my boss.”

“Morgan.” Kisho sighed. Well, he knew it would take more than words to soothe the inevitable tensions between two men used to being in charge. Though he was no pushover, Kisho had no problems taking orders. Especially if they came from Morgan. In bed.

“Damn. That is really temping.” Morgan gripped Kisho's erection and squeezed. “But if I take you the way I want to, we'll never leave this room. Besides, I can't have you waving an ass filled with my cum at Jules. He might be too distracted to work if he scents the two of us too strongly.”

Kisho moaned and pressed into Morgan's palm. “Come on. A quick one won't hurt.”

Morgan shook his head, a teasing glint in his dark green eyes. “You sorely need discipline.” He let go and left the bed. “I can't wait till we get home. I have some toys in my closet you're going to love.”

Kisho's cock throbbed at the thought. “Jerk.” Morgan's laughter made him grin.

Half an hour later, they joined Jules in the next room.

“About damned time. Hell, after all the noise I heard, I'm amazed you two can walk straight.”

Kisho flushed, and Jules laughed.

“Leave him alone, Hawkins.” Morgan grinned. “He's adjusting to that open door in his closet.”

“Talk about the proverbial elephant in the room. Kisho, how could we not know you were gay? You never fucked women.”

Kisho frowned. “I like my privacy.”

Morgan snorted. “Yeah, but come on. Guys know things. And since you Circs seem like a pack of dogs, all over each other all the time, they would have noticed.”

“Thanks, I think,” Jules said. “And call me Jules. You want to dick around with Tersch's mind, call him whatever you want. Me, you call Jules.”

“Whatever.”

“Now tell me what the hell is going on.” Jules pointed to one of the monitors. “There's been a lot of activity down there today. They pulled the damn yacht in, right there at the tip of Biscayne by the national park. Delancey is up in arms about some asshole named Pablo.” Morgan tensed. “Pablo Ribeiro?” When Jules nodded, he swore. “Pablo is my inside source. There's no way they could know about him.”

“Well, he did something Delancey's having a hissy over. Look.” Morgan and Kisho watched as a dark-haired man, tied to a chair, sat under a vicious tongue-lashing from a large, brutal-looking man dressed in khakis.

“That's Montaña. See the scar? The sadist is a real problem.” Morgan scowled. “I have to help Pablo. We need to move now. The minute they learn Pablo's not really working for them, we lose them.”

“Fuck. Grab the shit, Hayashi. Let's go.”

Kisho raced back to the other room and grabbed both duffels. He tossed one to Jules.

“What do you plan to do?”

Morgan added, “The yacht has a dozen armed men on board. Mercs with training, not to mention the other dozen or so crewmen. I don't know what experience they have. And then there are the rogue Circs and rumored mutants in the belowdecks.”

“Not a problem,” Jules said. “Most of the crew is gone. Delancey got rid of all but two of them an hour ago, when they stopped by land to grab a handful of women. I counted seven guards. Not sure how many rogues they might have, but I saw three of them and what could have been the mutants, caged and carried off the yacht, get off when the women boarded.”

“A little too inviting,” Morgan murmured.

“What?”

Kisho hefted the duffel over his shoulder and faced his mate. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying this doesn't feel right.”

Jules shrugged. “We're not going to get a better chance at this. I want Delancey dead.”

“Jules,” Kisho cautioned. “Mrs. Sharpe wants Delancey alive for questioning.” Jules snorted. “She can have Montaña. Delancey's a dead man. He just doesn't know it yet.”

Kisho wondered if he should tell Jules that Delancey did know it. The last vision he'd had had shown Delancey in the grip of a prophetic dream of his own death—at Jules's hands. But if Kisho told, would he affect the outcome in a negative way? Would he help end Delancey's life or further complicate the mess? Either way, he needed to come to a decision, fast.

“Hey, oh great leader,” Morgan drawled, sarcasm evident in his tone. “The last time I ignored a bad feeling, I was nearly blown up. You sure you want to just barge in there beating your chest because you're a tough-ass Circ with a grudge against your old commander?” Jules glared. “Asshole. Okay. Fine then. What do you suggest?” Morgan glanced from the monitor to Jules, then Kisho.

