Jules shook his head. “I don't know. I do know Mrs. Sharpe hired him.” Tersch frowned. “Keeping our distance isn't working. We need to get closer to the bastard and see what he's up to. Just because he might get us a few steps closer to Delancey doesn't mean he's golden.”
Kisho nodded in agreement, focused on the scene half a mile away across the curved beach. Despite the dozens of criminals mingling around the seedy bar, Reynolds didn't look at all afraid or worried. In fact, he looked as if he fit in with the seedy element. Too bad the association didn't make him look any less attractive.
The sudden silence around Kisho suddenly penetrated. He glanced back to see his team looking at him. “What?”
“Reynolds seems to like you well enough.” Jules raised a brow in question.
Kisho could feel his cheeks heat but refused to look away. “No, he doesn't.” Fallon nodded. “Yes, he does. He doesn't project, but his eyes don't lie. The big dude might have a thing for Ava, but he's definitely got a thing for you, too.” Not what Kisho needed to hear. It was hard enough to pretend an indifference to the man.
“Big deal. So he's gay.”
“You think he's gay?” Tersch sounded way too happy about the idea.
Jules sighed. “Just lead him on a little, Hayashi. Let him think you're okay with his attention. Find out what he's hiding.”
Kisho blinked. “Are you shitting me?” They wanted him to flirt, to sexually encourage a
man
for information?
Tersch surprised him. “Oh come on. We fuck each other all the time. I know he's not as fine as I am, but take one for the team, buddy.”
He didn't know what to say. Did they know he was gay? Was this his opening to come clean? Or were they hoping to simply use Reynolds's interest in Kisho for their gain and nothing more?
“I, ah…”
“I need to know what he's not telling us,” Jules said quietly. “Something's not right with him. For all we know, he's a part of this Delancey conspiracy.”
“I don't think—”
“Don't think. Just find out what he's hiding,” Jules encouraged and said nothing more.
Fallon nodded. But Tersch's mild acceptance of the idea capped it. There was something more to all this than a need for information.
“What the hell is going on?”
Before anyone answered, Tersch pointed at the bar. “Well, would you look at that?” They were too far away to give Reynolds immediate help if his informant turned on him, but Reynolds had preferred they keep their distance. Now it looked like he might need them.
Two brawny men wearing sleeveless denim jackets—in the coldest month of the year—grabbed his arms. Reynolds's informant leaned closer and shoved a fist into his stomach.
To Kisho's surprise, Reynolds didn't flinch. He smiled that sexy grin that looked like a lethal dare. When Reynolds's informant brought his arm back for a second punch, Reynolds moved.
Like lightning, he knocked the men flanking him into each other and blocked the informant's punch. Then he kicked one thug down and punched the other in the face. Even at this distance, Kisho recognized a broken, bloody nose.
Reynolds grabbed his informant by the back of his neck and whispered something into his ear.
The team watched as the grubby asshole nodded as if his head were on strings and apologized profusely.
“I'll be damned. Your boy can fight,” Fallon murmured.
“He's not my boy,” Kisho snapped, but he couldn't help feeling pride that Morgan had held his own. And that made no sense. Morgan was nothing to him. So why did his beast purr at the thought of the man defeating those weaker than himself?
Not
Morgan.
Reynolds. Keep your
distance.
“Fucker can fight,” Tersch offered. “I definitely think it's time we took a closer look at him. I don't like how close he's been getting to Ava and Olivia.” Jules nodded. “I want you to stick to him like glue, Hayashi.”
“Why me?”
The look Jules gave him made him more than uncomfortable. “Just do it. Think of it as an order, if it makes you feel better.”
“It doesn't.”
Tersch chuckled. “Good to know I'm not the only one you're always screwing with, Jules.” Their conversation turned to Delancey while they waited for Reynolds—
Hell, now I'll have
to call him Morgan
—to rejoin them.
Kisho caught Jules's gaze and noted that his eyes glinted with rage. The man had a major beef with their old commander. Kisho thought Jules had a personal stake in taking the man down, because Jules blamed himself for believing in his old boss. Kisho, Fallon, and Tersch had followed Jules's lead into the Circ experiment. Not because of Delancey, but because they believed in Jules. And they'd nearly been killed because of it.
