Circe's Recruits 4: Hale (2 page)

The mutant hit the wall behind him, and something shattered all over the floor.

Roane's bellow signified trouble, probably more mutants in the house. Knowing how strong the fuckers were, Hale didn't hesitate to run past this one down the stairs, though he knew it would follow him.

He found Roane under attack, two normal-looking rogues circling him. Roane too had
changed
and now stood a head taller, thicker, and a hell of a lot angrier than he had been several minutes ago.

“Not the right Paige, eh?” Roane snarled at Hale, then broke one of the rogues' arms and shoved him into the other before defending himself from the one behind Hale.

Hale immediately leaped onto the downed pair, slicing claws across the top one's throat before gouging his eyes. Thankfully, the combination of Hale's and his bleeding opponent's weight pinned the other one down, effectively putting him out of commission for a short while.

The Circs beneath him howled and fought, but Hale wouldn't let up. He continued to pound the rogue directly under him, his increasing speed addicting. His hands a blur, he hit harder and faster, rapidly turning his opponent into a mess of bloody flesh and bone. He registered the sound of a subtle
pop
, recognized it as Roane's specialized silencer, and continued to work, giving his buddy time to take on any more comers. The sheer pleasure of the battle consumed him, and Hale willingly gave control of the fight to his inner beast.

Having worked through one of the enemy, he concentrated his efforts on the pinned one and heard a few more muffled shots.

“Hale, enough,” Roane growled before dragging Hale back. “Snap out of it.” Hale trembled, adrenaline pumping through his system, sending him into overload.

Then he froze. Something…in the air. He lifted his head, opened his mouth, and drew it in, a faint taste of cherry that lingered on his tongue. Sweet, sensual, and enthralling. Hale couldn't get enough.

He turned to follow the captivating scent into the kitchen, toward a locked door he hadn't yet explored, when a fist rammed into his face. Pain centered in his nose, then his neck, ribs, and groin. It took him a minute to realize someone—or something—dragged him deeper into the kitchen. The sound of more rogues alarmed him. He needed to help Roane, to protect his alpha, his friend. Struggling though the pain, he gained a bit of ground by digging into the walls to stop his progress.

A sharp prick to his neck made him wince, especially when his airway began to close.

To his surprise, the scent of cherries intensified. He automatically relaxed as layers of warmth enveloped him.

Minutes or hours later, he heard Roane's muffled voice.

“Out, now,” echoed in several pitches throughout the room, the voices of half a dozen or more of the enemy. Rogues? Mutants? Circs? Or had Pearson Labs sent their agents, the PPA? He tried to understand as he listened to the fading noise around him.

Bodies scrambled. Something scratched—the sound of claws finding purchase in the scarred wooden floor. Windows broke, glass shattered, and footsteps stampeded through the small house.

“Hale? Shit. Is that all your blood?” Roane pulled him to his feet, which refused to support him without help.

Hale found himself staring into the fun house glass of Roane's eyes. Caitlyn appeared in her mate's dilated pupils, looking sexy, angry, and hungry for another bite of her “meat.” “Dude, she has you whipped, big-time.” Hale grinned, sure of himself.

“Not me. Never gonna happen.”

Between one breath and the next, Hale suddenly stared at Roane's ass, then at the grass under their feet. His vision alternated between pitch-black and a subtle glow of moonlight that covered everything. “Wh-what? Where we going?”

“I can't understand you.” Roane muttered something. “You're slurring your words, playboy. Looks like I'm driving.” Roane set him down gently.
In the backseat of
the truck?
“I don't know what they hit you with, but at least your pretty face is back to normal. You're healing superfast, my friend. And I think Doc is gonna want to know why.”

As Roane started the vehicle, Hale let the haze envelop him and licked his lips, testing the air for another taste of that sweet, sweet smell of cherries.

The minute the vehicle pulled away, Paige Masters picked up the phone. She dialed with shaky hands.

“Yeah?”

“Robbie? He was here.”

Silence filled the line. “You sure?”

She swallowed around a lump in her throat, staring at a trail of blood that led from a small puddle on the floor, across the living room, and over the ledge of her broken bay window. Bloody handprints littered the floor and her walls. Some of it had been
his.

“Paige, you okay?” The gruff voice gentled. “I'm coming over.”

