Hayashi's Hero

Chapter Seven

Kisho didn't know what to say. His beast hadn't stopped purring since he'd come hard into Morgan's tight ass the first time. Hours later, he still couldn't believe it.

“You're Circ.” He continued to spend, in awe at this marathon sex he shouldn't possibly be having. With the team, he had sex as a beast and could go for a long time, until they sated the mating heat.

But he and Morgan had been fucking as beasts for hours without a break. Ever since Morgan had subtly changed into a weird kind of human-Circ hybrid, Kisho's arousal had been off the charts. Morgan had grown taller, more muscular, and slightly darker. But his eyes didn't change, nor did he grow fangs or claws. All of him had simply been more. And his strength matched that of a Circ's, measure for measure.

Kisho's dick ached as he finished jetting into Morgan's ass. Taking turns on top had at least evened the playing field, but Kisho acknowledged he liked Morgan in charge better than being in charge.

“Oh, man,” Morgan breathed as he shook out the last few drops from his shaft and rubbed them over Kisho's belly. “I think we're okay now. I hope,” he muttered. “Is this normal for you guys?”

“No. I don't know what the hell that was.” Kisho ran a hand through his hair and watched as Morgan slowly changed back to normal. As he did, Kisho changed with him, his beast finally sated. “For that matter, I don't know what the hell you are. You say you're not Circ, but you are.

You call me kitsu, and I've seen you in my dreams for years.” And how it never ended well. “I need answers.”

“I need answers, mate,” Morgan said with a smile.

Kisho smiled back without meaning to. “Anyone ever tell you you're obnoxious?”

“All the time.” Morgan lifted himself off Kisho and headed to the shower.

Kisho joined him. They didn't speak as they cleaned up. But even the soap couldn't mask their combined scent.

Morgan sighed and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. “Your scent goes straight to my head, you know?” He slicked back the water from his hair and stepped closer to Kisho.

He stood taller and had broader shoulders. When he backed Kisho to the wall, Kisho stared into his eyes, aware of a deep sense of belonging that should have scared him. After all, Morgan featured in every one of his visions involving his own death. But he couldn't find the desire to move away.

Morgan slowly leaned closer until they were a breath apart. “You ran, kitsu, but you couldn't hide. I came for you, and I finally have what's mine.” The words sounded familiar, but Kisho couldn't think because Morgan kissed him.

Different from the other touches they'd shared, Morgan's mouth comforted, soothed, loved.

Kisho didn't know how to handle the softness and tried to move away, but Morgan wouldn't let him.

“Shh, it's okay. I just want to hold you.” Morgan gathered him in his arms, as if Kisho were precious, and just…held him.

An odd, unnamed emotion caught in Kisho's chest.

Morgan stroked his back and his hair and murmured words of praise and affection as he kissed his cheeks. “That's it. Ease into it, baby. Trust me. I have you.” The shields holding anything and everything at a distance began to dissolve as if they'd never existed. Kisho tried to remain firm, but he sagged in Morgan's arms. Before he knew it, he was leaning against the man. Unlike before, nothing sexual clouded their embrace. Only caring and a genuine warmth between Kisho and the man he feared he could seriously come to love.

Morgan reached to turn off the shower. He grabbed a towel and dried off. Then he dried Kisho, who was too exhausted to move. Leading Kisho by the arm, Morgan brought him back to the bed and tucked him under the blankets.

“I'm not a kid.”

“Trust me, I know. I'd never do to a kid what you and I did in this very bed,” Morgan chided. “Now let go. I have you, baby. Just sleep. You need it. I promise I'll keep you safe.”

An odd choice of words, considering four tough-ass Circs, a psychic Mrs. Sharpe, and an ex-government agent/handyman guarded the house.

But when Morgan donned a pair of sweatpants and slid in next to him, Kisho fell promptly asleep.

A gray-brown owl flew overhead in a dark sky layered with moonlight. Under the owl along a path in the forest, a fox ran, the cool wind breezing through his thick fur like fingers. The fox yipped and played, and the owl spotted a second fox with him, one slightly larger and redder.