Kisho couldn't count how many of his friends and fellow sailors had died, some from a toxic reaction to the Circe serum, others from the madness that inevitably encroached on the serum survivors, while others had turned into mutants—Circs that no longer resembled anything human and had the mental capacity of nothing more than savage beasts. There was still no understanding as to why Kisho and his team had made it. Nor could anyone adequately explain why Circe's Recruits, who lived with Doc in Jersey, had come through happy and healthy. And now all the lucky bastards had mates, while the threesome had a kid and were close to giving birth to the second natural-born Circ in history. Mind-boggling.
He wondered what would become of him, if he'd ever find that same happiness the others had found. Watching Fallon with Olivia was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, Kisho couldn't be happier for Fallon. The man deserved a woman to love him, and Kisho had no doubt that Olivia loved her husband beyond words. But their closeness only emphasized how out of place Kisho was. He'd never find a woman to love him, because he didn't
want
a woman to love him.
He wanted a partner, a male he could respect, love, and who would be his and his alone.
Kisho remembered the conversation as if they'd had it yesterday. “
Gays don't belong in the
military, son. But that's not a problem for you, is it
?” The knowing, disapproving look in his dad's eyes had forced Kisho to answer with an untruth. At seventeen and needing to hold on to the acceptance he'd only just discovered with his newfound father, he hadn't thought twice. He'd lied, and continued to lie, to hold on to those he loved.
“Right?” Tersch punched his shoulder.
“Ow. What?”
“I said, that vision you told us about. Delancey was there at the lab in Brazil. You remember—the one they emptied before we could get there? So what else have you seen lately?” Kisho rubbed his temple. “Not much. It's been murky. Mrs. Sharpe is pushing me to focus.” But her efforts gave him nothing but headaches. Because every time he tried to see the future, Morgan Reynolds's annoying face popped up. As quickly as he'd spy Morgan, Kisho would shut down, not wanting to dwell on a future where his team would reject him before he'd die, alone, unhappy, and in a great deal of pain.
Jules frowned. “I hate to push, but we need to know as much about Delancey's involvement as we can. We know he's somehow tied to the group trying to take out Admiral London's new project.” The psychic warriors who were to be the next step in warfare's evolution.
“What you might not realize is that the project has found success in a few other not-so-friendly places. We don't get on board fast, we're screwed.”
Kisho blinked. “How do you know?”
“Admiral London and I had a conversation the other day. The Chinese are already doing some impressive work, and the Russians aren't far behind. Strangely enough, South America has their own consortium. A handful of countries working together.” Fallon frowned. “Why would they join forces? I mean, what are the odds Brazil is going to bow to Venezuela or Ecuador? Got to be one guy pulling those strings. Like Delancey, maybe?”
“So why does he choose a drug lord from Venezuela to run his 'army?'” Tersch grumbled.
“Why not choose an in-house guy? At least someone who's native to Brazil, where the mercs seem to be coming from.”
“Venezuela borders Brazil, so it's likely he speaks the language. But we don't know enough about Montaña to guess at the connection. Maybe our new teammate can help answer,” Jules said, his expression grim. “If Reynolds can help fill in some of the blanks, he might not be such a waste of space.” The look he shot Kisho made Kisho groan.
“Okay, already. I'm in. I'll try to get the information you need so you can rip Delancey apart.” Their old commander, Captain William Delancey, had earned their trust, then betrayed them by throwing the team into the Circ project. The bastard had
known
the Circe serum wasn't stable, but he'd wanted only to further his political career and line his pockets with dirty money.
Now the bastard worked with Colonel Ricardo Montaña, a wild card. The South American drug dealer had connections and the means to help Delancey avoid the team. Not only that, but Montaña and Delancey were in bed in some scheme to hurt Admiral London's newest project.
Like Jules, Kisho was pissed they'd trusted the wrong man. Admiral London had stuck by them through the worst of it, and Kisho and the others intended to help him out however they could. Finding and killing Delancey, as well as Montaña, would be a step in the right direction.
Kisho glanced at Jules. He had to force himself not to flinch at the feral smile Jules gave him.
“From his neck to his goddamn cock. I'm going to rip Delancey open and make him watch as he bleeds to death.”
