Circe's Recruits 4: Hale (6 page)

Months ago, when McKinley had first learned that Elliot's major detractors were in fact behind the funding for the new and improved Project Dawn, he'd been baffled.

But now he understood.

Greed motivated even those with the best of intentions.

“Ah, McKinley, come in.” Senator Kuntz smiled and straightened. “Have a seat.” McKinley remained standing, satisfied when he scented fear wafting from Kuntz's pores.

“Or stand, if it pleases you,” Kuntz murmured, as if trying to prove his command of the situation. But they both knew who ruled Pearson Labs. The stern man sitting behind the desk.

General Kohl fixed his hard gray eyes on him. “Report.”

“There's still no sign of Paige Masters, though I think it's evident she's the woman Elliot called Subject 31. The rogues sniffed her out once again.”
Nothing the assholes
didn’t already know.

“Interesting that they can find her, but you can't.” Kohl watched McKinley over steepled fingers. “What would you suggest we do next?”

“Keep an eye on her house. I doubt she's had time to clear out the way she left the last three places. We can find something there to track her. Worst case, find a recently turned mutant, drug it to control it, and let it sniff her out.” Kohl tapped the desk. “Elliot attributed the mutants' odd connection to the woman as a result of their common genetics. He manufactured this last bunch using Paige Masters's DNA, correct, Richard?”

McKinley forced himself to remain stoic. They talked about Paige as if she were no more than a name on a piece of paper. He wanted to rip Kohl's throat out and hand Kuntz his intestines on a platter. But he didn't bat an eye.

Kuntz answered, “Well, that's what I read in his files. It's too bad he's not here to report his findings himself. Then again, most of what we know of the Masters girl, we obtained after his death. Elliot liked to keep secrets, didn't he?”

“Yes, he did,” Kohl murmured, not taking his eyes from McKinley. After a terse moment of silence, Kohl nodded at the paperwork in front of him. “It's unfortunate that Elliot died before he could see this, but I think you'll be happy to learn we've finally done it, McKinley.”

“Done what, sir?”

“We've given birth to the first viable rogue. Though it will take years before the young are grown enough to be useful, I'm sure that given time, our scientists will find a way to speed the maturation process. In the meantime, we'll continue to use our Circs.

They now last well past six months. I believe Dr. Eckles has managed to give them a good year before their minds rot. So we no longer need to use the control drug.” Kohl paused. “We've decided to scrap the current mutant project. You will, of course, consent to testing.”

“Sir?”
Testing?

“You didn't know?” Kohl smiled. “The control drug is what actually creates the mutants; it turns our Circs into inhuman creatures. Only a select few of us knew the truth. I'm surprised Elliot never mentioned it to you. Granted, the Circs coming from Pearson Labs don't last very long, but while they're Circ, they retain all their faculties and then some. The mutants, as we all know, are nothing but monsters. Elliot thought the mutants, with their incredibly enhanced senses, were the next step in Circ evolution.

He wanted very badly to use Doc's men for testing. But I wouldn't let him. Not a good idea, to ruin the only real successes Project Dawn has ever had. Not until that group starts producing offspring, at least.”

Kuntz agreed. “We considered Elliot's data. The general doesn't see much of a need for the mutants beyond attrition. And I agree.” McKinley tried to understand all of it but couldn't think beyond the fact that they wanted to use him in some kind of experiment. Kohl didn't make it sound as if he was asking for consent, either. Did they know about McKinley's false loyalties or didn't they? “General, why are you telling me this?”

“I see everything, boy, whether I'm here or not. Consider it a payment for
loyalty
rendered.” Kohl showed his teeth in more of a snarl than a smile.
Fuck
. “This information will haunt you, the more you think about it. Dr. Eckles thinks he might be on to something. And given your obvious differences from the rest of our Circs, who knows? You might be the one to break our cursed luck with the drug.” The breeding program was bad enough. He thought he'd ruined enough data that they'd never get that particular program to work. That he hadn't known the truth about the control drug bothered the hell out of him. How had Elliot kept him out of the loop for so long? Suspicious bastard.

