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

dawning of a new day, gentlemen. The true beginning of the navy's Circ project: Dawn Endeavor.”

Quiet filled the room as they absorbed the news.

Admiral London broke the silence. “That is all, gentlemen. Alicia, if you and I could have a few words?”

Fallon shot out the door before he caught more than he wanted to see in the admiral's head again. Close proximity to a person often increased his ability to read minds. Better for him to be far, far away from Admiral London right now.

“What the hell?” Tersch grumbled as the four of them left the conference room and headed for the kitchen. Predictably, they needed to eat. Circs had revved-up metabolism and the earlier fight had exacerbated his hunger. “This is a surprise I didn't see coming,” Hayashi said, confusion evident in his tone.

“You need to work on that foresight thing,” Jules murmured. “For a prognosticator, you're lacking.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Hayashi accepted the plate of cold chicken Tersch handed him and set it on the large kitchen island. “Grab me the cheese on the bottom shelf.” Tersch grabbed the plate and held it far from his body. “Ech. What is that? Brie? Looks like snot.”

Hayashi took the cheese from Tersch. “You don't have to eat it cold. Heated and topped with almonds and cranberries, it's delicious.”

Jules made a face. “Tersch, gimme a beer.”

“Amen.” Tersch scowled at Hayashi, handed Jules a beer, and grabbed one for himself.

The team ate in silence for a while before Tersch turned his blue eyes on Fallon. “What the hell did you hear in there that turned you three shades of red?”

“More like what I saw.”

Tersch snorted. “I didn't know you saw things. I thought you just heard voices, you know, like the crazies in the psych ward.”

“Dick. No, I don't normally see images, but if the sender is thinking hard enough, I can sometimes see what he sees. The admiral projected some powerful shit. I got an eyeful of Mrs.

Sharpe and Geoff going at it.”

“Oh man.” Tersch grimaced.

“Well, it was a memory from years ago. The woman looks good in nothing but pearls.”

“Dude, she's old.”

“You think any woman over the age of eighteen is old,” Hayashi said drily.

The flush on Tersch's face was worth the man's weight in gold. “Hey, that girl looked a lot older than eighteen. Her driver's license said twenty-three! Not my fault the chick was barely legal.” He paused. “Never going to let me live that one down, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Guys, seriously, what do you think about this?” Jules asked. Under the bright kitchen lights, his eyes shone like diamonds. Fallon thought the comparison apt. He'd never met a tougher man than his team leader.

Fallon gave the question some careful consideration. “Mrs. Alicia Sharpe revs with energy.

What kind, I'm not sure. I don't know if we can trust her.” He turned to Jules. “What does she look like?”

“She's golden.”

“What does that mean?” Hayashi asked. “I've never heard you describe an aura as golden before.”

“That's because I've never seen one that color before. She's different. Different good or different bad, though—that remains the question,” Jules muttered and grabbed a chicken leg before Tersch could finish the entire plate himself.

“Damn.” Tersch glared at him. “Well, I for one don't like her. She gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Hayashi blinked. “The what?”

“The willies, the shivers. She scares him, right, Frederik?” Fallon asked, trying to sound helpful while he poked fun at their resident Viking.

“Jackass. No, she doesn't scare me. I just don't like her.”

“Well, that's too bad, gentlemen, because I already like you.” Alicia Sharpe strode into the kitchen. She stopped next to Tersch, looking downright tiny in his shadow. “Now, how about a nice cup of coffee while we get to know one another better?”

Chapter Two

One month later

Olivia Lynn stepped out of her car and stared up at the picture of gothic horror come to life. Okay, granted, the mansion didn't look that old. Gothic certainly didn't describe the house.

With its tiled circular drive, fieldstone facade, and bright white columns, the place could have been featured in a home and garden magazine. The lit chandelier, visible through the grand window over the door, hinted at a spacious, welcoming interior. The surrounding darkness, however, called to mind monsters and things left best uncovered.

Shifting winds rustled the leaves of the water oaks, hickories, and pines that bordered the house and seemed to stretch for miles. The scent of a storm lingered, wild, wet, and cold. Cones dropped, and wildlife scattered in the shadowy woods around her. Stifling a shiver, Olivia shut her car door and walked across the flagstone path to the brightly lit doorway.

She knocked, not sure what to expect. The journey for this particular assignment had made sense, right before she'd veered away from the Marine Corps base. Her foray through the dark roads surrounded by dense forest had unnerved her. The secure gate at the end of her ride had given her some confidence, but the winding drive up to the house had filled her with trepidation.

She swore she'd seen yellow eyes glinting at her from between the trees.

Taking a firm grip on her imagination and her satchel, Olivia did a last-minute inspection of her appearance. Her tailored wool suit showed off her femininity while maintaining the professional demeanor needed for a woman working in a man's world. The pale pink silk blouse complemented her olive skin tone, and the neat twist she'd put her hair into lent her a scholarly appearance.

Pleased she at least looked the part, Olivia mentally reviewed her strengths and weaknesses. To her surprise, the door suddenly opened. She hadn't heard or felt anyone approach.

“Perfect.” A short African American woman with hazel eyes and lips to die for stood inside the doorway. Dressed in jeans and a ragged sweatshirt, she appeared a few years younger than Olivia. The woman's beauty stunned Olivia for a moment, as did her effortless smile, which seemed to lift the gloom around them. She radiated positive energy.