Marie Harte - Hayashi's Hero

He and Morgan had spent the last two hours loving and talking. So much about his mate he hadn't known. Morgan's family intrigued him, especially since Morgan insisted that Kisho would understand everything when he met them. Morgan refused to go into detail about their similarities just yet. According to him, Mrs. Sharpe would indeed kill him if he spilled all the beans so soon.

It just made Kisho that much more curious. He wanted to meet the enigmatic Reynolds family. So many strong psychics in one bloodline. It startled him to realize Morgan was every bit as powerful as he was, but in a different way.

Good mate. Strong. Potent.

His beast was in love with Morgan as much as Kisho was in love with Morgan.

“Don't get your panties in a twist, Mary . We'll be right there,” Morgan yelled back. He muttered to Kisho, “Asshole better not try any of that power-play crap. He's not my boss.”

“Morgan.” Kisho sighed. Well, he knew it would take more than words to soothe the inevitable tensions between two men used to being in charge. Though he was no pushover, Kisho had no problems taking orders. Especially if they came from Morgan. In bed.

“Damn. That is really temping.” Morgan gripped Kisho's erection and squeezed. “But if I take you the way I want to, we'll never leave this room. Besides, I can't have you waving an ass filled with my cum at Jules. He might be too distracted to work if he scents the two of us too strongly.”

Kisho moaned and pressed into Morgan's palm. “Come on. A quick one won't hurt.”

Morgan shook his head, a teasing glint in his dark green eyes. “You sorely need discipline.” He let go and left the bed. “I can't wait till we get home. I have some toys in my closet you're going to love.”

Kisho's cock throbbed at the thought. “Jerk.” Morgan's laughter made him grin.

Half an hour later, they joined Jules in the next room.

“About damned time. Hell, after all the noise I heard, I'm amazed you two can walk straight.”

Kisho flushed, and Jules laughed.

“Leave him alone, Hawkins.” Morgan grinned. “He's adjusting to that open door in his closet.”

“Talk about the proverbial elephant in the room. Kisho, how could we not know you were gay? You never fucked women.”

Kisho frowned. “I like my privacy.”

Morgan snorted. “Yeah, but come on. Guys know things. And since you Circs seem like a pack of dogs, all over each other all the time, they would have noticed.”

“Thanks, I think,” Jules said. “And call me Jules. You want to dick around with Tersch's mind, call him whatever you want. Me, you call Jules.”

“Whatever.”

“Now tell me what the hell is going on.” Jules pointed to one of the monitors. “There's been a lot of activity down there today. They pulled the damn yacht in, right there at the tip of Biscayne by the national park. Delancey is up in arms about some asshole named Pablo.” Morgan tensed. “Pablo Ribeiro?” When Jules nodded, he swore. “Pablo is my inside source. There's no way they could know about him.”

“Well, he did something Delancey's having a hissy over. Look.” Morgan and Kisho watched as a dark-haired man, tied to a chair, sat under a vicious tongue-lashing from a large, brutal-looking man dressed in khakis.

“That's Montaña. See the scar? The sadist is a real problem.” Morgan scowled. “I have to help Pablo. We need to move now. The minute they learn Pablo's not really working for them, we lose them.”

“Fuck. Grab the shit, Hayashi. Let's go.”

Kisho raced back to the other room and grabbed both duffels. He tossed one to Jules.

“What do you plan to do?”

Morgan added, “The yacht has a dozen armed men on board. Mercs with training, not to mention the other dozen or so crewmen. I don't know what experience they have. And then there are the rogue Circs and rumored mutants in the belowdecks.”

“Not a problem,” Jules said. “Most of the crew is gone. Delancey got rid of all but two of them an hour ago, when they stopped by land to grab a handful of women. I counted seven guards. Not sure how many rogues they might have, but I saw three of them and what could have been the mutants, caged and carried off the yacht, get off when the women boarded.”

“A little too inviting,” Morgan murmured.

“What?”

Kisho hefted the duffel over his shoulder and faced his mate. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying this doesn't feel right.”

Jules shrugged. “We're not going to get a better chance at this. I want Delancey dead.”

“Jules,” Kisho cautioned. “Mrs. Sharpe wants Delancey alive for questioning.” Jules snorted. “She can have Montaña. Delancey's a dead man. He just doesn't know it yet.”

Kisho wondered if he should tell Jules that Delancey did know it. The last vision he'd had had shown Delancey in the grip of a prophetic dream of his own death—at Jules's hands. But if Kisho told, would he affect the outcome in a negative way? Would he help end Delancey's life or further complicate the mess? Either way, he needed to come to a decision, fast.

“Hey, oh great leader,” Morgan drawled, sarcasm evident in his tone. “The last time I ignored a bad feeling, I was nearly blown up. You sure you want to just barge in there beating your chest because you're a tough-ass Circ with a grudge against your old commander?” Jules glared. “Asshole. Okay. Fine then. What do you suggest?” Morgan glanced from the monitor to Jules, then Kisho.

“Whoa. You're really bright right now.” Jules blinked.

“You can see his aura?” Kisho wanted to know.

“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.