“Bad time to visit?” Morgan's voice preceded him. He moved with surprisingly little noise for a man his size. So fluid, so graceful. Almost like a Circ.
Kisho narrowed his eyes. Could Morgan be Circ? Olivia had come to them as a civilian, but somehow, they still weren't sure how, she had Circ genetics. If Morgan were Circ, that would certainly explain Kisho's intense attraction. How the man could move the way he did, and why thoughts of Morgan pleased his beast to no end.
No one spoke.
Morgan sighed. “I'll bite. What did I miss?”
Tersch gave Kisho an expectant look.
Fallon stared at him. “
Well? Use that charm that has anyone with breasts singing your
praises. In your own way, you're as bad as Reynolds. Hell, Olivia wants me to neaten up our
room and write her sonnets, to get in touch with my sensitive side. I figure you owe us poor
slobs
.”
Kisho coughed, embarrassed at all the attention.
Morgan didn't miss a trick and directed a frown at Fallon before turning back to Kisho.
“What'd he say?”
Kisho answered, “We were talking about Delancey. So what did you find out from your good friend at the bar?”
“Well, I learned…”
Kisho didn't catch more than three words before Morgan settled those green eyes on him.
Just like that, a brief glimpse of the past—or was it a dream?—filled his mind like a forecasting vision.
“Damn, what did they do to you?” Morgan growled as he leaned over Kisho lying on the
scarred pavement of the Sunfield building's vacant lot. “Kitsu, you're going to die if you don't
reach out. Come on, baby. Feel me.” Strong arms lifted him and carried him into the building.
Kisho blacked out. He woke to straps holding him to a wobbly table.
“So you won't fall off and hurt yourself more,” Morgan explained as he cinched down the
ties. “Sorry, but this is going to hurt.” He leaned closer, the green of his gaze mesmerizing. And
then the pain…
“Delancey has eyes and ears all over the place. That's why you didn't catch Montaña in Bahia,” Morgan was saying.
Jules growled, “We already knew that.”
Morgan didn't take his gaze from Kisho. “But did you know Bill Delancey has a thing for redheads? From what I hear, he's been partying like he's about to deploy for a year. Bastard is playing fast and loose with a lot of cash, and he's attracted attention. Rumor has it a man who sounds an awful lot like Colonel Ricardo Montaña has been palling around with him. And Montaña has real specific tastes he likes to indulge in on the luxury yacht he's been sailing the last month. Before that, I couldn't tell you where they were.”
“The ocean? I thought we'd covered that base. So the bastard has been hiding at sea?” Jules asked, his eyes bright.
Morgan nodded.
“How the hell did you get all that?” Kisho wanted to know.
“Yeah, considering our own government hasn't seen him for months. You've been here for three days and spent no more than half an hour with your contact. What the hell?” Jules added.
Morgan sat down next to Kisho and brushed against his thigh.
A jolt of energy shot straight to Kisho's cock, and he frowned at the satisfied smile Morgan gave him before Morgan returned his attention to Jules.
“I've had feelers out for Montaña since Mrs. Sharpe contacted me months ago. The key to finding Delancey is finding Montaña. To do that, you have to know what the colonel likes.”
“You'd think our government would know that,” Jules said.
“They do. Problem is, someone doesn't want
you
to know that.” Jules blinked. “Who?”
“Not sure. That, I haven't been able to learn yet.” Morgan stretched and looked skyward, exposing a length of bronzed throat.
Kisho had the distinct urge to bite down and taste that golden flesh. His beast rumbled with hunger. “Where were you before this assignment?” he asked, suddenly wanting to know.
Where did Morgan come from? What was his family like? And what was that faint accent Kisho heard when he listened with all his senses?
Tersch gave him a subtle nod, as if to prod him closer. The seduction plan. If the Viking only knew the disaster that lay in that direction. Sleeping with Morgan would lead to a future Kisho didn't want to come to pass. But lately, his hormones were trying to take control of the rational man in charge of his beast.
“Before this I was in South America. I was on another job. One you're not cleared to hear about.”
Jules snorted. “Oh yeah, I've used that line a time or two before. You know, Morgan, I have my reservations, but if this info pans out, I'll have to take back all the things I've said said about you.”