Rebecca Zanetti - Forgotten Sins

The hair on the back of Shane’s neck had prickled. He had shifted the freshly baked baguettes to his other hand, reaching for the knife in his back pocket.

“Not necessary,” a low voice muttered from the alley.

Relief relaxed his shoulders as Shane dodged into the alley to face his brothers. “Matt, Nate. Why are we in an alley?” Humor tilted Shane’s lips. Matt hated drama, while Nate had once lived for it. When he lived for something.

Matt didn’t return the smile, just stared at him with those dark gray eyes.

Dread whispered along Shane’s skin. His ribs instantly had ached. No. “What?”

“Jory’s dead.”

Two years later, the words made Shane sit upright in bed, his gut revolting. Pain filled his body. Jory. The youngest kid, the smallest, the one who tried so much harder than the rest of them. Until he grew and kicked ass.

Shane breathed out, glancing at the sleeping bundle next to him. Tiny. She was so tiny, curled up like a kitten. Her lips pouted in her sleep, and he flashed back to the many times he’d lounged next to the bed. Watching her. He’d meant to talk some sense into her in the shower. Show her who was boss. She’d taken him. Wrapped her little body around him as tightly as she’d bound his heart.

Jesus. He couldn’t keep his own brother safe. How could he keep Josie safe? While memories were flashing home, there were more he needed to find. He’d told Josie he was keeping her, but what if that was a death sentence? Maybe loving her really did mean releasing her. But could he?

His hand trembled when he reached out and smoothed back the wispy hair on her forehead. Her skin felt like the finest of silks. Though the bruise spreading across her jaw made him wish he had killed George.

How could he see so well in the dark?

Time for some answers.

He rolled from the bed and pulled on his jeans, stalking on bare feet down the hallway to the living room.

Nathan glared at him from the table, where he had put together a scanner. His wet hair lay curled against his neck. “You used all the hot water, asshole.”

“Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why can I see in the dark? How can I guess the speed of a vehicle thirty miles away? Shit, how can I hear a vehicle that far away?” Anger fought reason for dominance in his brain. “How did I know how to interrogate that bastard earlier?”

Nathan sat back, his eyes thoughtful. “What do you remember?”

Shane growled and strode to the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the refrigerator. Guinness. He handed one to Nathan and dropped into a thick leather chair. “I remember a military academy and breaking my arm. Then I remember Matt telling me Jory was dead.” Even now, pain caught the air in his throat. “Small scenes, small memories scattered throughout. I’m starting to remember everything about Josie.” Shane squinted his eyes, looking into the past. “I know we don’t have parents. I don’t know how I know that, but I remember wanting parents.”

“At two years older than me, Matt’s the closest thing we ever had,” Nathan said softly. He rubbed his chin. “It might be easier not knowing. But you’re right. We don’t have parents.”

“Why not?”

Nathan exhaled. “We’re experiments, Shane. Genetics, psychology, and test tubes.”

Shane extended his legs, stretching out. The more his mind spun, the more relaxed his body became. Interesting reaction. “Test tubes?”

“Yes.” Nathan took a deep drink of the dark brew. “We’re part of a military experiment. Trained to fight, trained to kill since birth.”

A soft pattering sounded down the hallway. Shane tilted his head to listen. Josie had crept forward. The little eavesdropper. He could whisk her back to bed or allow her to hear everything. It was past time to have his cards on the table. He pinned his brother with a look. “So we’re not brothers?”

Nathan cut his eyes to the hallway and then back at Shane. With a shrug, he shook his head. “We’re brothers. Part of the experiment was to see how we related, how we trained, what motivated us.” A warning light entered his eyes. “We weren’t the only team. There were several.” He shook his head at the hallway.

Too bad. Let her learn the truth. “That explains the eye color.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened, but he continued. “Yes. Same father. Some ultra-soldier, from what Jory was able to hack. Take a genius female and her womb, some serious genetic engineering, and they created us.”

“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.

“Must be handy in a fight.” Shane jerked his head at Nathan.

“I read people. Facial expressions, movement, everything. I’m a human lie detector.” Nathan grinned, all rogue. “Very handy with the women.”

Matt lowered his tone. “Josie shouldn’t know all of this.”

Shane nodded. “I’ll discuss the matter with her, and then you and I can go over Jory’s death. Maybe figure out where I’ve been the last two years.”

“Sounds good. And we need to get out of town as soon as we solve her problem.” Nathan grabbed his cell phone again. “My contacts are supposed to check in with any new information.”

Shane nodded, stretching his neck as he strode toward the hallway. A scurrying sounded before a door clicked. Ah, angel. Nice try.

* * *

Josie’s heart beat a rapid pattering in her chest. She kept her gaze on the dark entrance to the room. The door opened. Faint light from down the hallway filtered inside, silhouetting Shane’s strong form in the doorway.

She caught her breath in her throat. Still. Stay very still.

“Did you hear everything you needed to hear?” he rumbled, crossing inside and shutting the door. A rustling sounded and his jeans hit the floor before he tugged open the sheets and slid inside.

The scents of warm cedar and male filled her nostrils. Heat encompassed her.

He yanked her butt into his groin, curving an arm around her waist. “Well, did you?”

She shrugged, her mind spinning. “Your childhood sucked.”

A barked-out laugh stirred her hair. “Yeah, sounds like it.” He sighed. “Though the scientific explanation rings true. I mean, some of my senses aren’t normal.”

“Not even close.” She wiggled to get more comfortable, her chest aching. “Do you think Nathan is right? Are you going to die in three months?” The words hurt to say.

“I think Nate is right that there’s a kill chip in my spine, but no, I’m not going to die. We’re going to figure it out.” Calm reason filled his tone—too much calm.

That was a promise he couldn’t make. He seemed so invincible—how could he die? Tears welled in her eyes, and she shoved them back. Crying wouldn’t help a damn thing. “How is genetic manipulation possible? I mean, I can understand taking a soldier’s sperm and making babies, but how do you explain the enhanced hearing? Sight? Strength?”

“I don’t know.” He ran the rough pads of his fingers along her bare arm. Goose bumps rose. “We can clone cows. Eliminate genetic diseases in crops. I guess the thought isn’t too far-fetched to think we can manipulate genes that deal with strength and senses.”

“Especially if funded by the government. Think of the money involved.”

“Yeah. Money.” His body tightened around her. “You know, it was one thing to be certain about my ability to kill. That I had training. But to discover I was created in a test tube to be a killer, well now…” His tone went hard and flat, but pain echoed.

Sadness filtered through her. The need to comfort him, to heal him, made her heart actually ache. He must’ve been such a scared little boy to turn into such a hard man. “You don’t know that. Sure, you’re trained. But you’re freaky smart, too. Maybe you were created to do something great. Cure a disease. Fix the economy.” She turned in his arms to face him. Only the deep glow of his amazing eyes filled her sight. “What you do with your skills… well, that’s up to you. Not them.”