Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Cody Livingston sat at the table in the Outcast safe house hidden in the thick of Denver’s downtown area. Armand sat across from him. There were other, smaller safe houses set up around Colorado, but this was by far the biggest. It wasn’t that far from PSI or the Para-Reg offices that serviced the area, as well.

It was hardly Cody’s first Outcast safe house. He’d been in hundreds over the years. Hell, he’d even helped to set up many of them. That being said, the Denver one was impressive for sure. Everything in it was state of the art. Whoever was in charge of the IT department there needed to be commended. There were monitors on one wall, going from floor to ceiling, each displaying different feeds.

Some had lines of code running endlessly on them. Others were scrolling lists of names. He knew algorithms had been set up to help search a variety of areas to find and flag any possible issues related to the supernatural, and the Outcasts specifically. He’d been instrumental in getting the network set up decades ago.

One of the monitors with names running on it pinged something, marking it in red. Since the location popped up as Utah, Cody knew the Outcasts closer to the area would look more into it.

Some of the other monitors had static images flashing. And some appeared to be live feeds. Three looked to be displaying satellite imagery footage. He could only guess which satellites they were tapped into. A lot of what they did piggybacked on existing systems. They did so in a way that didn’t tip anyone off that they were even there.

They were that good.

Nothing was out of the realm or reach of the Outcast organization. They may have been forced to go to ground decades ago when their own government turned against them, but they hadn’t taken defeat lying down. While most of them had scattered with the winds after the shit hit the fan with the Immortal Ops program, nearly all of them kept in contact in some form or fashion. The network was elaborate and its reach deep.

Cody was very involved with the Outcast network, doing his part to assist others who couldn’t help themselves.

Armand was not, nor had he ever been, an Outcast but that didn’t stop the vampire from wanting to help where he could. From the moment Armand had come into Cody’s life (at the exact moment Gram had, as well), he’d trusted the man fully.

Having him close whenever he got devastating news helped Cody somewhat. Staring down at the surveillance photos on the table before him, Cody was happy to have Armand there for moral support. He’d seen firsthand what Cody had lived through. What he’d been put through all in the name of science and for the sake of madmen wanting more power.

And because one sick fuck, in particular, was desperate for a cure to an ailment that had plagued his family line for generations.

Having his not-too-distant past thrown in his face once more was nearly more than Cody could handle.

There were photos, receipts, and more, all proving what he was being told. That didn’t make it any easier to wrap his mind around. His gaze traveled from Armand, with whom he’d formed an unbreakable bond nearly five years ago, to a man he’d once served with—Ace Hargraves.

Ace had been born with trace amounts of supernatural blood in him, just like Cody had. It made them prime candidates for Immortal Ops testing. The experiments had been an attempt by the U.S. government to genetically engineer super soldiers. Men who were more than human and could be controlled—or so they’d thought.

Cody, Ace, and the other men like them had been told they were signing up for testing to serve their country—to be all they could be and more. In the end, that’s exactly what they ended up.

More.

Much more.

In some cases, too fucking much.

Then, after all the horrors they’d gone through, their government turned their backs on them, going so far as to order their extermination. After all, loose ends weren’t something black site operations were big fans of. Hiding the evidence of the atrocities committed had been the choice made by the men in charge.

They’d made a lot of decisions that made no sense to Cody and the others. Then again, Cody never saw a human being as a number, like a lab rat. These people did. Many of them had played a part in Nazi eugenics, even pioneering some of the testing used at the time.

All of it was sickening and horrendous, yet history never spoke of the Outcasts or what they’d lived through. Why would it? It wasn’t as if humans knew about supernaturals, so keeping all the failed experiments a secret was much easier than one would think. And distancing themselves from the Nazi doctors and scientists somehow made those in charge feel better, as if they’d taken a higher road. They hadn’t. They just got better at hiding what they were doing.

It had been decades since Cody had undergone what had ultimately made him the man he was today, but that didn’t lessen the sting any. It was done but not forgotten. Not to mention Outcasts had been, for the most part, hunted for decades. If it wasn’t their own government trying to find and eliminate them to hide what they’d done, it was someone wanting to exploit them or study them. It was always something.

They’d been given the name Immortal Outcasts, and it stuck. Some of them looked down their noses at the term, but not Cody. It was accurate and summarized how he felt.