“Whoa. You're really bright right now.” Jules blinked.

“You can see his aura?” Kisho wanted to know.

“Yeah. Guess his shields are down. A lot of purple.”

Which Kisho knew was the color of love. He wanted to purr with satisfaction.

“And some bright white. Your boy is glowing, which usually signifies using a lot of psychic energy. But what the fuck is he doing?”

“I'm thinking,” Morgan answered in a huff. “So if you'd kindly shut your big mouth, maybe I… Oh yeah. That might work.”

“What?” Jules and Kisho asked at the same time.

“Well, if we combine what I know about Montaña with what I know about you two, there's a chance we can slip on board, save Pablo, and grab your ex-captain. You willing to hear me out?” he asked Jules, a challenge in his gaze.

“I'm always open to suggestion, Morgan. But I make the final call.” Morgan nodded. “Okay. So we try it this way…”

Jules wondered for the fifth time since leaving the hotel if he'd lost his fucking mind.

Morgan wanted them to dart on and off the yacht without anyone knowing. Then Hayashi had added that Delancey knew Jules planned to kill him. The fucker could foretell his own damned future, thanks to that stupid drug. Great. Now how the hell were they going to get to Delancey if he already knew everything?

He really didn't like this whole prognostication thing.

But he did like Morgan. Much as the asshole irritated him, he'd fit in nicely with the team.

Jules could feel it. And he made Hayashi happy. The two of them projected the same neon purple auras, so full of that rich love Fallon and Olivia shared. Which made it vital Jules not risk Morgan's sorry ass while grabbing Delancey.

Morgan leaned close and whispered, “Is he going to blow up the boat?”

“Yeah, now shut up,” Jules growled.

They watched Hayashi steer the small johnboat closer to the yacht. As anticipated, the sound of the motor cut through the quiet of the early morning dark and drew the attention of four gunmen.

“I only see four. The other three must be inside,” Morgan stated.

Morgan's other contacts managed to confirm the number of mercenaries on board. To Jules's surprise, Montaña and a few more of his men had also departed the ship. Which left Delancey, seven mercs, and two crew members on board.

It seemed obvious Delancey was waiting for him. He'd hate to disappoint his captain.

“Right. Follow me.” Jules changed; then he and Morgan crept along the woodline and sneaked across an exposed stretch of ground for the yacht. Instead of walking up the gangplank, though, they entered the water a short distance from the ship and swam around to the back of the boat, away from Hayashi.

“Wait for it,” Jules rumbled and flexed his claws.

The minute the johnboat blew, Jules jabbed his claws into the side of the yacht and pulled his way up. He landed on the empty deck, quickly tied a rope to the rail, and tossed it over the side. According to the plan, he would then wait for Morgan, and they'd move together to wipe through the mercs to get to Pablo and Delancey.

Jules called on his ancillary ability, the one that enabled him to camouflage his skin. It felt like a warm tingle all over his body. The technical jargon Doc had thrown at him involved Jules's skin cells, negative light refraction, and a bunch of other crap that gave him a headache. Jules knew how to blend into the woodwork, but he didn't know how he knew. He'd never heard of any other Circ with a talent to go invisible, and he'd never shown the labs what he could do, worried they'd cut him up to see how the ability worked. The only drawback to using his gift was that invisibility sucked a lot of energy, so he didn't call on it often. But to get to Delancey, he'd use every weapon at his disposal.

Jules pulled in his energy and concentrated. When the familiar fizzing warmth covered him from head to toe, including the pants he wore, he quickly used a nearby towel to mask the water running over the deck. Then he tossed the towel out of sight and eased his way inside the yacht.

Two mercs hid behind the bar. He disabled them both, quickly and quietly. He sniffed the air but didn't catch the scent of any rogues near.

Continuing through the first floor and down into the hold, he found all the rooms but one empty. The stench of rot and wrongness pervaded. Apparently Delancey hadn't taken all the mutants off the ship earlier, if he'd even done so at all. Jules left the creature in there and quickly ascended to the upper deck before it began screaming, having caught his scent.

