Dawn Endeavor 2: Hayashi's Hero (8 page)

He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door and tried to ignore the screams Montaña never failed to produce out of his bedmates. “Pablo, turn up the music.” Pablo nodded, and the techno beat amped through the speakers. The young mercenary/crewman returned to the bar but kept a watchful eye on the nubile women.

Annoyed by a present he was forced to deal with and a past he couldn't rectify, Delancey motioned to one of the dancers. Her tits didn't sway as she moved, so firm and round and
young
.

A familiar hunger returned, and with it came a haze of something more. Ah, the wonder drug had finally taken effect.

“Come here and get me off, honey. I need to forget for a while.” The woman crossed the distance, knelt between his legs, and serviced him like a pro while her friend continued to gyrate to the heavy beat. The music pulsed in time with his cock, and for a few minutes, Delancey lost himself in a desire that didn't last long enough.

The price of pleasure, he thought as he spurted into the woman's mouth. A vision of bright skies and calm seas filled his mind's eye. He jerked as the woman swallowed him, and he continued to come in a steady rush down her throat.

Green eyes glared at him, full of anger and hate. “You did this,” he said, and pointed to
Kisho Hayashi, who lay bloody and unmoving on the ground.

“No, he did this.” Delancey aimed his pistol at Julian Hawkins. A monster stood in place
of the man, a giant beast with dark skin, long gnarled hair, and blazing bright eyes.

“You're going to pay for that.” Hawkins raced for him and stretched out those claws.

Delancey pulled the trigger, but it was too late.

As pain raked down his chest, he saw a pass of clouds overhead, majestic in an otherwise
beautiful, final day…

“Let go, you perv!” The woman struggled in his grip as she tried to extricate herself from his hands entangled in her hair. “Holy shit, you're still coming?” He grunted as he let her go and milked the rest of it from his shaft. The drugs produced a very interesting reaction in his body. The visions he could do without, but the prolonged orgasm was absolutely perfect.

“Sorry.” She flushed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You came a lot, and then there was so much. I thought you were, ah—” She paused.

He smiled. “Don't worry about it. Pablo will help you clean up downstairs.” Where a rogue Circ waited for her with impatience. He sucked in a breath when another rush filled his flaccid cock once more. The drum of his heartbeat raced, but he didn't care. Better to die of a sexually induced heart attack than at the hands of a fucking beast.

This made the tenth vision he'd had where he died at Hawkins's hands. At least this time, he'd taken out that asshole Hayashi. Another do-gooder with too much power for his own good.

Delancey forced himself not to think about Fallon and that freak Tersch and shook himself free of the unnerving premonition.

Pablo led the woman from the room while the other chugged a beer and continued to dance. A beat of silence settled while the music changed artists. In the silence, muffled sobs and screams sounded through the door behind him. Then the blessed surge of rhythm and bass thumped through the walls of the yacht once more.

Outside, the sun in the sky made the ocean look more blue than green. A breeze flowed through an open window, pushing past the ship drifting aimlessly on the ocean.

Life didn't get much better than this.

Delancey gripped the base of his dick and waited for another swell of ecstasy. The dancer finished her beer and stared in fascination at his erection.

“Now, honey, for round two.” Unlike her friend, this one smiled, took a shot of tequila, and joined him. She gave him the respite he needed with enthusiasm. Watching her head bob, he made a mental note to call Montaña's scientist friend. A vague plan formed. He'd work with the vision he'd just had, reshape it, retool it, and hopefully make some dough while getting Hawkins out of the way for good.

* * *

Morgan sat in his room reviewing his notes when a knock sounded at the door. Wishing for Kisho but knowing it would be anyone but him, he swallowed a sigh. “Come in.” Olivia Fallon walked through the door. Tall, sexy, and taken.

He smiled. “What can I do for you, Olivia?” He laced his words with an innuendo she couldn't miss.

She laughed. “Now why doesn't my mate like you, I wonder?” Mate. Olivia had apparently taken to the Circ way of life, which reminded him that she, too, was Circ. He wondered what she looked like when
changed
.

Her blue-green eyes subtly narrowed on him, and he reinforced the shields around his mind. “Give it up. You're not going to see anything I don't want you to.”

She huffed and crossed the room to sit in a stuffed chair in the corner.