Like an outsider.

Unlike many supernaturals he knew, he hadn’t been born with the ability to shift forms. Sure, he had always been healthier than others around him, had always been taller, buffer, stronger, faster, but not so much that it was obvious to everyone. The testing he’d signed up for changed everything. It flipped his entire world on its head. He’d had to leave his old life behind and go on the run as the monster the scientists had made him into.

Cody had been born and raised in Australia. When he was in his teens, his family made a move to America. By the time he was eighteen, the first World War had broken out. He’d felt it was his duty to help defend the nation he’d taken to calling home. He’d enlisted and was quickly shipped off to France. While there, he’d been shot. When receiving treatment for his injuries, Cody suddenly found himself being approached by the brass and outsiders. They’d offered him a chance to help change the course of history. To help ensure mankind was safe from evil.

He’d jumped at the opportunity, never reading the fine print.

Ace had been in the same testing facility as him. The men had been in the same unit prior to the testing. The two had watched a number of their brothers die during the experiments. They’d assumed they would, too.

Cody’s first time shifting had not only been terrifying, it had been extremely painful. He still didn’t know what the scientists were expecting, but from their expressions, having a wereshark wasn’t on the list.

It hadn’t been on Cody’s, either.

The smallest amount of great white shark DNA had been used in his cocktail. From Cody’s understanding, that was common practice back then. It was thought to help get the desired outcome. They didn’t expect any of the men to actually take to the DNA fully.

Cody had.

Later, he’d learned that far, far back in his ancestry were men who could shift into sharks and other marine animals. That had left his system far more accepting of the shark DNA than anything else.

It could have been worse. He knew one guy who’d suffered the ill effects of a lab mishap and could shift forms into a giant rat. He knew men who could turn into just about anything, really. A snake. A spider. A gorilla. A bear. The list went on and on. A close friend of his had gargoyle and vampire DNA introduced to his system, leaving him some strange mix of both, yet not fully either. Wheeler was a good guy, dealt a raw deal. Like all the Outcasts.

But Ace was no different. Though he didn’t turn into a shark, rat, or vampire. No. Ace shifted into a huge horse. When fully shifted, he made Clydesdales look like miniature ponies.

Ace wasn’t big on shifting. Cody couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly look forward to doing so, either. Thankfully, he wasn’t a slave to the moon like some shifters. He did suffer from a strong pull to the ocean. Every so often he shifted fully and swam, letting the shark side of himself out to play. During those times, he tended to spend a week or more in the ocean, far from people, far from land, from worries and drama.

Ace took a deep breath from his position near the door as he held a cup of coffee in one hand. “It’s all true, Cody. I wish it wasn’t. That bastard is alive and kicking.”

The bastard in question was someone who was well-known to the Ops community. Walter Helmuth had made a name for himself by being a ruthless paranormal underground ruler in Seattle. He made his money off the trafficking of supernaturals and paranormal death matches—a fight club comprised of nothing but supernaturals. The man was insane on the best of days.

Cody would know. He’d been a prized pet of the man’s for long enough.

Helmuth was part gargoyle and lacked control over that side of himself. In an effort to stave off shifts, Helmuth had taken to injecting himself with serum derived from Cody’s DNA. When that stopped working, he’d apparently set his sights on a succubus he thought might be able to help.

The succubus was now mated to a fellow Outcast who happened to be able to turn into a gorilla, and they had a little one on the way. The last anyone had seen of Helmuth had been weeks ago, when he’d gone head to head with an Outcast and a former Immortal Op.

The grapevine had given Cody the information quickly when it came to light. Rumor had it that Helmuth was seriously injured and thought to possibly be dead. From the photos in front of Cody, that theory was wrong. The sick bastard was not only alive, but he looked healthy and happy. All smiles in the photos as he sat near the edge of a pool sipping some fancy drink from a glass with an umbrella in it. The people around him were all dressed in white.

He tapped a photo. “And this was taken at some hippie commune, you said? And you’re not sure he’s still there?”

Ace sipped his coffee and nodded. “The Caladrius Center. Yeah. We’ve had our eye on the place for a few years now. It tickled our computer program’s algorithm, drawing our attention, and from there, we noticed a lot of things weren’t adding up. We had a man on the inside there. We lost contact with him unexpectedly. Either he’s been unable to reach out to us or he’s dead.”