“
No
.” What if the others were still out there? She lifted her head and inhaled deeply. She concentrated, then let out her breath. “No, I'm okay now. They're gone.” But they'd be back. And one of these days, she wouldn't be able to contain them all.

Especially now that she'd sensed not one group of Circs, but two. Paige didn't know what the others wanted—what
he
wanted—but she'd smelled their differences. Another batch. Good or bad, she couldn't say. The fact they were Circs spoke volumes. Just one more strike against Elliot Pearl and his damned experiments.

“I hate him, Robbie. I really, really hate him.” It made her sick to think of Elliot Pearl as her father. She wiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks, hating the pain from sharpened teeth slicing through her gums.
Control it, or it owns you.

“Easy. It's okay, Paige. It'll all be okay.” Robbie sighed. “I have to take care of something here. It won't take long. Pack a bag and meet me. You know where.”

“But—”

“You know where,” he repeated in a low voice, brooking no refusal, and then hung up.

Paige put down her phone.

She stood still, in the center of so much destruction. A few Circs had died here tonight. She smelled the stench of death in the air, between the cracks of the wooden floor beneath her feet, staining the broken glass all over her furniture. More violence, a never-ending pool of rage that followed her, no matter where she went.

“I'm glad Pearl's dead,” she murmured, wishing she meant what she said. That she didn't only increased her upset.

Hurrying upstairs, she packed enough to last her several days. She wheeled her suitcase down the stairs, picked up her car keys and cell phone from the kitchen counter, and left out the back door. After throwing her bag into the trunk of her car, she ran back inside to grab her purse…and came face-to-face with one of
them.

One of the wrong ones.

Its black skin glittered under the darkness of night, moonlight highlighting the blood spattered on its face. Mottled red-and-black eyes stared at her hungrily, yet it made no move to approach. It flexed its clawed hands by its sides and snarled silently, showcasing long, lethal fangs. When it cocked its head, greasy black hair hung limply over the space where one of its ears should have been.

They regarded each other in silence. As she stared at the pitiful mutant, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out. Her mind, her hand, her
beast
, sought to comfort this creature that should not be.

“I want…” it croaked, before turning to bound away through the broken window.

Paige stared, unmoving, and slowly lowered her hand.

Cape May Courthouse, New Jersey

“Ow, cut it out.” Hale tried to pull his arm away from Doc and his incessant prodding. “I'm fine, Doc. Shit. That hurts!”

“What a baby.” Sabrina Torrence, Derrick's mate and fiancée, watched Doc with interest as he leaned over Hale on the exam table. “Is it always this hard to treat them when they've been dusted by the PPA?”

“I don't know that I can classify this attack as PPA,” Doc answered, fiddling with his glasses. His blue eyes looked tired, and he'd lost weight. But then he smiled, and Hale saw the familiar scientist who had saved their asses time and time again. “But if they encountered rogue Circs at Paige Masters's house, I think we can determine she's the one we want.”

The one
you
want
, Hale wanted to say but didn't. He liked seeing Doc smile again, so he'd save his bad attitude for… “
Derrick
, you ass. Come and drag your bloodthirsty little leech out of here. This isn't the circus, honey,” he said with a glare at Sabrina.

She flipped him off, causing Derrick, who'd just entered the lab, to laugh.

“No kidding. This is more like the zoo,” she muttered. “No offense, Doc.”

“None taken.” He shook his head at Hale. “And what have I told you? 'Leech' isn't very nice. Sabrina's a top-notch technician. A phlebotomist, if you want to be technical about it. There's a science to taking blood and assisting with scientific progress.” Doc removed the large syringe from Hale's forearm, not bothering to stop any leftover bleeding, since Hale's skin immediately mended.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hale muttered, just glad to be done with Doc's prodding. “Can I sit up now?”

Derrick shoved him flat on his back when he tried to rise. “Not yet, playboy. What else you need, Doc?”

“Just one more thing.”

Hale groaned and tried to move, but Derrick wouldn't lift his huge-ass hand.

Derrick sneered. “Stop being such a pussy.” He looked over his shoulder at Sabrina and cleared his throat. Turning back to Hale, he gave an insincere smile. “I mean, relax and take it easy, buddy.”

