“Why don't we let them loose and find out?”
Morgan wanted to swear at Jules and his overeager need for violence. But Kisho was down, hurt, and Morgan didn't know how much longer either of them had.
Pablo was dead. The poor guy had been alive just long enough to tempt Morgan closer.
But as soon as Delancey shot Kisho and had his rogues grab Morgan, he'd injected Pablo with some really bad shit. Pablo had seized before dying in what looked like agony. Though Morgan felt for the guy, Pablo was a mercenary, one who'd sided with Morgan only after he saw how Delancey treated the women he brought on board. At least he'd gone out with a fight.
The way Morgan intended to.
Concentrating on anything but his mate lying so still beside him enabled Morgan to function. Because all he could think about right now was plunging a knife into Delancey as fast as he could. It had taken three rogues and a needle filled with some crap to put Kisho down, but down he'd gone, and hard.
Morgan could only hope Jules remained vigilant. A touch of whatever had been in that syringe, designed to penetrate Circ skin, couldn't be good.
Jules engaged the rogues all at once, diverting Delancey's attention, but not the gun trained on the back of Kisho's head. Morgan swore, pleased when Delancey shifted the gun to center on him.
Willing to chance it if only to disarm the bastard, Morgan clutched his ribs, groaned, and fell back. He grabbed the hilt of the knife behind him and clutched it tight, pretending he'd fallen on his hand.
Delancey didn't look at him, his interest clearly on Jules. “Invisibility. What a gold mine.”
“You did this,” Morgan hissed and nodded at Kisho. Wake up, kitsu. Come on, baby. I could really use your help about now.
Delancey's hand holding the gun wavered a bit. “No, he did this. Jules Hawkins is responsible for everything wrong that's happened. You want to blame someone for Hayashi's impending death, blame him.” Delancey's show of agitation was enough for Morgan.
He darted away from Kisho and threw the knife, hitting Delancey right in the chest. A shot went off while Delancey swore and then dropped the gun.
Morgan reached for it, ignoring the new pain in his thigh where Delancey's bullet had grazed him. He rolled for the gun and brought it up just as one of the rogues left Jules and reached him. He pulled the trigger right against the rogue's forehead.
Instead of the mess of blood and brain matter Morgan might have expected, the bullet tore through the rogue's forehead but didn't exit his brain. Shocked the Circ might still be a threat, he breathed a sigh of relief when the light faded from the rogue's eyes and he toppled to the ground.
Jules finished taking care of the other two rogues, leaving one mortally wounded, the other dead.
Morgan rushed back to Kisho and gently turned him over. His lover didn't look near death, but Morgan had no idea what the rogues had injected him with. When he sent his energy searching, however, Kisho blinked and grinned up at him, his beastly form healing the small bruises on his body as Morgan watched.
“Thank God.” He reached for Kisho's hand and squeezed tight.
Before he could rest easy, an inhuman roar shook the boat. Shit. How many more surprises did Delancey have in store for them?
“Assholes,” Delancey rasped and pulled the knife out of his ribs. Dark blood welled from the wound, and he tried to stifle it by pressing hard. In his other hand he held up a small remote control and threw it at Jules. “Now my monster is free to play, out of his cage at last. I can tell you he's hungry for blood. Did you really think I didn't know you were coming?” Delancey coughed up blood, but the hatred in his gaze burned bright.
“Did you really think we'd come unprepared?” Jules retorted, the flash of his fangs and the fury on his face more menacing than a dozen mutants. “You lied to us, you used us, and we trusted you.”
“Grow up, Hawkins. Idealism is for the innocent and the untried. The Circ project was dead in the water way before Pearl tried to bring it to life. Super soldiers? Please. What government would sanction monsters doing their dirty work? Too much risk that the American people might find out and protest. But the government's loss is my gain.
“Now everyone can use expendable soldiers to fight their battles and win their wars. Rogue Circs that don't last, the perfect weapon. A lot like today's military. Hell, Hawkins. Every sailor has a shelf life.” Blood smothered Delancey's grin. “I'll survive this. But you won't.”
“Bet me.” Jules flashed his claws, but instead of finishing Delancey, he grabbed Kisho and pulled him to his feet. Then he helped hold Morgan upright. When Morgan wavered, Jules propped him up on one side while Kisho held him on the other.
The mutant's raging screams grew louder as it trudged up the stairs.
Delancey's shrill, maniacal laughter made the skin on the back of Morgan's neck crawl.
“You're going to die, and I'm going to watch.”
Morgan flinched at the sight of the creature that stepped through the doorway. The thing didn't even look human. From what he knew of mutant Circs, they were once men turned into Circs by the Circe serum. But they mutated from rogue status into something far worse when they didn't get the mates or hormones needed to sate their growing hungers. Some rogues turned faster than others, while others simply manifested themselves straight from the second evolution of the serum.
This mutant had jet-black skin. Its knee joints were reversed, and its spine curved into a literal S. Long fingers that had melded together gave it a three-clawed appearance. When it opened its mouth to hiss a warning, two rows of sharp teeth filled its misshapen lower jaw. A forked tongue flicked at them, and it stared through bloodred eyes without pupils. Morgan didn't see ears, just small holes where they should have been. It was devoid of hair, and its genitalia, if that's what that mess at the juncture of its legs could be called, was monstrously large and spiked.
“Good Christ,” he muttered and blinked, alarmed to feel dizzy.
“Shit, Hayashi. He's losing blood. We need to go,” Jules said.
“Kill them!” Delancey pointed at the Circs.
But the mutant didn't move. It looked at Delancey with evil intent.
“The thing you never understood, Bill,” Kisho explained, “is that underneath all the monstrous bone and blood, beneath the hunger and the need, is a man. He's gone, but some part of him remembers what he was, and what you did. We all knew you were the one to blame when the Circ project went south. And we never forgot.”
To Morgan's shock, the thing looked like it understood. It turned its attention from them to Delancey and smacked its hideous lips in hunger.
“Have at it.” Jules chuckled. “You should have asked me to kill you. Because what it's going to put you through will be worse than anything you can imagine.”
“No, wait.” Delancey's eyes widened, and he shook his head, screaming at the mutant to stop moving when it slowly dragged itself closer. “You can't do this to me! Wait! You're the one, Hawkins. It was always you who killed me! I never saw this!” Jules and Kisho walked Morgan out of the way of the mutant and down the stairs.
Morgan heard Delancey's terrified cry and the creature's grunts of satisfaction.
“Hell. You think it's fucking him or eating him?” he asked, his tongue thick in his mouth.
“I hope both,” Jules answered.
Kisho stopped them and looked hard at Morgan. “Shit. Come on, Morgan. You're okay.
Jules?”
“Oh man. He's going green. Kisho, take him off the boat and hurry. You planted the explosives all over the yacht, right?”