Armand leafed through files in front of him. “And this Caladrius who runs the resort is what?”

Ace shrugged. “We don’t know for sure. We do know he’s not human. Far from it. Neither are any of his immediate circle. Not a surprise since the resort section of the center all caters to our kind.”

“How did Helmuth end up there?” asked Cody, unable to look away from the photo of the man who had tortured him for months.

“From what we can piece together, Helmuth went there to heal after getting his wing ripped off in that fight with Bane and Lance. Caladrius is rumored to have healing powers, and it’s no big secret that the center gives supernaturals what they need. And I do mean anything they need,” said Ace. “It was smart for Helmuth to go there to get better. No one thought to look for him there. And the guy who runs everything is clearly in bed with some shady people.

“I met with a young woman from out there, and she’s terrified. I didn’t want to let her go back in but her little sister is there. Seemed wrong to keep them apart. I considered going in for them myself, but when I reached out to you and found out Gram was set up to stay there, it seemed wise to let this play out, at least for now.”

Cody looked to Armand. “Gram isn’t one hundred percent. Did we sign off on sending him to a place that will kill him?”

Armand was quiet a moment as he continued to read through the files. He then looked up. “I would not have let him go in alone had I known this.”

Ace cleared his throat. “Had I known that was the vacation getaway Striker planned for the guy, I’d have said something over the phone. Pulling him out right this second might be unwise. Plus, I feel better knowing he’s there. While less than perfect, he’s someone that girl I met with can trust.”

“But he can’t help anyone if he’s their next victim,” said Cody, wanting his friend safe. “We need to go in and extract him at once.”

Ace shook his head. “No can do. Not unless we want the supernatural version of Ruby Ridge or Waco on our hands.”

Armand sighed. “They are heavily armed?”

Nodding, Ace stepped closer. “And then some. From what we can tell, the leader runs weekly drills with his security staff. In the event they’re converged on by law enforcement, they’ll take a stand. If they think they’re going to be overtaken in any way, they will kill everyone in there.”

“Who cares if a bunch of crazy cult members off themselves?” asked Cody, meaning it. He didn’t care if it lacked compassion. Gram was one of his best friends. He wouldn’t sacrifice him for some greater good. The guy had saved his life once. Cody owed him as much in return.

Ace lifted his hands. “Hey, I’m not going to argue with you about it, but I am going to show you this.”

The werehorse moved some of the photos and pulled a few from the bottom. He pushed them before Cody.

When Cody looked down to see a small group of children, all dressed in white, playing on a playground with the resort off in the distance behind them, he gasped. “They have little ones out there?”

“Yeah. And they may have some women held against their will. Honestly, we think they’re behind the rash of deaths lately. The ones PSI is looking into. But we don’t have anything firm to hand PSI to convince them to go in and investigate it further.”

Cody cursed under his breath. There was no way he’d permit children or innocents to be harmed. “Fuck.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Armand, casually pulling his cell from his pocket. He pressed speakerphone and Mac’s voicemail picked up. Armand disconnected the call and tried another number. This time a man picked up who Cody didn’t know.

“What? I did answer it, Gus,” said the man. “No. This newfangled technology escapes me. You see any two-year-olds? Bet they can do this? What? Oh you’re right. I should talk to the person on the other end.”

Armand disconnected the call and then dialed the number again, evidently thinking he had the wrong one. When the same man answered, Armand arched a brow. “Is Carbrey there?”

“Who?” asked the man. “Did you ask if I had the chocolate company here?”

Armand appeared confused.

Cody snorted. “No. He said Car-Brey. Or just Car. Not Cad-Bury. Is he there?”

“You called this phone to talk to a car?” asked the man, sounding befuddled. “Oh, I saw a doco on that once. A series of them. The car was named KITT. Real chick magnet. Gus, what do you mean that wasn’t a doco?”

Armand tipped his head. “What is a doco?”

“Documentary,” said Cody, somewhat amused with the absurdity of the conversation.

“Slang for it?” asked Armand.

Cody nodded.

Armand rubbed his chin. “Why? Wouldn’t it be doc- u ? Not doc- o ? There is a ‘u’ after the doc part of the word. Not an ‘o.’”

“Dude, I didn’t invent the slang for it, and is that really the important matter here?” asked Cody.

Ace snorted.

