Dawn Endeavor 2: Hayashi's Hero (20 page)
Kisho couldn't stop smiling. The others kept glancing at him in alarm, not used to seeing him so visibly happy, but he didn't care. He had his team, his mate, and his future to look forward to. Nothing could be better. Especially since Mrs. Sharpe wasn't angry at him so much as enraged at Jules.
“Mrs. Sharpe, come on. We had to do something. Did you want to chance losing Delancey?” Morgan said.
“And you. I should smack you silly.” The normally unflappable woman was on a tear.
Even Ava seemed transfixed by Mrs. Sharpe's rage.
“I promised your mother to keep you safe. Do you think I would have given you that fox if I'd known how brainless you'd become? Becoming a mercenary? Learning to live with the criminal element? If that wasn't bad enough, you've become as stupid and bloodthirsty as the rest of these idiots are turning out to be.”
Tersch grinned, showing sharp teeth as he bit into an apple. “Now that's a bit harsh, don't you think, Alicia? Stupid, really?” he said around a mouthful of food.
She glared at him, and Kisho saw those odd points of red light again in her pupils. No wonder he felt so at ease with her now. Knowing she and Morgan shared a family connection, that she was a big part of the reason he now had his mate, made him like her all the more.
He stepped between her and Tersch and gave her a huge hug, lifting her feet from the floor.
“Thank you,” he whispered and kissed her on the cheek before setting her back down.
“Kisho.” She flushed and patted her hair but didn't yell at him. “You're welcome, dear.” She shot Tersch another glare before sitting down at the table. She accepted the full plate Ava handed her, then turned her attention to Jules. “But don't think you're off the hook. Your actions were irresponsible, illogical, contrary to the mission—” Olivia interrupted with a quick smile. “Delancey's dead and out of the way. One down, one to go. Don't worry, Mrs. S., I'm sure Morgan can help find Montaña and his boss. With all his contacts and that data drive he managed to filch from Pablo's storage locker, I'm sure we'll have new leads to follow. Then we can put an end to this nonsense and start making babies, right Jesse?”
Fallon choked on the eggs he was eating. But Kisho didn't miss the humor in Olivia's gaze or the satisfied expression on Mrs. Sharpe's face. Crafty woman. Then again, she'd have to be, coming from a family that gave birth to men like Morgan.
Kisho sat next to his mate. “I love you,” he said in a low voice and kissed him, in full view of everyone.
Ava had yet to take her gaze from Tersch, who studiously avoided looking up from his own plate, but the others beamed.
“Hell. Purple seems to be the new color around here,” Jules said with a grumble. But he winked at Kisho. “Now if we could only find Tersch a date…” Tersch looked up from his plate. “
What
?”
Everyone laughed, even Ava, who had a decidedly naughty look in her eyes.
Breakfast progressed into a pleasant meal, and Kisho had a sudden urge to write about green eyes, purple flowers, and the bloom of a white, blinding love. He clasped Morgan's hand under the table and squeezed.
Morgan squeezed back and leaned close to whisper, “I love you, kitsu. But don't even try weaseling out of the punishment I have in mind for you later tonight.” Kisho smiled. “I wouldn't dream of it.”
* * *
Two days later
“The loss was unavoidable.” Colonel Ricardo Montaña toyed with his mustache and smiled at the article in the
Miami Herald
. The accidental explosion of a luxury yacht off the Cape Florida State Park had lit the early morning sky, leaving no survivors. Little of the wreckage remained. Whatever the Circs had used to blow the boat had done the job.
Over the speaker, a grunt of frustration sounded. Montaña didn't particularly care. Now that he knew who he worked for, the great mystery and weight of concern had been lifted. He could break the bastard in half with one hand tied behind his back. Montaña had been buying and selling political shits like him for years.
“I don't like the publicity.”
“What publicity? They traced the yacht back to one that was stolen a year ago from an impound lot. Besides, jefe, none of the bodies were recovered. I had a team see to that, personally, just to make sure.” Not that there had been anything to recover. Even the mutant had burned, the carcass they'd found caught in a tree nothing but ash and slime, the rot of decay sloughed off with the rest of its skin in a blaze that had burned hot and fast.
“Fine. I don't want to discuss it anymore.”
Pussy.
The voice continued. “The lab is having problems obtaining the specimen we need. Even if they could ship it without alerting the government, they have nothing to ship. The flowers are suddenly scarce, which makes completing the drug's production a real problem.”
“So we continue to work from Brazil. We pull the assets here, which are spreading us thin, and return to the jungle to find more of the damned flower, since the ones we've tried to grow seem to miss that special property we need. Making this all happen Stateside was never my intention. Delancey said you wanted it that way so we could—”
“
I
wanted it that way? Hell no. You told me he said it needed to happen here, because of a fault at the Brazilian laboratory.”
