“I'm here,” Fallon sent, wanting to reassure her. “What did you tell the guy?”
“I thanked him for meeting with me. Now hush and let me learn what he has to say. That is why I'm here, after all.”
He sensed her unloading power and watched as her companion relaxed by degrees.
Apparently Olivia could do more than sense feelings; she could control them as well. To his surprise, he found his beast liked the thought of her with more power. Dominating a weaker woman wouldn't be much of a challenge.
“Chamo-me, ally from such a character as this Olivia Gatito. Não temos muito tempo. Vou contar-lhe o que sei.” The guy rambled on, but all Fallon caught was Gatito, his name.
Several minutes passed. Olivia frowned, questioned Gatito, seemed to disagree with him at times, then nodded. For his part, Gatito remained in the shadows of the trees, his back to the large palms behind him. It didn't take a Circ to smell his fear, and Fallon noted how Olivia used her voice to question him. Soothing, reassuring, and not at all the one she used when speaking with him.
Subtle rustling to his right and the scent of cedar and vanilla indicated Tersch and Jules had arrived. Across from the partial clearing, he saw Hayashi's wave before he disappeared into the vegetation. Much of Fallon's agitation eased when he knew his team had this meeting surrounded.
And then a smell that didn't belong in the jungle reached him. The rotting scent of rogue Circ—something he'd never forget, and something he hadn't experienced in over a year.
“Shit. Jules, rogues.” He stripped and changed in an instant, prepared to protect Olivia at all costs.
“Where?” Jules asked.
“I'm not—there, by Hayashi.” Fronds and branches waved. Rustling and growling grew louder, alarming Gatito, who shoved some papers into Olivia's hands before bolting into the jungle, away from the beach.
“Espera!” Olivia cried and stupidly rushed after him.
“Dammit. Olivia, wait,” Fallon ordered. Two rogues rushed him from out of nowhere.
Rogue Circs, unlike the mutants that resembled nothing more than mutated monsters, looked like him and his team. Enlarged bodies, toughened skin, fangs and claws, and powerful needs. But rogues possessed fierce tempers they couldn't control—appetites for sex and destruction caused by a genetic anomaly in their blood, an anomaly that only seemed to abate once a Circ had found a mate—and before turning rogue in the first place.
Years ago scientists working on Project Dawn had created control drugs, but they only managed to turn rogue Circs into mutants. Fallon and his team had beaten the odds and managed to stay sane, leaning on one another for support, as well as the drugs Doc had fashioned for them.
The drugs no longer worked as well as they once did, but Fallon didn't worry about turning rogue. Not with Olivia by his side. Except she wasn't at his side, and he had these assholes to worry about.
Tersch yelled to him, but he didn't understand. The fierce imperative to find and protect Olivia consumed him. Without thinking about it, he sent a mental roar at the rogue closest to him and slashed at his throat. He drew blood, but the wound began healing immediately. The other rogue shoved him back and broke one of his ribs. Fallon hissed through the pain, and having lost sight of Olivia completely, he snapped. His control vanished.
He tore into the rogue who'd shoved him, with no thought but to destroy. They battled back and forth, but Fallon couldn't wait any longer. He shoved a clawed fist through the rogue's chest cavity and dug for his heart. After ripping it from the rogue's chest, he tossed it aside and bounded after Olivia.
Behind him, he heard Tersch's soul-stirring battle cry and knew the berserker had come out to play. About fucking time, he snarled mentally while tracking Olivia with skill and speed. He caught up to her in minutes but was too late to save Gatito, who dangled from the claw of a mutant.
“We have mutants to worry about too,” he broadcasted to the team, unaware of how he did it exactly. Unlike the rogues, the mutants looked like nothing remotely human. This one had a misshapen spine that crooked like an S. Tar black skin, scaled instead of flesh. Red eyes without a hint of white stared malevolently as it gnawed on Gatito's arm. Sharp teeth and a forked black tongue flicked at the man's blood.
Olivia didn't scream. In fact, she made very little noise at all. When she glanced back at him, she froze. A haze of ripe cherries lingered on his tongue, made bitter because of her obvious terror.
“Baby, it's me. Jesse. This is the change in its entirety. That thing over there is an abomination.”
She flinched at his deepened voice but didn't try to escape when he took her in his arms.
Unfortunately the mutant latched onto her scent, as he'd known it would. It roared, dropped Gatito, and made a beeline in their direction.
“Run,” Fallon yelled and launched himself at the mutant. He wondered what the fuck these things were doing still alive and in this particular place. Especially when he and the team were here at the exact same spot at the exact same time. He did his best to stand between the mutant and his mate.
Mutants had twice as much strength as Circs, as they weren't held back by control, reason, or conscience. They did what they pleased when they pleased, and corrupted by an unnatural drug, they lost the power to think with any sense of logic, the only flaw in their design, as far as Fallon could tell.
The thing picked him up and threw him into the base of a thick tree, cracking his femur.
The pain stunned Fallon for a moment before he rolled to his feet and fought back while he healed. Olivia, damn her, hadn't moved.
“Jules, I need help. Olivia's in danger,” he yelled with his mind. “Olivia, dammit, get out of here!”
“Coming. More mutants out here,” Jules returned, mentally struggling.
Tersch's eerie growl echoed around them. He could only imagine what the sight of his monstrously large friend would do to Olivia's already fragile state of mind.
The mutant caught him in the side, using his distraction against him. The bastard pierced his flesh with twisted, jagged claws that hurt like a bitch. He roared his displeasure and cried out in pain as the thing ripped its nails out. They entered smoothly but pulled out more flesh, the jagged teeth on the things fucking effective weapons.
Bleeding like a sieve, Fallon faltered on his feet. Need to keep clearheaded for Olivia, he told himself and forced his feet to move. A glance at her showed her fixated on his blood.
“Olivia, honey, please. You have to get to safety,” he growled, upset his mate wouldn't leave. The damned woman was going to get herself killed.
The mutant sniffed in her direction and grinned. Then it wrapped itself around Fallon, clinging like a goddamn leech, and bit into his neck.
Trying to free himself from its bone-crushing grip was bad enough, but feeling the mutant's pronged tongue sucking at his neck, ingesting his blood, freaked the hell out of him. Light-headed and growing weaker, Fallon struggled for Olivia's sake. But as his ribs cracked, he began to drown in the fluid building up in his lungs.
An alien shriek pierced the air, but he couldn't see what happened. Weak, you're weak, he berated himself as he fought to remain coherent, to not leave his mate to a horrific fate. Instead he floundered in a sea of cold, dark hell, listening to inhuman screams while he imagined the demon killing the only thing he'd ever loved.