The pair disappeared into the forest, and the owl narrowed in on a field mouse just ahead.

Before he could swoop down on his prey, a hawk flew out of nowhere and intercepted his meal. The sky brightened, night turning to day in an instant. The owl vanished, and the hawk landed in the back garden of the Circ estate, where he dropped the mouse. It scurried away, hiding in the shadows of the building.

Where the winter garden should have been, en exotic jungle of bright flowers and lush plants overwhelmed the rock-bordered bed. A feeling of peace and healing surrounded the hawk, and he gradually changed shape from bird to beast to man. Jules stood staring into a bright blue flower, his aura a visible glow around him.

And then Captain William Delancey appeared and laughed. “I'll win in the end. You'll see.

You can't keep me down, Hawkins. None of you can.” Fallon, Tersch, Olivia, and Kisho boxed the captain in, watching as he decayed where he stood, the blood leeching out of his body and falling into pools that contaminated the very ground.

“Don't touch it!” Morgan shouted from behind Kisho.

Everyone turned to see him fighting through a dark fog to reach Kisho. Jules yelled, but when Kisho looked back, Delancey and Jules had vanished. At the base of the blue flower sat a box. Kisho picked it up and looked through a small hole, where he saw Jules, impossibly small, lying still, caught in the dark.

A roar sounded, the noise of mutants and rogue Circs surrounding them. As they changed into their beasts, Kisho realized Morgan was no longer anywhere to be seen. Frantic to find his mate, he tore through the forests, homing in on the mutants shrieking at something he couldn't see. The scent of blood filled the air, the coppery taste offensive as it shattered the peaceful existence of his garden.

A garden that no longer brightened the house but crumbled with rot and a repugnant stench Kisho knew all too well. The smell of death, so close, so strong.

“Kitsu! I need you!”

Kisho bolted upright in bed and reined in the beast clawing to get out. A glance around showed him alone. The quiet in the room bothered him, and he hurried out of bed. After a quick shower to wipe away the sweat of his nightmare, he dressed and left his room in search of answers.

He wanted to talk to Mrs. Sharpe about his dream that had been anything but normal. Not a vision, but nothing so simple as his subconscious easing into REM sleep either. So very strange.

Kisho saw the future. Not interpretations of it, but the actual future. This dream had been more like a fantasy, a shaman's vision filled with portents and imagery he couldn't decipher.

And Morgan, that crafty, sexy bastard, had avoided his questions once again. Incredible sex followed by such comfort, such utter tranquility. Kisho hadn't felt such care in years, not since his father had first found him decades ago. It had taken time and patience, but Master Chief Petty Officer Paul Leads had eventually taught his son to trust and believe in himself. Losing his father after joining the navy had hurt, but Kisho had his SEAL brothers to see him through, and then his Circ family to help him through the tough transition from man to beast.

Morgan turned everything upside down.

How the hell did he know to call me kitsu? Only Kisho's maternal grandmother had called him that, what felt like a lifetime ago. Before his grandfather had thrown him to the streets, she'd told Kisho that his mate would one day find him. She'd pressed the fox figurine into his hands, and with tears in her eyes, prayed that her kitsu would be safe.

Morgan had the exact same figurine. A companion piece to the one Kisho held. And Morgan called him kitsu. No coincidence, not since Kisho had been dreaming about a man with haunting green eyes, a domineering sensuality, and knowledge of his nickname. For years he'd had visions of Morgan, but lately, they'd been all consuming.

Kisho hadn't known if he'd been dreaming or not when Morgan had rescued him from Montaña's men three months ago. And he still wasn't sure how or if Morgan had healed him.

Hell, I don't know how he healed himself from that bomb blast, or how he turned half-Circ either. Morgan's holding out on me.

Surprisingly, Kisho's beast didn't much care. So much sex had mellowed the damned creature, forcing Kisho to rely on his human instincts.

He stalked through the mansion and found Morgan in Mrs. Sharpe's office.

