Dawn Endeavor 1: Fallon's Flame Marie Harte (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖

“Unless they want something we have,” Ava added quietly, her gaze on Olivia.

“Considering the rogues and mutants you ran into, and the fact that the drug we're after doesn't work on Circs period, it's likely whoever's running the labs has a Circ agenda.” Jules nodded. “That makes sense. Just because Elliot Pearl is dead and Pearson Labs destroyed, that doesn't mean his research is at a standstill. He had plenty of scientists working for him over the years leading up to Project Dawn. How do we know one of them didn't start his or her own private research?”

“Or that Pearl didn't make some deals no one knew about when he was alive,” Jesse added.

“He might have a few projects ongoing, even posthumously. And let's not forget Olivia. She's a Circ, but where did she come from?”

“That confuses me too. I've never had any weirdo treatments in my life. Nothing experimental.”

“That you knew of,” Gunnar said. “That's how they infected Sabrina Packard. Drugged her and called it a vaccine.”

“Who?”

“She's a female Circ, but she worked with Elliot Pearl,” Mrs. Sharpe answered. “Olivia's medical records and the interview we had with her uncle and aunt checked out. She's clean.” Talk about extensive research. Olivia had a hard time understanding how this could be possible, despite knowing the truth. “So, what? I'm a natural Circ? Born this way?”

“Your father was in the navy,” Jesse said slowly. “What if Pearl's original Circs didn't start at Project Dawn, but earlier?”

Everyone quieted.

“A scary thought,” Ava murmured.

“Yes, and something we need to look into. But right now we need to find Kisho.” Mrs.

Sharpe took charge. Ava went in search of Melissa and Jack. The men left to go looking for Kisho. Mrs. Sharpe made phone calls.

Olivia didn't know what to do or what to think.

“Call Jaime and Belinda. I need to talk to them pronto,” Mrs. Sharpe ordered. She tilted her head to cradle the phone in her ear and tapped her temple with a long-fingered hand. The light-colored polish on her nails flashed in the light, and it just clicked.

Her familiarity suddenly made incredible, impossible sense.

“You…you can't be…”

Mrs. Sharpe smiled. “Can't I? Now make the call, dear. We don't have time to waste.”

* * *

Fallon sent out mental calls for Hayashi but heard nothing in return. He, Jules, and Tersch had just checked over every inch of the rental van they'd found parked in the deserted lot of a crumbling textile plant outside of New Bern. Fallon could barely smell Hayashi under the sickeningly sweet smell that covered the vehicle.

“The fuckers masked it with perfume. I can't tell if his kidnappers are Circ or human.” Fallon clenched his fists, needing answers. “Too bad we don't have more on Montaña, because I guaran-damn-tee he's behind this. He has to be.”

“I agree,” Jules added. “But why take Hayashi? We've had no ransom demands. I don't see them grabbing him for bizarre experiments.”

“Why not? Pearl did it.” Tersch paced in front of the van, unable to mask his worry.

“Yeah, but Pearl's dead. It's been a year and a half since the labs closed down. Don't you think if a hint of his research remained so close, we'd have heard before now?” Fallon asked.

“Jules, what did Roane's team say when you called them?” He snorted. “Nothing. They haven't heard or seen a hair of anything Circ in months. The rogues we encountered in the jungle were a complete surprise, according to Roane. Hell, they've been working real-world ops for General Shields, non-Circ stuff.”

Jesse had the feeling they were missing something. But what? He studied the textile plant, measuring the brick building. Broken glass windows around the rooftop, busted metal doors, faded paint on the front of the place. The whole mill was in disrepair. He sighed.

“We should check over the van again.”

Tersch entered, cocked his head, and stopped. Then, as if directed by another force, he reached between the driver's seat and the center console.

“What's that?” Jules asked as he pulled a piece of paper free.

“I don't know.” Tersch frowned. “It's in Hayashi's handwriting, though. Sunfield.” Jesse's gaze shot to the building. “Like the wording on the mill?” The three of them circled in front of the van and stared at the building.

“See how the s-u-n is faded, but the f-i-e-l-d is still there.” Jesse felt an itch to explore.

“He's inside.”

“I know.” Jules scowled. “But how do I know?”

“I don't like any of this.” Tersch didn't even pretend. He stripped out of his shirt and shoes and changed, expanding underneath the elastic waistband of his pants. Except he didn't just change, he transformed into the fighting machine that could withstand anything they'd ever come up against—his own psychic cross to bear.

Jules said, “We'll follow in the SUV. If he's bad off, he'll need quick transport out of here.

Go.”

Fallon joined him in the vehicle, and they raced after Tersch. Inside the building, they followed Tersch's howls of rage up three flights of stairs into a dusty office covered in filth.

There, on a metal stretcher in the middle of the room, lay Hayashi, naked, bloodied, and mending from what appeared to be multiple breaks in his body. Mottled bruising covered him from head to toe, and he had a defined wound, what looked like teeth marks, around his left nipple.

“I'll fucking kill whoever did this to him,” Tersch swore as he broke the chains holding Hayashi's wrist and ankle restraints to the table. “Kisho, buddy, you with us?” Nothing.

“I can hear him breathing. Jules, what does his aura look like?” Fallon asked, wanting to crush whoever had done this. Of the four of them, Hayashi was the most gentle. One wouldn't know it to look at him, but the man had a soft spot around kids and animals. He seemed stoic, almost unfeeling, but only because he felt so much. The rare glimpses into his thoughts had shown Fallon much about the man behind the aloof warrior he called friend and brother.

“He's not healthy, but there's