Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(101)

“No,” Matt said shortly.

Ryker tamped down on emotion. The helicopter had been loaded with enough weaponry to take out a small country, but he had kept his comfortable Glock and knives instead. Denver sat in the co-pilot’s seat while Jory and Heath bracketed Ryker.

Zara had to be all right. Hopefully Greg was sitting tight, but Ryker knew that if the kid found an opening, he’d take it.

“Who are you guys?” Ryker asked bluntly. Sure, they shared features and possibly genetics, but how could he trust these guys when Zara and Greg’s lives were on the line?

“We were born in a black-ops pseudo-military organization in Tennessee and trained as soldiers from birth by Dr. Madison and a guy named the commander who’s now dead. There were different groups, different brothers, all genetically marked by eye color. We have gray eyes. We blew the place up almost six years ago and got free, but Madison is still looking for us,” Matt answered.

Fuck. This was all real. Ryker shook his head as tension rolled from Heath. “I’m getting that we were all Dr. Madison’s experiments. But why did you grow up together knowing you were brothers while Denver, Heath, and I just ended up together, not knowing we were engineered or created by the same scientists?”

Matt growled in a low rumble. “The answer is Isobel Madison was studying us all in different environments.”

“That is screwed up,” Ryker said, eyeing the storm clouds outside the helicopter. “She’d show up periodically at the boys home where we lived, and she’d test us mentally, emotionally, and physically.”

“She thinks she owns us,” Matt said simply. “She created us, raised us, and wants us back. She’s sick, man.” He cleared his throat, pulling back on the throttle. “We think Madison has thrown in with a group called Protect, which wants to rid the world of all genetic testing and scientific advancement and kill us all.”

“That’s the opposite of what she does,” Ryker said, frowning and grabbing the side of the craft when Matt banked a hard right.

“Yeah. Our guess is that she’s just using them for resources to get to us, and to whatever other creations she has out there. She lost her main resources when we blew them up four months ago,” Jory said.

“Sounds like you enjoy blowing things up,” Ryker said thoughtfully.

“We try.”

Ryker’s thoughts rushed through his head. What about Greg? His upbringing sounded similar to these guys. Man, he wanted to trust them. “What about our parents? Do you know them?”

“Our genetic donors are unknown. We all share the DNA of a supersoldier with gray eyes who is dead, and we each have different egg donors, as far as we can tell. Either scientists, hookers, poor people, or just donors. We’ve never been able to track any of them down, and we gave up a long time ago,” Matt said tersely.

“Oh.” Ryker rubbed the center of his chest. “I’ve been looking for them my whole life.” What about the odd senses? “Do you have super hearing and strength? Know stuff you shouldn’t?” Ryker said, his voice hoarse.

“Yep. Good ole Isobel Madison spliced all sorts of special genes into us when she made us,” Matt said. “You’re not alone, Ryker, and it’s time you leveled with us. What exactly is going on here?”

It was all too surreal, but all that mattered was saving Zara and Greg. Time to trust. “I have a client who wanted to find Madison, and that brought up my childhood, so we set a trap, you got caught in our trap, and here you are.”

Matt stilled. “Somebody hired you to find Madison?”

“Yes. We have a business called Lost Bastards Investigative Services, and we find the lost. Have a good track record.”

Matt glanced back. “We need to know about your client. Who is it?”

Ryker glanced first at Heath, who nodded, and then at Denver, who shrugged. All right. It was best if they all knew what they were getting into. “A kid named Greg hired us to find Dr. Madison. The kid was nearly desperate.”

“Kid?” Matt swung around.

“Watch the sky,” Ryker snapped as the helicopter banked.

Matt righted the craft. “Did you say a kid named Greg?” His voice was a little too loud through the helmet comms.

Jory shook his head. “Couldn’t be, Mattie. Take a breath. It couldn’t be Greg. We dug up his grave, remember?”

Ryker’s chest heated. “Um, the kid showed us a disturbed grave in Utah where he was supposed to have been buried. Dr. Madison sent him on a mission, he failed, and she told him he had to get home on his own. It took a while.”

Emotion suddenly choked the cab. Matt kept his gaze straight ahead while Jory watched his brother, worry in his deep gray eyes.

“Should we call home?” Jory asked.

Matt shook his head. “No. Not until we get him back and make sure it’s him.”

Jory nodded.

Heath gave Ryker a concerned look. “I take it you know of Greg?”

Jory glanced at his brother and then breathed out. “Yes. We rescued three boys from Dr. Madison who’d recently lost a brother named Greg. Figures it was another mind f*ck by her. Shit. We reburied him on the ranch.”

Sounded like another crazy experiment. “We’ll get him back,” Ryker vowed.

Jory met his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”