Like the other rooms in this wing, Morgan's bedroom was more like a giant suite. He had his own bathroom with an expansive shower, a small area complete with a desk and two chairs, a large bed, several dressers, a reading chair, and a walk-in closet. Done in dark browns and blues, it had a masculine but tasteful flair. Definitely not designed by any of the Circs in residence.

The one glance he'd had of his lover's room showed a tasteful, minimalistic design in natural colors: greens, browns, and tans.

“What are you hiding?” Olivia asked and tossed her long black hair off her shoulder.

She had looks, sexuality, and a graceful charm, made all the more appealing because she didn't seem to know it.

“I can't believe your mate would let you wander, even so innocently, into my room.”

“He's out with the guys. I think they went for a beer or something.” So much for feeling like a part of the team. Despite Kisho's avoidance, Morgan's training with the other Circs had gone well. Learning how they fought and showing them what he could do had taught them all not to underestimate each other. Whereas the Circs possessed brute strength, Morgan had an uncanny ability to avoid most harm. His natural reflexes were as good as, if not better than the others, but he had a feeling Kisho would equal his speed.

Olivia continued to stare at him.

Talk about the perfect woman for Fallon. During their sparring match earlier, the telepath had done his damnedest to pry into Morgan's mind. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fallon were more than tenacious. A pair of bulldogs that never quit.

He rolled his eyes. “All right. I'll bite. Why are you here?”

“Kisho hasn't gotten any information about Delancey from you, and I want to know what you're hiding.”

“Am I supposed to reward you for your honesty?”

She grinned and charmed him without trying. “Yes.”

“I'm not hiding anything from Kisho. From you—now, that's a different story.”

“Why?”

“Because my emotions are my own,” he said gently. “As are my thoughts. Your hard-headed mate doesn't seem to respect that.”

She flushed. “I'm sorry. It's just that, well…” she broke off.

He followed her gaze to his little jade fox.

“That's not Kisho's is it?” she murmured, her brow furrowed in thought.

“No, it's mine. My kitsu.” Possession colored his words, but he couldn't help it.

“What?”

“Kitsu in Japanese means fox.”

Her eyes widened with understanding.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. Kisho had an identical figurine in his own room. He was also the son of a Japanese mother and Caucasian father. He had the best of both worlds, as far as Morgan was concerned. Handsome, controlled, so austere yet so sensitive beneath his cool front. Morgan wanted to touch him again, to feel Kisho's heartbeat under the palm of his hand.

“Oh, that's so nice.” Olivia blinked rapidly. Her eyes had a teary sheen.

Morgan scowled. “What?”

“When you think of him really hard, your shields crack. You might want to work on that.” She spoke as if psychic phenomena were normal. Then again, in her world, it probably was.

“I'm projecting, hmm?” In spite of his desire to keep his feelings private, he liked Olivia.

He found he didn't mind her knowing how he felt about Kisho. Hell, he wanted everyone to know. But Alicia had warned him to take things slowly. Kisho, by his very nature, demanded a gentler approach.

Olivia smiled. “Actually, it's there in your eyes. When you look at that statue, and when you made the connection to Kisho, it's just…

“Just there.” Morgan snorted. “You're dangerous, you know that?” She laughed. “More than you know. You mess with Kisho, I'll gut you. And don't think I can't.” She held out her hand.

Morgan watched her arm thicken, darken, and literally grow before his eyes. Claws replaced the painted nails until only the tips remained blue. In a flash, she
changed
back.

“I'm impressed.”

“But not scared. I don't need to read you to know that. Why aren't you more bugged about what I just showed you?”

“Like I told Kisho, I met Doc and his Circs up North. McKinley, the big guy? He's a little scary. The others were pretty nice.” He didn't bother hiding his smile. “They don't seem to like Tersch or Fallon much.”

She shook her head. “I've been wanting to meet the women up there, but the timing hasn't been right. Mrs. Sharpe told me Kelly has a baby.”

Kelly English, a female Circ, had two protective mates and a beautiful baby girl. Morgan had barely been allowed to breathe near the woman. “A toddler, actually, and a real handful.”

“Oh.” Olivia's expression turned dreamy.

“Good Lord. Babies on the brain. I should have realized. Are you pregnant?” She flushed. “No.” She sat up straighter and blinked. “Why? Do I look fat?”