She smiled when she saw him. “Good. Kisho, I was just going to send Morgan up to find you. I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other day.” Morgan turned and winked. “Hey, Kisho. You look much better.”

“Yes, well rested.” Mrs. Sharpe glanced up as the others filed inside her study and sat.

Jules, Tersch, Olivia, and Fallon soon filled the room, making the large study look small.

“'Bout time,” Tersch muttered to Kisho. “Talk about lazing in bed. Damn, son. You put Fallon to shame.”

Fallon scowled. “I'm not lazy. I'm married.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said wryly. “Good to know I'm the reason for your sloth.”

“We're all glad to see you looking better, Kisho,” Jules added. “And Morgan, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

Morgan nodded. “Thanks. I feel better. Sorry for freaking you out when I healed. Had no idea what would happen, but I had to try.”

“I wasn't 'freaked,' just a bit surprised.” Jules slid an irritated glance at Fallon, who slid lower in his seat, using Olivia to shield him.

“Your buddy has a big mouth,” Fallon sent to Kisho. “I told Morgan not to say anything.” Kisho glared at Morgan, who conveniently turned back to Mrs. Sharpe.

She shuffled a few folders then put them down on her desk and looked around the room.

“I'm pleased you're all here. We need to discuss a few things. First, I—” Ava rushed into the room. “You were going to start without me?” From her rapid breathing, Kisho figured she'd run through the halls. She ignored Tersch and pulled up a chair next to Morgan.

“I have a few questions of my own,” Jules growled, his attention on Morgan.

Kisho leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Lover or no lover, Kisho wanted to hear what the hell Morgan was hiding.

“You might as well tell them all at once,” Mrs. Sharpe suggested. “I've noticed a tendency in Circs to become slightly more agitated when in a small, enclosed space. Elevated aggression.” Morgan nodded. “Yeah, that's what Doc said.”

“Reynolds,” Tersch warned. “Jules asked you a question.” Kisho wasn't going to interfere. Or so he told himself. But he stepped closer to Morgan, ready to intercede if Tersch tried to take him to the ground.

Morgan stood and joined Kisho against the wall to face everyone. “Go ahead and ask your questions.”

“What are you?” Kisho asked first.

Morgan looked at him, really looked at him, and answered, “I'm a man. Not a Circ, not some war machine sent by the government to spy on you, or a mercenary hired by Montaña to kill you. So let's put that to bed right now. I'm psychic. That's got to be obvious by now.” He glanced across the room. “Even to you, Frederik.”

Tersch tried to leap from his chair, but Jules's quick grab kept him seated.

Jules growled, “Without all the obnoxious commentary, Morgan. Just spit it out. You're psychic. When you spontaneously healed right in front of me, I figured you weren't your average mercenary. So what's your deal?”

“I was born this way.”

“You were born a moron?” Ava asked with a snicker.

Morgan frowned at her before continuing, “My family has a long history of psychic ability. A lot like you Circs.”

“That's true,” Mrs. Sharpe agreed. “The natural instinct all humans have for self-preservation is exaggerated with the Circe serum. Intuition has been argued for years to be a kind of psychic phenomena.”

Morgan nodded. “Right. But seeing the future, reading auras, emotions, and minds isn't normal, even for Circs. The guys up North don't do any of that. They turn into beasts and fight bad guys. Period.”

“That's true,” Olivia said, thoughtful. She turned to Fallon, defensive. “Well, he's right. Even for Circs, you guys aren't exactly normal.”

“Not 'you guys.' Us. That's you too, honey. Mate.”

“So what, exactly, do you do?” Tersch asked. “You healed yourself, but it took Kisho, Mrs. Sharpe, and Ava to feed you the energy. You some kind of vampire or what?” All eyes shifted to Morgan.

“I deal with energy in weird ways. I don't know how exactly to describe it.” Morgan ran a hand through his hair, and Kisho tried very hard not to stare at the bunch of muscle in his arms and chest under his body-hugging T-shirt. “I don't get hurt. If I do, I heal right away. I don't consciously do it; at least, I hadn't until two days ago. I normally just absorb the energy around me and use it, the way you breathe. It's an unconscious response to need.”