“Hmm. I think maybe he was playing us both. There is no problem at the labs at home that I'm aware of.”
“That bastard. I'm glad he's dead. Ricardo, I want to keep this far away from me. I'd rather we kept the operation going in South America. I can mediate shipping concerns into the U.S., but that's as close as I want to be to the actual operation.” Montaña smiled. Delancey had wanted to sit comfortably in Brazil while
he
took all the risks. A little lie to convince his boss they needed to be in the States had confirmed what Montaña thought. He'd not only learned who he now worked for, but he'd seen how much influence his boss actually had; and it was a lot, surprisingly enough.
Still, he preferred Bahia as well. Americans were so fat and happy. Too greedy, the lot of them. And the women. He sneered. Skinny whores with nothing to them. He'd broken more than he could count on both hands in the short time he'd been working over here.
“Then if you don't mind, I'm going to go back home. I know some people who can help us get what we need.” He glanced from the speaker to a small video monitor, enthralled with the picture there. He'd replayed the footage over and over since receiving it days ago. “I also have an idea of how to further exploit the rogue assets already at our disposal.”
“Do it. I want results, Colonel. I don't care what you do to get them, as long as you stay under the radar.”
“Understood. And the project?”
The man laughed. “My psychics are turning out perfectly. They have more problems than the Circs did, they just don't know it yet. But with that drug the lab's making,
we'll
control the feed of psychic warfare. Money talks. My friend, we're going to make millions on this, from
everyone
. My government included.” He was still chuckling when he terminated the connection.
But Montaña couldn't take his gaze from the screen. He replayed it yet again, watched as Julian Hawkins turned himself fucking invisible. The powerful Circ could go
sight unseen.
People would pay huge money for that kind of ability, and Montaña didn't plan on sharing that with some fuck in Washington DC. Not one other Circ in the Project Dawn or Dawn Endeavor series had displayed invisibility traits. The notes he'd read from the founder of the Circe serum, the deceased Dr. Elliot Pearl, told him less than nothing. Pearl had never documented that he'd turned Hawkins into an invisible warrior, nor had any other Circ ever manifested the ability to hide in plain sight.
But Montaña had connections his boss could only dream about, real scientists vetted in the drug industry, geniuses without degrees, but those who understood basic DNA and brain chemistry better than anyone.
He might be a thug, a lowlife drug lord, and a self-appointed military commander, according to some, but Montaña had been born with the intellect and ambition to do great things.
He made a new phone call through a secure line. When the familiar voice answered, he unconsciously relaxed, feeling at home again as he chatted in a mixture of bastardized Portuguese and Spanish. “My friend, I have great news. You said Delancey sold you a new specimen you could work with?”
His friend chortled. “Tried to undercut you, so I promised him the moon while he gave me a ton of facts and files we're going to need. This Circ looks perfect for what we intended. Really spectacular, according to his history.”
“Here's an added bonus: the one he sold you has an incredible ability we need to exploit.
Keep it quiet though. I don't want anyone else to know until we perfect it for use in our Circs and us as well.”
The eager voice on the other line agreed. “Whatever you say. When can we have him? I can't wait to start. I've also had some major breakthroughs on that other project I was telling you about. Sheridan Keyes's work is a go.”
Montaña ignored the wash of arousal that spread through him at mention of
her
. “I need to work out a few more problems Delancey's death has caused, but I think I can hand you Julian Hawkins within a few months.”
“The sooner the better. And remember, I need him unharmed. I have to have a workable, viable subject, or the results won't be worth shit.”
“I understand. Until later, then.”
“Call me when you have him.” The man disconnected the call.
Montaña smiled, fully aroused, anticipating his next coup. Not only would he deliver Hawkins into his partner's arms, but he'd finally take the woman he'd been lusting after for years.
Enough waiting. He was ready to have a family and settle down. And as he'd come to realize, he could have what he wanted and still play on the side. Nothing was outside his ever-increasing limits anymore.
Now, how to make it all come together without alerting his current boss. Because a new world order
was
just around the corner. But that DC asshole wouldn't be leading it.
Colonel Ricardo Montaña would.
Marie Harte is an avid reader who loves all things paranormal and futuristic, but especially all things romance. Reading romances since she was twelve, she fell in love with the warmth of first passion and knew writing was her calling. Twenty-three years later, the Marine Corps, a foray through Information Technology, a husband and four kids, and her dream has finally come true. Marie lives in Georgia with her family and loves hearing from readers.
Loose Id Titles by Marie Harte
Mirror, Mirror
Reaper's Reward
Saturnalia
Satyr's Myst
Tied & True
Willa's Wish
The CIRCE'S RECRUITS Series
Roan
Zack & Ace
Derrick
Hale
The DAWN ENDEAVOR Series
Fallon's Flame
Hayashi's Hero