“Yeah. Guess his shields are down. A lot of purple.”
Which Kisho knew was the color of love. He wanted to purr with satisfaction.
“And some bright white. Your boy is glowing, which usually signifies using a lot of psychic energy. But what the fuck is he doing?”
“I'm thinking,” Morgan answered in a huff. “So if you'd kindly shut your big mouth, maybe I… Oh yeah. That might work.”
“What?” Jules and Kisho asked at the same time.
“Well, if we combine what I know about Montaña with what I know about you two, there's a chance we can slip on board, save Pablo, and grab your ex-captain. You willing to hear me out?” he asked Jules, a challenge in his gaze.
“I'm always open to suggestion, Morgan. But I make the final call.” Morgan nodded. “Okay. So we try it this way…”
Jules wondered for the fifth time since leaving the hotel if he'd lost his fucking mind.
Morgan wanted them to dart on and off the yacht without anyone knowing. Then Hayashi had added that Delancey knew Jules planned to kill him. The fucker could foretell his own damned future, thanks to that stupid drug. Great. Now how the hell were they going to get to Delancey if he already knew everything?
He really didn't like this whole prognostication thing.
But he did like Morgan. Much as the asshole irritated him, he'd fit in nicely with the team.
Jules could feel it. And he made Hayashi happy. The two of them projected the same neon purple auras, so full of that rich love Fallon and Olivia shared. Which made it vital Jules not risk Morgan's sorry ass while grabbing Delancey.
Morgan leaned close and whispered, “Is he going to blow up the boat?”
“Yeah, now shut up,” Jules growled.
They watched Hayashi steer the small johnboat closer to the yacht. As anticipated, the sound of the motor cut through the quiet of the early morning dark and drew the attention of four gunmen.
“I only see four. The other three must be inside,” Morgan stated.
Morgan's other contacts managed to confirm the number of mercenaries on board. To Jules's surprise, Montaña and a few more of his men had also departed the ship. Which left Delancey, seven mercs, and two crew members on board.
It seemed obvious Delancey was waiting for him. He'd hate to disappoint his captain.
“Right. Follow me.” Jules changed; then he and Morgan crept along the woodline and sneaked across an exposed stretch of ground for the yacht. Instead of walking up the gangplank, though, they entered the water a short distance from the ship and swam around to the back of the boat, away from Hayashi.
“Wait for it,” Jules rumbled and flexed his claws.
The minute the johnboat blew, Jules jabbed his claws into the side of the yacht and pulled his way up. He landed on the empty deck, quickly tied a rope to the rail, and tossed it over the side. According to the plan, he would then wait for Morgan, and they'd move together to wipe through the mercs to get to Pablo and Delancey.
Jules called on his ancillary ability, the one that enabled him to camouflage his skin. It felt like a warm tingle all over his body. The technical jargon Doc had thrown at him involved Jules's skin cells, negative light refraction, and a bunch of other crap that gave him a headache. Jules knew how to blend into the woodwork, but he didn't know how he knew. He'd never heard of any other Circ with a talent to go invisible, and he'd never shown the labs what he could do, worried they'd cut him up to see how the ability worked. The only drawback to using his gift was that invisibility sucked a lot of energy, so he didn't call on it often. But to get to Delancey, he'd use every weapon at his disposal.
Jules pulled in his energy and concentrated. When the familiar fizzing warmth covered him from head to toe, including the pants he wore, he quickly used a nearby towel to mask the water running over the deck. Then he tossed the towel out of sight and eased his way inside the yacht.
Two mercs hid behind the bar. He disabled them both, quickly and quietly. He sniffed the air but didn't catch the scent of any rogues near.
Continuing through the first floor and down into the hold, he found all the rooms but one empty. The stench of rot and wrongness pervaded. Apparently Delancey hadn't taken all the mutants off the ship earlier, if he'd even done so at all. Jules left the creature in there and quickly ascended to the upper deck before it began screaming, having caught his scent.
He listened close but didn't hear Morgan or Hayashi. So far so good.
Studying the first deck again, he looked around. The four mercs who'd rushed to Hayashi earlier lay dead, their throats ripped out. Hayashi's work. A fifth man lay to the side, a clean cut across his neck. That one smelled like Morgan.
Jules stilled and cocked his head, listening. Where the hell were the guys?
A muffled thump sounded above him. Jules knew there was a second floor, but he hadn't seen any stairs. He moved swiftly through the first floor again but found nothing but two bedrooms, a master bath, a smaller bath, and a large living space.
Studying the living area, he bypassed the glossy woods, the bar, and the hallway. A hidden stairway still had to be accessible. There. By the wall, he saw the energy from a Circ handprint on the floor-to-ceiling mirror, which no doubt concealed the door.
He pressed it, and it slid open, revealing a carpeted stairway. Fuck. He smelled blood.
Sensing the danger, Jules continued to hold on to his invisibility and climbed, careful to remain silent.
Before he reached the top, he stopped.
He scented Morgan, dammit. Morgan, who was supposed to remain downstairs until either he or Hayashi grabbed Pablo. It figured Morgan wouldn't listen.
“Come on out, Hawkins. I know you're there.” William Delancey still sounded like an arrogant dickhead.
Jules entered the space and slowly walked to the left, keeping close to the wall. Delancey looked ten times worse than he sounded. His hair, which had once been black threaded with gray, now was completely gray. The pallor of his skin complemented the sickly tone of his aura.
The gun he held in his hand didn't tremble, however, as it pointed not at Morgan, but at an unconscious Hayashi on the floor.
Pablo sat bound and gagged in the chair, apparently unconscious. Two women lay dead beside him, while three rogue Circs stood with their arms crossed, their claws at the ready. Jules swore to himself, angered he hadn't scented them. Hell, he still couldn't smell them, which made little sense.
“Come now, Hawkins. If you don't soon show yourself, I'll feed Hayashi to my beast down below. He's hungry for a body to fuck and eat, maybe even at the same time.” The rogues grinned.
“I knew you'd make fast work of the mercenaries we hired. But you didn't think I'd really leave myself unprotected, did you?” Delancey sneered, his conceit a reminder that the man had one glaring flaw. His ego.
Jules considered the others. No way in hell he'd let anything happen to Morgan or Hayashi.
Morgan crouched over his mate, his eyes flat, blood soaking through the shoulder of his shirt.
And there, another patch on his ribs, where the coppery smell was stronger.
Creeping toward them, Jules watched the rogues follow his movements and knew the bastards could smell him. Quickly darting behind Morgan, he sneaked a wicked-looking blade into the back of Morgan's waistband. He felt Morgan tense, but the big man didn't let on anything had happened. Good.
Hurrying away to draw attention to the opposite side of the room, away from his team, Jules shifted his energy and became visible once more.
Delancey's surprised grin aggravated the piss out of him. “Well, hell. That I'd never expected. Invisibility from the prodigal son.”
“Bill. It's been a while.” The look of disdain he gave his ex-commander erased the grin from the asshole's face. “I see you have new toys to play with. They any good?” He shot a thumb in the direction of the rogues.