“You're half-Circ,” Kisho accused, wanting Morgan to stop screwing around and tell the team.

“Actually, I'm not.” Morgan sounded apologetic. “I'm different, yeah. But I've never had the Circe serum, and my family was never exposed to it. We're just a different breed of people, I guess you could say.”

“Different, my ass.” Jules straightened beside Tersch and looked at Mrs. Sharpe. “You specifically chose Morgan to join us. You knew all about him before he arrived. What aren't you telling us? And why does he seem to have so much insight into Montaña?” Mrs. Sharpe squared her shoulders. “Jules, I don't tell you half of what I know, simply because you need to focus on specifics, not the bigger picture.”

“That's bullshit,” Jules answered. “Admiral London kept me in the loop.”

“Did he?” Mrs. Sharpe asked quietly.

Kisho saw that Jules's patience had neared its end and intervened to prevent a showdown.

“Hold on. Morgan still has a few things to explain. Like how he turned Circ.” Once again, his lover had managed to avoid answering the question.

“You said that before. He's Circ?” Tersch rose and sniffed. “He doesn't smell Circ.” His eyes narrowed. “He smells like you.”

Kisho flushed.

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “I borrowed your energy, Kisho.” Jules shook his head. “But you didn't turn Circ after you took Kisho's energy to heal.”

“Yeah, but I also took energy from Mrs. Sharpe and Ava. I didn't think too much about it. I just told Kisho what to do, and he did it.”

“But how did you tell him?” Fallon asked. “You said you're not a telepath.”

“He's not,” Mrs. Sharpe answered. “His energy had parted from his body after the blast. He used his tie to Kisho to heal himself. Those self-preservation instincts he was talking about? He used them to live.”

“What do you mean, 'parted from his body'?” Olivia frowned. “Like he was dead?” Ava swore. “Yeah. Mr. Moron—I mean, Morgan—dies a lot. He's a real pain when it comes to burial arrangements. You're never quite sure when it's time.” Everyone stopped and stared at Morgan in shock.

“Is she serious?” Jules asked.

Tersch growled, “Just how the hell does Ava know so much about you, Reynolds?” The others groused over the confusing information. Kisho wasn't satisfied either. He'd seen his lover turn Circ, had felt the larger, expansive body. Hell, Morgan had satisfied his beast, and only a Circ could do that. Why was Morgan lying? He leaned closer and asked again, through the noise building as his team began arguing with each other, Mrs. Sharpe, and Ava.

Morgan whispered back, “I turned Circ when you were inside me. During sex. That's the difference. Your energy then was your beast, and I shared it to complete you. I'm yours, remember?”

Kisho hadn't considered that, and it made a weird kind of sense. If Morgan really did manipulate energy, then he'd tapped into Kisho's beast during sex. No wonder he'd been able to handle the rougher stuff.

“I'm not Circ, not really. Actually, you're a lot more like me than you know.” Morgan finished, confusing Kisho once more.

A loud whistle quieted the cacophony around them. “That's better.” Ava turned to her boss.

“Mrs. S.? The floor's all yours.”

“Thank you, dear. Gentlemen and ladies, let me clarify something. This is my meeting, and you'll remember to keep quiet unless asked to speak.” The wave of power that slapped at them all had Kisho shrinking back and Morgan swearing under his breath and holding his head.

“Yeah, sure. Got it,” Morgan rasped, and the others agreed.

“Now. One, Morgan is psychic. Two, he's on our side. Three, yes, he can die and somehow revive himself, but he doesn't know how many lives he has, so putting himself needlessly in harm's way is a stupid risk.” The look she sent Morgan made Kisho glad she hadn't directed it at him. “Four, we know where Delancey is now. He's definitely with Montaña. The incident at the dock that blew up involved several of Montaña's unhappy employees. They were more than willing to share what they knew.”

Jules smiled, an alarming grin that said Delancey was a walking dead man.