He listened close but didn't hear Morgan or Hayashi. So far so good.

Studying the first deck again, he looked around. The four mercs who'd rushed to Hayashi earlier lay dead, their throats ripped out. Hayashi's work. A fifth man lay to the side, a clean cut across his neck. That one smelled like Morgan.

Jules stilled and cocked his head, listening. Where the hell were the guys?

A muffled thump sounded above him. Jules knew there was a second floor, but he hadn't seen any stairs. He moved swiftly through the first floor again but found nothing but two bedrooms, a master bath, a smaller bath, and a large living space.

Studying the living area, he bypassed the glossy woods, the bar, and the hallway. A hidden stairway still had to be accessible. There. By the wall, he saw the energy from a Circ handprint on the floor-to-ceiling mirror, which no doubt concealed the door.

He pressed it, and it slid open, revealing a carpeted stairway. Fuck. He smelled blood.

Sensing the danger, Jules continued to hold on to his invisibility and climbed, careful to remain silent.

Before he reached the top, he stopped.

He scented Morgan, dammit. Morgan, who was supposed to remain downstairs until either he or Hayashi grabbed Pablo. It figured Morgan wouldn't listen.

“Come on out, Hawkins. I know you're there.” William Delancey still sounded like an arrogant dickhead.

Jules entered the space and slowly walked to the left, keeping close to the wall. Delancey looked ten times worse than he sounded. His hair, which had once been black threaded with gray, now was completely gray. The pallor of his skin complemented the sickly tone of his aura.

The gun he held in his hand didn't tremble, however, as it pointed not at Morgan, but at an unconscious Hayashi on the floor.

Pablo sat bound and gagged in the chair, apparently unconscious. Two women lay dead beside him, while three rogue Circs stood with their arms crossed, their claws at the ready. Jules swore to himself, angered he hadn't scented them. Hell, he still couldn't smell them, which made little sense.

“Come now, Hawkins. If you don't soon show yourself, I'll feed Hayashi to my beast down below. He's hungry for a body to fuck and eat, maybe even at the same time.” The rogues grinned.

“I knew you'd make fast work of the mercenaries we hired. But you didn't think I'd really leave myself unprotected, did you?” Delancey sneered, his conceit a reminder that the man had one glaring flaw. His ego.

Jules considered the others. No way in hell he'd let anything happen to Morgan or Hayashi.

Morgan crouched over his mate, his eyes flat, blood soaking through the shoulder of his shirt.

And there, another patch on his ribs, where the coppery smell was stronger.

Creeping toward them, Jules watched the rogues follow his movements and knew the bastards could smell him. Quickly darting behind Morgan, he sneaked a wicked-looking blade into the back of Morgan's waistband. He felt Morgan tense, but the big man didn't let on anything had happened. Good.

Hurrying away to draw attention to the opposite side of the room, away from his team, Jules shifted his energy and became visible once more.

Delancey's surprised grin aggravated the piss out of him. “Well, hell. That I'd never expected. Invisibility from the prodigal son.”

“Bill. It's been a while.” The look of disdain he gave his ex-commander erased the grin from the asshole's face. “I see you have new toys to play with. They any good?” He shot a thumb in the direction of the rogues.

“Why don't we let them loose and find out?”

Morgan wanted to swear at Jules and his overeager need for violence. But Kisho was down, hurt, and Morgan didn't know how much longer either of them had.

Pablo was dead. The poor guy had been alive just long enough to tempt Morgan closer.

But as soon as Delancey shot Kisho and had his rogues grab Morgan, he'd injected Pablo with some really bad shit. Pablo had seized before dying in what looked like agony. Though Morgan felt for the guy, Pablo was a mercenary, one who'd sided with Morgan only after he saw how Delancey treated the women he brought on board. At least he'd gone out with a fight.

The way Morgan intended to.

Concentrating on anything but his mate lying so still beside him enabled Morgan to function. Because all he could think about right now was plunging a knife into Delancey as fast as he could. It had taken three rogues and a needle filled with some crap to put Kisho down, but down he'd gone, and hard.