“It's funny,” Kohl continued. “Eckles found and read all of Elliot's notes. Did you know he created the control drug using
your
blood in the first place? He had planned to use it on you again at a later date. And then he wound up dead. Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?”

McKinley's world was spiraling out of control. Fury and a keen sense that warned him disaster loomed near forced him to maintain a facade of calm. He was too close to have to pull out now, but it seemed his cover would no longer hold him. He had to share what he'd just learned, but he had to be careful. There was no telling where Kohl's and Kuntz's influence stopped. Could he afford to trust Diego Santana—his only contact to stopping this mess?

Remain calm. Don’t let them see your worry. Paige needs you. Don’t forget about Paige.

Kohl picked up the phone and called for security, then hung up. “I never questioned your loyalty, McKinley. Not until I learned that after almost four long years with Project Dawn, you still hadn't given the labs one usable blood sample. That, of course, led to other inquiries.”

The head man in charge of Pearson Labs should have been occupied by the bigger picture, not with one of his lowly guard's blood work. Who the hell had shared that information? Not Kuntz. Senator Kuntz thought of McKinley as his boy, so to speak.

Despite McKinley's refusal to obey petty orders, he did whatever else Kuntz asked, especially because he could smell dissension in the ranks. Dr. Eckles was too new to the upper echelon to be much of a threat. Diego had nothing to do with the labs; he'd been McKinley's source at Doc's compound. And most of the other rogues were too new or too scared to pose any danger to him. Which left just one possibility.

The newly promoted Simon Dunn.

Tamping down his fury, McKinley did his best to sound puzzled. “General, I think you're mistaken. Dr. Pearl never had a problem with my samples.”

“You're telling me Pearl worked with you, and none of us knew about it?”

“Torrence regularly took samples of blood, hair, and skin.” McKinley shrugged. “I don't know what she and Dr. Pearl did with them. I'd assume they're still in his lab.”
With the other blood that asshole stole from me to control Circs, turning them into freaks.

Kuntz scowled. “You see, Harold? This is why I told you we needed to keep a close eye on Elliot. He wasn't a team player. Who knows what he did with McKinley's workups? And if he had that Torrence bitch working on them, Evan Dennis might even now have that information.”

“Maybe it's time I contacted my good friend Doc again.” Kohl paused. “Eckles is good, but he's no Elliot. Only one man comes close to that kind of genius.” Hell. Were they planning to kidnap Doc now?

Someone knocked at the door, and Kohl bid them enter. Several unarmed rogues filed inside, and McKinley had a moment of hope. Until he noted the last rogue to enter.

Hawkins.
Shit
. And he carried a stunner.

Kohl stood. “McKinley, your escort is here. Once Dr. Frasier is finished with you, you'll report to Simon Dunn, your new squad leader. You'll take all orders from him from now on. You no longer have any clearance within the building, so escape is impossible. I highly recommend you don't try anything. I'd hate to have to kill you before we see just how 'special' you really are.” Kohl sneered. “Hawkins, take him to Dr. Frasier. If he tries anything, do what you have to.” Two of the rogues grabbed his arms and pushed him toward the door. Hawkins and the other followed him.

McKinley could have taken out his closest captors. Hawkins, however, was a wild card. Instinct told him the man just might be able to give him a real challenge. From what little McKinley knew of him, Hawkins had been a Navy SEAL before volunteering for the new and improved Project Dawn. Tough to put down as a civilian, even harder as a rogue Circ. In other circumstances, McKinley wouldn't have minded sparring with the man. Having him here now, however, absolutely sucked.

“Move it, McKinley.” Hawkins shoved him, and he turned to glare at the bastard.

The message in Hawkins's eyes was clear—
don’t make me do this the hard way.

McKinley glanced at Kohl and forced himself to remain cool. “You're going to regret this, Kohl.”

“I already do.” Kohl swore. “And that's
General
Kohl. Get the hell out of my office, you traitor.”

McKinley ignored Kuntz and walked with the men holding him through the door.

He moved on autopilot while planning a means of escape. Without an access code, he'd have to resort to brute strength to push past several secured doorways, and he needed to conserve himself for the battle ahead, once he escaped this fucked-up situation.

The guards with him remained oddly silent, not prodding and taunting him the way most of the rogues often did with those who'd turned against the program.