“And five, Kisho has something he needs to share with me. I'd like the rest of you to file out while Kisho stays behind. Jules, take the others and Morgan and go train. My time with Kisho shouldn't take long. Then you can plan to take out Montaña and Delancey for good. Once you have a strategy in place, we'll meet to go over details.”

“Right.” Ava grabbed Olivia and dragged her to her feet. “Come on, Olivia. I have coordinates, but we need your intelligence system to coordinate everything.” Olivia leaned down to kiss Fallon. “See you later.” She left with Ava.

Kisho looked from Morgan to his team. “Don't kill him,” he warned Tersch.

“I won't. I promise. We're just going to train some more. Right, Jules?”

“Right.” Jules gripped Morgan's arm and pulled him to the door. He said to Kisho, “Come to the gym when you're through. We'll occupy Morgan while we're waiting.” Morgan groaned in protest and soon disappeared with the others.

Kisho's beast gave a soft growl of displeasure because not only had Morgan gone with other males, but he'd left, period.

Mrs. Sharpe smiled knowingly. “You seem much better now. Funny how Circs settle once they've bonded with another, hmm?”

He really wished the woman would turn off that insight. It was alarming how much she seemed to know and how little they actually knew about her.

Kisho didn't answer her, not sure how he felt about a mate. On the one hand, it gave him real joy, and on another, real dread. He didn't look forward to explaining Morgan to the guys, and thought if he avoided it long enough, an answer would appear. Maybe he could explain his new “boyfriend” as a result of Circ hormones. That might work. Not his fault he was attracted to a guy. Not as if Kisho actively sought males for sex. Except that he did. Christ. Tersch would have a field day with his “fruitiness.”

“Kisho?” Mrs. Sharpe pulled his attention. “Tell me about your dream.” Yeah, best to deal with what he could handle at the moment. “It wasn't a vision, but it was more than a dream.” He described it in detail. “I can't help thinking Jules is still in danger. And the fact that the danger took place here, in our home, worries me.” She frowned. “Me too. The two foxes have to be you and Morgan. The owl? I'm not sure.

The hawk would be Jules, of course. But the flowers? The light? More exotic jungle, hmm?

Everything we've been dealing with concerning Delancey lately has a connection to that laboratory in Brazil. I have a feeling we might have missed it.”

“How? When we got there, everything was gone. We checked over the place thoroughly.

Trust me; nothing was there but dead scientists and useless trash.” The look in her eye disturbed him. A dot of red flared in the center of her pupil before it disappeared as if it had never been. But Kisho had seen it. What the hell did that mean?

“What if the lab we found the first time wasn't the lab at all, but an annex? A place designed to mislead us?”

“But I saw it, and I saw Delancey there.”

“I believe you did.”

“I don't understand.” Kisho was starting to get a headache.

“Kisho, look for me. See the laboratory again. Focus, the way you know you can.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

He didn't want to deal with this, but he wanted answers to these never-ending questions.

Mrs. Sharpe wanted him to look into the future, so he'd try to get something.

He sat down on the floor, crossed his legs, and peered inward. Taking himself to the calm center from which everything appeared, he tried to focus. But he saw nothing but Morgan.

Frustrated because he couldn't think without his mate's face in his mind's eye, he tried to go through Morgan.

When he did, he touched the magic. The pleasure, the sheer belonging he'd felt while in Morgan's arms. Their time in the shower and in bed, together, touching. Two individuals, one heart.

And that simply, everything else faded. He sat in his psychic center and concentrated on William Delancey. For the first time ever, the object of his search immediately appeared.

He looked older, tired, and worried.

William Delancey faced a man Kisho had tried like hell to see before but never could.

Colonel Ricardo Montaña was a large man. Brutish and evil looking, with a scar along his cheek, a thick mustache, and dark eyes that gleamed with sick satisfaction as they watched several men dump bodies into the ocean.

“They served their purpose, and your monsters have fed, no?” Delancey snarled, “We're stuck at sea for another week, under orders to keep a low profile until the boss says otherwise. Great going, Ricardo. You killed them, but my rogues aren't done.

