Steampunk Cyborg (Mecha Origin Book 1)

by Eve Langlais

  “Only authorized loading vehicles are permitted in the landing zone. Don’t worry. We’ll have transportation outside the terminal. Hopefully we won’t be detained for long.”

  “Detained? You mean we have to go through customs?”

  He cast her a glance. “Surely you didn’t think we could just land and saunter about.”

  “You did on my planet.”

  “Different situation. Your people don’t yet have the technology to detect visitors. The Amanns do.”

  “I don’t have any identification, though.”

  “Don’t worry. I took care of it.”

  “How?” Because hadn’t he told her humans weren’t common in the universes? How would he explain her presence?

  “Quiet. We approach the terminal.”

  She zipped her lips lest she be overhead and taken away for questioning. She’d crack. Quickly, too. Probably cry and ask to be sent home. Except home was a black hole and a few galaxies away.

  She panicked for nothing.

  They arrived at a booth made of stone. Entering the tight space, she squeaked as a doors slammed shut behind them.

  “We’re trapped!”

  “Calm, yourself. This is part of the verification process to ensure we’re not transporting illegal goods.”

  “Like a customs office?” Her nose wrinkled and she peeked around seeing nothing but some weird etchings on the wall above an alcove. “Where’s the agent?”

  “The process is automated.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Present your hand for verification.” He pointed to the hole in the wall. A dark ominous hole.

  “Um, is there like bugs or icky stuff in there, because I’m gonna tell you right now, I saw Temple of Doom, and like Hell am I letting some creepy—“ She stopped talking as Jules stuck his hand in the opening. A red light glowed.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh shit. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “Red means I’ve passed. Your turn.” He took out his hand and gestured for her to go next.

  “What color is bad?”

  “Anything not red.”

  She bit her lip and stuck her hand in the hole. Hopefully this wasn’t like that Indiana Jones movie with those bugs—shudder—because she would scream. She wanted to close her eyes as she waited. Instead she stared intently at her wrist. Any second now. Why was it taking so long? Oh no, she was—

  “We’re good to go,” Jules declared as a red light beamed.

  “I passed.” She withdrew her hand, relieved and disappointed. The whole thing kind of anticlimactic, especially since she’d yet to meet an alien.

  “Of course, you did.”

  “But it didn’t ask any questions. Or ask for a passport or anything. Is it like a DNA thing?” She glanced at her hand, looking for signs she’d been probed.

  “Identity chips are embedded in the palms. The scanner reads them, and the systems monitoring have access to all the information they need.”

  “I don’t have a chip, though.”

  He didn’t look at her when he said, “Yes, you do.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She stopped, and he reacted, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her. “Don’t make a scene here.” Here being a long hallway with subtly changing lights.

  “I think I’m entitled to ask what you did. You just admitted to chipping me. Like a dog.”

  “Everyone has them. You can’t travel between worlds without one.”

  “So you faked one for me?” she hissed, her voice low. “What if they catch on? Realize I’m an imposter.”

  “What if they’re listening and you just told them?” he replied.

  “What?” That had her gasping. “Am I about to get arrested? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you should have thought of it. Suspect everyone and everything.”

  “I can’t believe I signed my own death warrant,” she moaned as he kept walking, not at all concerned she was going to die.

  He chuckled. “Not this time. The decontamination process distorts sound waves. But let this be a lesson to you.”

  “Don’t fuck around. Got it.” It would suck to be that blurb in the local alien paper: Stupid Human Admits to Illegally Entering Planet Before Dropping Dead of the Flu.

  “Just be quiet and follow my lead.”

  “Because I’m a woman.”

  He cast her a side eye. “Go ahead and speak, but when they arrest you or someone kidnaps you as meat for their stew, don’t expect me to come to your aid.”

  “Quiet. Right.” She tried to not speak as they walked the simple stone corridor, but finally she had to ask. “This decontamination thing, what’s it involve?” Because the moment of truth had arrived. They were at a door, and she worried.

  “It is done.”

  “What? What do you mean done? Where’s the chemical shower? The vacuum of dust?”

  “Done at a quark level.”

  “Did you just quack?”

  “What happened to not talking?” he muttered as the door slid open, revealing a much larger space with people milling about. “People” being a bit of a misnomer.

  She almost started to bounce. Only Jules’s firm grip reminded her to be still.

  “What did I say about not drawing attention?”

  “Sorry, but did you see? Aliens!” She clasped her hands in excitement as she eyeballed the milling extra-terrestrial group. There were more than blue people, who didn’t look at all like Smurfs. For one, they wore shirts, and their pants were skirts.

  “You might want to be careful about calling inhabitants of this planet alien. It is considered a slur.”

  “Oh shit.” She clamped her mouth shut. “What do I call them then?”

  “Nothing. You are to let me do the talking.”

  “What am I? Your slave girl? Seen but not heard?” A sarcastic rejoinder.

  “Exactly. I’ve got you registered in service to me.”

  “Hold on a second. My chip says I’m a slave?” She might have squeaked a tad loud.

  “What else did you think a human would be?”

  “Couldn’t you have made me your pretend wife or something?”

  “A Siyborgh married to a human?” He laughed, a sexy thing with strong, straight teeth, hinting of silver. An insult that had her glaring hotly.

  “Keep laughing, funny guy, and see if this human sleeps with you again.”

  That wiped the smirk. “We will discuss this later.”

  “When, oh mighty master? After I’ve bathed and serviced you?”

  “That sounds like a fine plan.”

  Her mouth snapped open. “That’s not what I meant. I was being sarcastic.”

  “I wasn’t. Now, are we going together to our destination, or do you want to ride the Vius by yourself.”