McKinley took a closer look at the men and realized all of them were new transfers. All US Navy men, if he remembered correctly.

All too soon, they arrived at the basement level. Just down the corridor sat Dr.

Frasier's lab. McKinley tensed, ready to put his half-assed plan to escape into motion—to disable communications and take out these rogues before the fight drew attention to him.
Yeah, right.

To his shock, Hawkins and the others backed away. Hawkins nodded at the others, who left without question.

“They'll buy us some time with a distraction. Don't fuck around. You have to make this look good.” Hawkins grimaced and handed McKinley his stunner.

“Why?” What the hell was Hawkins up to?

“You know why. I didn't sign on for this.” Hawkins swore. “Just find us an antidote. Torrence seems to be evening out, right?”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Hawkins grinned, fangs extending as McKinley watched. “I hear things. And I owe my team. They only signed on for this because I was so damned sure it would work. Captain Delancey has a lot to answer for.” McKinley had never heard of Delancey, but he didn't have time to play around.

He tightened his hand around the stunner. “You sure about this? I could just as easily beat the shit out of you.”

“Thanks, but no,” Hawkins said dryly. “We're counting on you to help us out. The way you helped Torrence.” Hawkins handed him his ID badge. “Once they sound the alarm, you'll have no more than five minutes before everything goes completely lockdown.”

“I know.” McKinley stared hard at the large man placing himself at risk, wondering how he knew so much. “Give me a way to contact you.” Hawkins rattled off a number. “Now hurry the fuck up. My beast doesn't like this.” McKinley watched a ripple snake under Hawkin's forearms. “It's going against instinct to wait for an attack.”

“I owe you.”

At the words, Hawkins relaxed slightly, and McKinley struck. As one hundred and thirty-three milliamps of power surged through Hawkins's body, he automatically
changed
into a beast that nearly rivaled McKinley for sheer size. McKinley kept the stunner glued to Hawkins long enough to kill a normal human being, but just enough to knock the rogue out cold.

“I'll be back when I can,” he murmured and raced toward the stairwell, his mission now more vital than ever. Paige was counting on him. Hawkins was counting on him. And McKinley, dammit, refused to allow any more injustice to continue. The time had finally come. Now, to put the rest of the pieces into play to exact his revenge and complete his mission…

Paige couldn't stop staring at Hale as they drove to wherever it was he'd decided to take her. Never in her life had she felt so content. Even enfolded in Robbie's arms, she'd always been aware of something missing.

Incredible sex, maybe?
She flushed and turned away before Hale could see her embarrassment. She didn't need to apologize for her weird sex drive, one that flared every month in bursts that made it hard to think about anything but an orgasm. The stretches of lust would build, hit her hard for a day or so, then leave as quickly. Robbie called them mating heats, but he wouldn't say much more than that it was a normal-enough occurrence for people like them. She hadn't anticipated another mating heat until next month.

It had to be Hale Rogers. She could feel him looking at her but kept her eyes riveted on the rural area outside as they passed several green fields and farms, bathed in the glow of her night vision. The area seemed tranquil, as opposed to the tension in the vehicle's confines. Confusion, desire, and curiosity made her want to lash out with anger. She hadn't been this torn since the one and only time Robbie had gently refused to be more than her friend.

Ironic that Hale Rogers, a man she'd just met, was now way more than a mere “friend.” Paige wanted to make clear to him that she was choosy about her lovers, despite their recent interlude. But a stubborn part of her denied she owed Hale an explanation. Like most of the other men in her life, with the exception of Robbie and that bastard who'd fathered her, Hale was nothing more than a sexual conquest.

Whenever Paige had an “urge,” she sated herself with male companionship that meant nothing. It often took her several orgasms to reach a state of rest, and even then, she still ached for something more.

“When a woman's quiet this long, it means trouble,” Hale rumbled.

God, even his voice was sexy.

“I should apologize for jumping you,” he continued. “But I don't want to. I want to do what we did again. Several times.”

She bit her lip, wanting the same thing. “I couldn't help myself,” she grudgingly admitted. “It doesn't mean anything.” Then why did she care what he thought about what they'd done?