We'll need more men, women, whatever the fuck you can come up with, or those things in the hold will tear through everything to feed their hunger.”

“A hunger we know well, don't we, my friend?” Montaña laughed and crudely grabbed his own crotch. “The whores, they swallow much, eh? The drug is good. Gives the man much power in mind and body.”

“And some fucked-up headaches.” Delancey rubbed his forehead, his once-dark hair now fully gray. “I saw them again, Ricardo. The Circs were here, on board the yacht. I shot Hayashi and the other one, but Hawkins killed me again. Tersch and Fallon I couldn't see. But I died. It's always Hawkins.”

Ricardo stroked his thick mustache. “This one intrigues me. Nothing stops him. I like that very much. And the other one. This Reynolds. My men know of him. He's a problem, William.

One that needs to be taken care of.”

“I thought you were going to take care of Hayashi. Fuck, you threw him off a goddamn roof! But instead of dying, he survived and killed more of our men last week. Just a few days ago, the navy tried to get them to talk. If they'd known anything, we'd be hanging from a rope.”

“Which is why I tell the peons nada.” Montaña smiled. Nothing seemed to bother him, and the animated spark to his gaze looked and felt unnatural. “We continue to manufacture the product here, but it won't last. We need more of the flower.” Delancey shrugged. “So ship some more in.”

Montaña's smile faded. “We can't, not now. The heat is everywhere. We need to take a break, let the authorities have a few of our criminal friends to satisfy their thirst for justice. Then we bring over more of the flower. Jefe doesn't mind. In fact, he agrees. By early April, we'll be set for a broader distribution. Oh, and Chung Hee Park wants in.”

“The North Koreans? I thought we were dealing with no-names and a few third world countries.”

“Not anymore. Not now that we know the formula really works and the repercussions of a traumatic death no longer worry us.”

“True. I've just had some bad headaches, but nothing worse than an erection that won't quit.”

“Yes, that little item was my idea. Nothing like coming into knowledge while coming, eh?” Delancey snorted. “So you talked to the big boss. What did he say? Did he mention me?” The vision started to fade.

“No, but I finally met him in person. You won't believe who we've been working for all this time.”

“Who, Ricardo? Is it—” Outside noise made it hard to hear him.

Ricardo smiled and fingered the scar along his cheek. “No. It's actually…” Kisho swore as he roused before he gleaned anything else.

“Well?” Mrs. Sharpe asked.

“They've perfected the formula.”

She sighed. “I was afraid of that. Now we not only have to fight criminals from other countries, but psychic terrorists as well. We need to eliminate the lab concocting the drug.”

“They're making the stuff here, on U.S. soil,” Kisho said, thinking fast. “But they need a flower from their lab in Brazil. You're right. We missed the main lab the first time. We need to go back. I'll look again and see if I can find—”

“No. Not yet. First we find and eliminate Delancey and Montaña. Then we work on the rest. Trust me, I'll make Delancey share every bit of information he knows.” He had no doubt she could. “I also heard them talk about a boss. They're clearly working for someone else, a shadow Montaña recently saw. But before I could find out who it was, the vision left me.”

She nodded. “You're not meant to know yet. Like I keep reminding you, the future isn't written in stone. Some things have to unfold as they are. And those you can't see.” He'd often thought the same. Kisho rolled his neck, feeling uncomfortably stiff. “Man, that hurts.”

“You've been deep for two hours. Of course you're stiff.”

“Two hours?” He started. “I've never had a vision that long.” A few minutes, half an hour at most. What the hell? Two hours?

Her satisfaction should have bothered him, because there was something in her smile that agitated his beast. “But now that you've mated, you'll find information flows when you need it.

You'll have an easier time accessing your abilities, Kisho. Just accept Morgan, and everything will work out as it's meant to.”

Shit. Morgan. He'd been alone with the team for two hours. Kisho could only pray he hadn't pissed off the entire team. Fallon would play nice, because Olivia liked Morgan. And Jules would keep Tersch in line.

If he wanted to.