Morgan could only hope Jules remained vigilant. A touch of whatever had been in that syringe, designed to penetrate Circ skin, couldn't be good.

Jules engaged the rogues all at once, diverting Delancey's attention, but not the gun trained on the back of Kisho's head. Morgan swore, pleased when Delancey shifted the gun to center on him.

Willing to chance it if only to disarm the bastard, Morgan clutched his ribs, groaned, and fell back. He grabbed the hilt of the knife behind him and clutched it tight, pretending he'd fallen on his hand.

Delancey didn't look at him, his interest clearly on Jules. “Invisibility. What a gold mine.”

“You did this,” Morgan hissed and nodded at Kisho. Wake up, kitsu. Come on, baby. I could really use your help about now.

Delancey's hand holding the gun wavered a bit. “No, he did this. Jules Hawkins is responsible for everything wrong that's happened. You want to blame someone for Hayashi's impending death, blame him.” Delancey's show of agitation was enough for Morgan.

He darted away from Kisho and threw the knife, hitting Delancey right in the chest. A shot went off while Delancey swore and then dropped the gun.

Morgan reached for it, ignoring the new pain in his thigh where Delancey's bullet had grazed him. He rolled for the gun and brought it up just as one of the rogues left Jules and reached him. He pulled the trigger right against the rogue's forehead.

Instead of the mess of blood and brain matter Morgan might have expected, the bullet tore through the rogue's forehead but didn't exit his brain. Shocked the Circ might still be a threat, he breathed a sigh of relief when the light faded from the rogue's eyes and he toppled to the ground.

Jules finished taking care of the other two rogues, leaving one mortally wounded, the other dead.

Morgan rushed back to Kisho and gently turned him over. His lover didn't look near death, but Morgan had no idea what the rogues had injected him with. When he sent his energy searching, however, Kisho blinked and grinned up at him, his beastly form healing the small bruises on his body as Morgan watched.

“Thank God.” He reached for Kisho's hand and squeezed tight.

Before he could rest easy, an inhuman roar shook the boat. Shit. How many more surprises did Delancey have in store for them?

“Assholes,” Delancey rasped and pulled the knife out of his ribs. Dark blood welled from the wound, and he tried to stifle it by pressing hard. In his other hand he held up a small remote control and threw it at Jules. “Now my monster is free to play, out of his cage at last. I can tell you he's hungry for blood. Did you really think I didn't know you were coming?” Delancey coughed up blood, but the hatred in his gaze burned bright.

“Did you really think we'd come unprepared?” Jules retorted, the flash of his fangs and the fury on his face more menacing than a dozen mutants. “You lied to us, you used us, and we trusted you.”

“Grow up, Hawkins. Idealism is for the innocent and the untried. The Circ project was dead in the water way before Pearl tried to bring it to life. Super soldiers? Please. What government would sanction monsters doing their dirty work? Too much risk that the American people might find out and protest. But the government's loss is my gain.

“Now everyone can use expendable soldiers to fight their battles and win their wars. Rogue Circs that don't last, the perfect weapon. A lot like today's military. Hell, Hawkins. Every sailor has a shelf life.” Blood smothered Delancey's grin. “I'll survive this. But you won't.”

“Bet me.” Jules flashed his claws, but instead of finishing Delancey, he grabbed Kisho and pulled him to his feet. Then he helped hold Morgan upright. When Morgan wavered, Jules propped him up on one side while Kisho held him on the other.

The mutant's raging screams grew louder as it trudged up the stairs.

Delancey's shrill, maniacal laughter made the skin on the back of Morgan's neck crawl.

“You're going to die, and I'm going to watch.”

Morgan flinched at the sight of the creature that stepped through the doorway. The thing didn't even look human. From what he knew of mutant Circs, they were once men turned into Circs by the Circe serum. But they mutated from rogue status into something far worse when they didn't get the mates or hormones needed to sate their growing hungers. Some rogues turned faster than others, while others simply manifested themselves straight from the second evolution of the serum.

