“Different females?”
Nathan shrugged. “Yes. Hopefully all human DNA—but who knows. If documents exist about that, we haven’t been able to find them.”
“Josie thinks I have a hang-up about kind women.”
“Yeah.” Nathan took another deep swallow. “The women we knew were either stone-cold scientists or really rough soldiers. Mainly.” His gaze slid to his boots.
The hair on the back of Shane’s neck prickled. “Mainly?”
“Yeah, ah”—Nathan cleared his throat—“let’s just say they sent other women to us while we were in our teens.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “There isn’t much we don’t understand about sexual manipulation.”
Jesus. Shane dug a palm into his eye. “The barracks I remember. We lived in that place?”
“Yes. Different groups were assigned divisions, all created with similar DNA. Brothers.”
“No girls?”
“Hell, no.” Nathan exhaled. “Until Audrey.”
The name filtered unease through Shane’s brain. “Audrey. Your Audrey.” Pain there, too.
“Yes. She was the head doctor’s daughter. They wanted me to train her in self-defense.”
“Why?” A picture of deceptively innocent blue eyes and long black hair slammed behind Shane’s eyes.
Nathan growled. “I don’t know. If you ask me, it was another experiment. But I fell for it. I wanted a normal life so badly.”
“You were betrayed.” Certainty settled a heavy weight around Shane’s heart. “I remember. She, ah, didn’t turn out to be on our side?” Nathan damaged—nearly destroyed.
“Yeah. They worked me over and good—killing several of our friends in the process People around us end up dead.” Nathan spoke to the dark hallway. “That’s when we decided to leave.”
An explosion filled Shane’s memories. He set detonations, killing on purpose. The fires had burned high and hot… the screams echoed and then died out. “We blew the place up.”
“Yes. We had to get free of those people so we could seek revenge. We blew everything and scattered. Almost five years ago.” Nathan glanced at his disposable cell phone. “We knew they’d need about five years to regroup and come after us.”
“Regroup?”
“I’m sure we’re just the first wave of experiments. So we wanted time to get away, get positioned, and then take them down.” Nate’s eyes hardened to slate. “Of course, we thought we’d be further ahead than we are right now—considering we have three months to live.”
Shane stilled. “Excuse me?”
Nate’s slow smirk lacked humor. “You didn’t think geniuses smart enough to genetically engineer us would fail to have safeguards in place, did you?”
Shane’s gaze dropped to his hands. A familiar but unremembered fear washed down his entire back. “I guess not. What’s the safeguard?”
“Kill chip in your spine.” Nathan scratched his neck. “Needs to be reprogrammed every five years, or smush.”
“Smush?”
“Yep. The thing blows and you die.” Nathan picked at a string on his jeans. “If we try to remove it…”
“Smush.” Shane eyed the too-quiet doorway. He should’ve sent her back to bed. “What’s the plan?”
“Jory was looking for the code or how to remove it, and so is Matt. We’ll find it. For right now, we need to concentrate on the current problem.”
“Matt said he’s a U.S. marshal,” Shane said.
“Yes. And I’m the head of Sins Security, which is a corporation owned by the four of us. I mean three of us.” Nathan frowned. “We supply support, protection, and such when necessary. We’ve been shoring up resources for when we strike—which has to be soon.”
“What group was I with in the marines?”
“A specialty unit in the United States dealing with bioterrorism.”
Bioterrorism? “What did that have to do with our childhood?”
“Some of the top scientists in our government created us in the first place. You were hunting them.”
“I left when Jory died.” A statement. He’d left more than the marines, and he knew it.
“Yeah. We think he got too close to the commander.”
The name sent a rock of pure hatred blasting under Shane’s skin. “I remember him. He needs to die.”
“Yes, he does,” Matt said, stalking into the room.
Shane scratched his head. “What’s up with my super hearing? And sight?”
Matt shrugged. “Along with the abnormal strength and reflexes, we all have special gifts. Might be hereditary and experimental, or just flukes from all of that. We all have hyper senses, but yours are the best.”
“What’s your gift?” Shane asked.
Nearing the sofa, Matt pivoted, his gaze on the dark hallway. “Your woman is eavesdropping,” he mouthed.
“I know.” Shane stretched to his feet. “Gifts?”
“I sense movement right before it happens. Might be slightly psychic, empathic, or just notice the shift of air. They’ve never been able to explain it.” Matt eyed the hallway.