“Not at all. Sexy, slender, and… Oh, hey there, Ava. What brings you around?” Ava stood in the doorway wearing a frown. Her hand settled on her hip, and she tapped a long finger, just watching him. For such a tiny woman, she packed a hell of a lot of energy in that curvy body.

He knew that look. “What did I do now?”

“More like who you did.” She flounced into the room and threw herself onto his bed. “It's just us girls now, so spill. What did you do to my poet?” He glared. Just us girls? Was she including him?

Olivia muffled a laugh.

“You're a pain in my ass, you know that?” He flipped a finger at Ava, who gave it right back.

Her hazel eyes looked more green than brown in the light, and her full lips quirked into a smile. “So why is Kisho avoiding any mention of you? And why is Mrs. S. so determined to shove you two together?”

“Ava, look.” Olivia pointed to his fox.

Ava turned to look, then swung her head around, her mouth open. “Are you kidding me?

That's
why you're here?”

He frowned. “What's so surprising about that?”

“But Kisho's so gentle. So kind and quiet.”

“And your point?”

Ava began laughing. “You're obnoxious.”

“That's not true.”

“You're bossy, you're a slob, and I thought you liked girls.” Olivia stared at them in fascination.

Morgan scowled. “One, I'm commanding, not bossy. Two, I prefer casual to slob. And three, I
used
to like girls until I found out men had so much more to offer.” Olivia smacked herself in the forehead. “Oh man, you two know each other. I
knew
there was something going on.”

“You can't say anything to anyone,” Ava warned.

“Come on. I'm not going to lie to Fallon. He knows everything I know.” Morgan rubbed his chin. Perhaps he'd been going about this all wrong. Ava was pushy, but she got things done. He could accomplish more in half the time by using all his resources. Kisho trusted Olivia and Ava. If they backed Morgan, maybe his lover would too.

“It's okay, Ava. Olivia, what's said in this room needs to stay between us. And by us, I mean Ava, you, Fallon, and me. For Kisho's sake.”

Olivia glanced at the fox again. “For Kisho's sake. But you hurt him at all, and I'll—”

“I know. You'll gut me. Tersch will strangle me with my own intestines. Ava will nag me to death.”

“Ass.”

He grinned at Ava and blew her a kiss. “You two want to help Kisho?” He grew serious.

“Tell me how to get through to the man I've come to claim.”

Kisho shouldn't have gone out with the others, but he'd needed to get far away from Morgan. The unfamiliar bar had an upscale feel to it, a different place than the normal haunts they frequented, where feet stuck to the floor and the stale scents of vomit, sex, and cigarettes pervaded.

But Tersch had wanted to go somewhere different tonight, so Fallon drove them here, where he and Olivia had occasion to relax.

The green of a woman's ring winked at him, and Kisho immediately thought of Morgan.

He sighed. He couldn't stop thinking about the jerk. Sex with the male wasn't enough, because Kisho wanted more. He couldn't stop tasting him, feeling the man's skin under his palms. He'd left him naked and spent in the gym, where the others had no doubt found him when they'd gone to exercise.

Jealousy flared, that his fellow Circs, his brothers, had spied what belonged to Kisho.

Mine
, his beast growled.

Fallon shot him a look, and Kisho fought to calm himself.

“Good thing you're driving, Hayashi,” Tersch said with a slur. “Because I'm totally slopped.”

“Slopped?” he asked, glad of the interruption and a little worried. Tersch rarely drank to this excess, but something had been bothering him lately. Despite his own troubles, Kisho recognized Tersch needed some help. “What's wrong? You never drink this much.”

“Sometimes I do. When it gets so cold.”

He didn't make much sense, and then Kisho realized the date. Every February twenty-seventh, since Kisho had known him, Tersch drank himself into oblivion.

His gaze softened, and Kisho patted his buddy on the back. “Ah man, I'm sorry, Tersch.

You want another beer? On me?”

“S-s-sure, why the fuck not?” A sadness filled his blue eyes, and Kisho glanced at Fallon.

Fallon shook his head. “Come on, Gunnar. I think we should get you home.” Tersch cursed and swung a fist that Fallon easily ducked. “I don't need a fucking nursemaid.” He stumbled and would have fallen off his barstool if Jules hadn't steadied him.