This mutant had jet-black skin. Its knee joints were reversed, and its spine curved into a literal S. Long fingers that had melded together gave it a three-clawed appearance. When it opened its mouth to hiss a warning, two rows of sharp teeth filled its misshapen lower jaw. A forked tongue flicked at them, and it stared through bloodred eyes without pupils. Morgan didn't see ears, just small holes where they should have been. It was devoid of hair, and its genitalia, if that's what that mess at the juncture of its legs could be called, was monstrously large and spiked.

“Good Christ,” he muttered and blinked, alarmed to feel dizzy.

“Shit, Hayashi. He's losing blood. We need to go,” Jules said.

“Kill them!” Delancey pointed at the Circs.

But the mutant didn't move. It looked at Delancey with evil intent.

“The thing you never understood, Bill,” Kisho explained, “is that underneath all the monstrous bone and blood, beneath the hunger and the need, is a man. He's gone, but some part of him remembers what he was, and what you did. We all knew you were the one to blame when the Circ project went south. And we never forgot.”

To Morgan's shock, the thing looked like it understood. It turned its attention from them to Delancey and smacked its hideous lips in hunger.

“Have at it.” Jules chuckled. “You should have asked me to kill you. Because what it's going to put you through will be worse than anything you can imagine.”

“No, wait.” Delancey's eyes widened, and he shook his head, screaming at the mutant to stop moving when it slowly dragged itself closer. “You can't do this to me! Wait! You're the one, Hawkins. It was always you who killed me! I never saw this!” Jules and Kisho walked Morgan out of the way of the mutant and down the stairs.

Morgan heard Delancey's terrified cry and the creature's grunts of satisfaction.

“Hell. You think it's fucking him or eating him?” he asked, his tongue thick in his mouth.

“I hope both,” Jules answered.

Kisho stopped them and looked hard at Morgan. “Shit. Come on, Morgan. You're okay.

Jules?”

“Oh man. He's going green. Kisho, take him off the boat and hurry. You planted the explosives all over the yacht, right?”

Kisho nodded, or at least, Morgan thought he did. Everything started to turn hazy. Alicia would be so pissed if she knew he'd ignored his instincts again.

“No, she'll be okay. You'll be okay, baby,” Kisho said.

“Reading my mind?”

“You said that out loud. Trust me. She'll understand when she knows you might have ignored your instincts, but you trusted your mate.”

Morgan wanted to grin, but Kisho lifted him in his arms. The pain sucked his breath away.

Jules hurried with them to the gangplank. “I'll do one more sweep. Get him to the van, wait two minutes, then blow this fucking boat sky high.”

Morgan passed out.

When he came to, he lay sprawled over Kisho in the back of the large van they'd rented.

Kisho's hand was on his chest. Up front, Jules drove.

They hit another bump, and Morgan moaned. “What happened?”

“The yacht blew up. Delancey's gone. The rogue and all the bodies on board are toast.” Morgan tried to make sense of it, but his body's healing slowed his mental processes. “I feel warm.”

Kisho leaned down, kissed him, then swept Morgan's hair off his forehead. “You were pretty out of it, but I managed to convince you to tap me for energy, and Jules let down his guard to lend you whatever else you needed. You've been healing at a really fast rate.” Morgan ran an unsteady hand over his stomach and shoulder. No more pain, only a tingling sensation. His thigh felt fine as well. “Thanks, baby.” Jules groaned. “None of this 'baby' talk. I get enough of this shit from Fallon and Olivia.

No love talk and no goo-goo eyes. But hey, if you want to fuck again once you're better, let me know. I'm in for some three-way action.”

Kisho looked serious. “I don't know, Jules. I need some alone time with my new mate. But if you wouldn't mind bending over for us, Morgan and I will think about it.”

“Bend over, my ass.” Jules snorted.

“That's the idea.”

Jules glanced over his shoulder in shock and quickly turned back to the road. “Holy shit, Hayashi! Was that a joke? And you're smiling? What the hell can I expect next? Tersch and Ava holding hands?”

Morgan laughed, his strength returning as he held tight to Kisho.

His lover stilled for a minute, his energy suddenly tight, apart from Morgan. An odd surge of power surrounded his lover before Kisho relaxed and the comforting feel of his psychic warmth returned. “No, Jules. You have something even better in store for you. I promise.”