“Gus, it was too a doco. Remember, I was gonna look for that guy who drove that car named KITT and see if he’s interested in retiring. What was the doco called again? Day Rider? No, Dark Rider? Shucks. I can’t remember. But I’d be perfect to take Michael’s place with KITT.” The man made a series of odd noises before returning to arguing with someone Cody couldn’t hear. “I could too. Ladies love me. And I have mad driving skills. Hey, you cannot blame Lola on me. That car clearly was neglected by its owner—the big meanie. Yes. I can call Duke a meanie. He is one.”

Cody glanced at Ace. “Is he talking about Duke Marlow from PSI? Doesn’t he have a sports car he named Lola?”

Armand shook his head. “Not anymore. Someone wrecked it. My guess is the crazy man talking on the phone now.”

“Don’t you start on me too, vamp-boy,” said the man on the phone.

“Who is this and how is it you know what I am?” asked Armand.

“And why in the hell are you answering Car’s phone?” interjected Cody.

“I’m Wild Bill. My buddy here is Gus. We didn’t answer any car’s phone. We answered one of the Irish guys’ phones. What do you mean he’s not Irish, Gus? Scottish? Huh. That explains why I can’t understand a damn word he and his clone are saying. Oh no! Mona’s head just rolled off the table. Grab her. She’s getting facial stuff all over the floor.”

Ace took a deep breath. “Someone’s head fell off?”

“It would appear so,” said Armand, staring at the phone on the table. “Mentally touched man, would you be so kind as to take the phone to one of the men you can’t understand? We have a matter that is of the utmost importance to discuss with them.”

The man spoke but it was muffled, as if he had his hand over the phone. Suddenly, it cleared. “Gus says to tell you that the twins are where they should be and that Gram has to stay here right now.”

“Who the hell is Gus?” demanded Cody.

Ace scratched his upper chest and then glanced at one of the monitors. He then went to it, tapped a button just under it, and waited as a keyboard slid out from the wall. He keyed in a few things and stepped back as two photos appeared on the monitor. One was a wiry-haired older gentleman who didn’t look to be very tall. The other was of a tall, lanky male.

Ace tapped the monitor. “May I present Bill and Gus. I knew those names were familiar. I heard Weston threatening to eat them once when I called out to check on him and Paisley. Then Bane mentioned them annoying him. I think they actually started out with Casey but are slowly making the Outcast rounds.”

“We saved a princess,” said Bill. “And some other girls. We protected Laney, too. You know, all the shit you guys can’t seem to do on your own. Super soldiers my ass. We’re like superheroes but better. We don’t have a weakness. Well, Gus’s weakness would be Brussels sprouts. He’s not a fan.”

“Did Casey find them after they escaped a mental institution?” asked Cody of Ace.

“I’ll have you know that I keep checking in to crazy farms, but they keep checking me out. I swear. What’s a guy gotta do in today’s day and age to get put away for good and access to endless good drugs?” asked Bill. “This was a lot easier in Vietnam. They locked me away then and kept the good shit coming.”

The men all shared a look, each no doubt guessing what Bill meant. He’d been tested on by the government, just like they had been.

“Lass, you wouldnae be willing to kiss all that ails me, would you?” asked one of the twins in the background.

“Put that one on the line, please,” said Armand, close to losing his patience, which was saying something, considering he always seemed to be a fountain of calm.

“You wanna talk to the one who is trying to get a blow job?” asked Bill.

Ace stifled a laugh. “Yes. That would be one of the twins for sure.”

“Gus says no,” said Bill. “He says we’ve got everything under control and don’t go butting in or people will die. Oh, and Gram has to save his mate. He can’t do that if he ain’t here to do that. Gotta go now. We got a colonics appointment soon. After our facials are done.”

With that, the man hung up.

Cody leaned back in his chair. “I’m not sure if I’m thankful they’re the backup or not.”

“I’ll call Casey,” said Ace, leaving the room in a hurry.

Armand stared at the phone on the table. “It’s been some time since I wanted to drain the life from a human.”

“Glad to see you got your vamp mojo back on, but how about we not drain the little guy?” said Cody. Then his gaze went to the picture of Helmuth. “We can’t let him hurt anyone else.”

“I know. First, let us see to it that Gram and the twins are safe, if from nothing more than the doco -loving little man.”