Hale scowled. Sabrina called her mate a teddy bear in a grizzly bear's clothing.
As
if
. The large African American glaring down at him resembled nothing as soft as a razor. And Derrick absolutely hated when Hale made fun of Sabrina's pet names for him.

“Hey,
Teddy
, how about you go play footsie with your fiancée and get off me?” Derrick grinned, showing very sharp teeth. “Aw, it's okay, Hale. I know it's the pain talking.” He leaned close and released a familiar pheromone that turned Hale's dick into a rock. “Pain can make you say all kinds of things, right, Hale?”

“
Fuck
. Yeah, the pain,” Hale gasped. “You horny bastard, back off,” he whispered, groaning when Derrick put his hand over the front of Hale's crotch. The sweatpants he wore did nothing to protect him from that large, callused palm.

Terrific. Roane might have been an isolated incident. But Derrick acting like this with Doc in the room meant a mating heat loomed near. And only a Circ could satisfy another Circ. His beast didn't give a damn about gender. Thank God they'd finally found female Circs. Given the choice, Hale preferred a woman.

Sabrina shook her head. “Honestly, Derrick. Hale just had a run-in with some rogues hours ago.” She glanced at Doc standing across the room by the centrifuge and lowered her voice. “He's not ready for that.”

Derrick grinned. “But you are, aren't you?”

She blushed. Hale would have praised her distraction had she not interrupted Derrick's hand over his erection. Derrick kept one hand on Hale's chest but laced the fingers of his other hand with Sabrina. Leaving Hale aching and frustrated.

“Sorry, princess. I'm just trying to take his mind off it,” Derrick murmured.

“Off what?” Hale asked, watching as Doc crossed the room again. “Off the pain— shee-it, Doc! What the fuck was that?” Whatever it was cured his desire in a heartbeat.

Doc pushed the plunger down on the syringe he'd jabbed into the meaty part of Hale's shoulder. “A little insurance that whatever's inside you won't hurt you.”

“What do you mean, 'whatever's inside me'?”

“The sedative they injected you with is different from the last one we cataloged.

This one not only depresses your central nervous system, but it's interacting with some of your Circ cells in a way needing further study.”

“Great.” Could his night get any worse?

As if he'd asked for it, “worse” walked through the door.

Rounded and glowing, a pregnant Kelly Malloy preceded Zack and Ace, her mates. Roane and Caitlyn followed close behind.

Talk about feeling on display. Hale was half-naked, sore, and confined to a damned lab table. At least Doc and Sabrina had cleaned him up so he was no longer encrusted in blood. His bruising and scarring had all but vanished. If not for the effects from the mating heat, Hale would have said he felt fine. To his relief, Derrick finally backed away, taking Sabrina with him.

“How are you feeling?” Caitlyn asked, her green eyes full of concern.

“I'm—”

“Oh, Hale.” Kelly leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

To his relief, her mates didn't punish Hale for the small sign of affection, and he remained in control of his libido.

“I'm so sorry you got hurt.” Kelly straightened. “Ace is sorry for what he did this morning. All you did was say hello,” she reiterated, glaring at her mate.

Ace sighed. “Sorry, man. Kelly's driving me nuts.”

“You and me both,” Zack muttered and shrugged at the look she gave him.

“Sorry, baby. But your pregnancy has us all on edge.”

“Yes. Isn't it fascinating?” Doc said, excitement in his voice. “After Roane and Caitlyn mated, we thought the mating heats would cease for joined couples. Turns out we were wrong. That anomaly lasted only until Kelly became pregnant. Now, not only Hale, but the rest of you will continue to experience the mating heat. It's probably worse now because of Kelly's hormonal surges. And speaking of which, Kelly? I'll need you to sit down with me for some more tests after I'm done with Hale.”

“I'm done, Doc.” Hale sat up and swung his legs over the table. He looked around for his shirt, wanting to cover up. He'd never admit it, but the way Caitlyn stared at him made him uncomfortable, like a helpless rabbit waiting to be eaten by the big bad wolf.

“Told you,” Roane said under his breath as he handed Hale his shirt.

“Is it hot in here, or is it me?” Kelly asked, fanning herself.

Just when he'd willed his erection away, Kelly spiked the room with her scent.

The others groaned, caught in the grip of a genetically enhanced desire.