  “What?” She looked and noticed people stepping off the curb onto the road she’d seen from above. Still no cars to be seen. Which was why she blinked when she saw those people zooming off. Most of them blue skinned and short, but there were a few weirder characters, too. A big ol’ purple dude in leathers with a massive sword strapped down his spine. Another fellow in motley colors accompanied by a lady in wide, layered skirts.

  They zoomed off, holding hands.

  “Together,” she said, clinging to his arm as they neared the edge.

  “Try and relax. It’s a very efficient method of travel.”

  The only warning she got before the force took them. She couldn’t have described it other than that. One moment they stood, the next they were moving, but there was no wind blowing in her face, nothing pushing against her body, no sense of motion at all if she didn’t count the blur outside.

  Moving so fast, and every so often violently whipping at a ninety-degree angle. After the first one drew a sharp yell, Jules cupped her cheek and tilted her face.

  “Eyes on me,” he ordered.

  He provided a steady anchor in the chaos streaming past. A person she could trust.

 
He would never hurt me.

  But she worried about this so-called doctor they were going to see. She didn’t need a mirror to know a thin layer of skin now covered the gear in her head.

  How would they remove it?

  Maybe it should stay. Jules seemed pretty determined, though.

  When they finally emerged from the force road, it was jarring. Mostly because her body didn’t feel as if it moved at all, and yet she now stood in front of a tiny stone castle. Fat and squat, with narrow windows slitted in the façade, and crenellations at the roofline.

  Again, not very alien feeling, but walking inside, she found her excitement rising again.

  The floor was some weird glowing material, the green pulsing as if a living piece of granite. The walls appeared spongy and ridged.

  The robed figure in front of them, big and imposing.

  As for when he lowered the hood and she saw his demon face…

  12

  Jwls caught her before she fell.

  “What is wrong with your human?” Bazl asked, his slitted yellow eyes staring with interest. “Is it ill?”

  “More like easily frightened.” Jwls swept her into his arms.

  “Strange race. I received one for study some time ago.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “That one must care for humans. I left on business and returned to find it dead in its cage.”

  “They require regular sustenance.”

  “And they cry all the time,” Bazl exclaimed with a wave of his taloned hands. “’Bring me home. Don’t hurt me.’ Not once thanking me for the honor I did them in choosing them for my studies.”

  “Ungracious lot,” Jwls said to agree, meanwhile he couldn’t blame the human. Test subjects rarely survived Bazl’s explorative techniques.

  “You mentioned in your message that you need my help in extracting a gear from the human. I’m surprised you didn’t carve it out yourself.” Bazl led the way into a pentagram-shaped room. Light flicked in each of the corners.

  “The location makes extraction difficult.”

  “Only if you’re trying to keep her alive. Oh.” Bazl’s head swiveled to face backwards. “You’re trying to keep her alive?” So much surprise in one sentence.

  “Not much value to me dead,” he said, trying to gruff his way out of a reply that would make it sound like he’d gone soft and weak.

  “Since when do you deal in slaves?”

  He didn’t. “Can you do something or not?”

  “First I must see it.” The doctor waved his hand. “Lie her on the table.” The table being a massive block of white stone.

  Jwls lay Aggie on it, her frame well within the grooves running along all its edges.

  “Let us see what kind of gear we’re dealing with.” Bazl started at her feet, lifting each, removing the shoe, wiggling her toes, before eyeing her leg, slowly palpating her skin.

  Restless, Jwls shifted and said, “Why are you wasting time inspecting her body? It’s in her cheek.”

  “Do you want my expertise or not?” snapped Bazl, a hint of smoke curling from his ears. He bent down and sniffed her. Ran his nose up the length of her body to the cheek. He pressed the tip of his horn to the skin. Paused as if in thought then rubbed the other tine against her.

  She remained still during it all. Probably a good thing. The last thing they needed was for her to scream. Bazl didn’t like loud noises.

  The surgeon straightened. “What kind of gear is it?”

  Admitting she had a God Gear was asking for trouble. So Jwls lied. “Beauty one. You should have seen her before. Hideous.”

  “More hideous than now?” Bazl cast a disdainful look upon her. “Two breasts. Only one mouth. How is that supposed to please?” An understandable statement given Bazl had a pair of pricks under those robes.

  “Can you remove it?

  “It won’t be easy. It’s meshed with her.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’s high quality latmevilium. Which means it is intricately wound with her already. How important is it to keep the gear intact?”

  “Very.”

  “Then it is going to require precise surgical extraction.”

  “But it can be done.”

  Bazl threw up his hands. “Anything can be done, but the result isn’t always what you want. Removing it will leave a hole, a big one.”

  “She’ll live?

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “That’s not an answer,” Jwls snapped.

  “You know the answer, so don’t bark at me. You knew it before you even came here.”

  “I’ll bark if I want. I need that cog.” But he was loath to hurt Aggie to get it.

  “Perhaps we could replace it with another,” Bazl mused aloud.

  Which was when Aggie chose to wake up.

  “I did not just hear the devil suggest we trade one piece of metal for another,” she said, eyes shut tight. “Can’t you just get rid of it and do some plastic surgery?”

  “Plastic components?” Bazl wrinkled his brow and snorted most indignantly. “I’m sure we could do something more appealing like synthetic. But you will need some kind of a cog to take its place.”

  “Do you have a spare gear she can use?” Jwls asked.

  “No, and it might not matter if I did. I’ve never seen a gear spread itself like this one. Are you sure it only does beauty?” Bazl asked.

  He had no idea what it did on its own.

  Aggie sat up and glanced around the room. “Or we could leave my face alone and forget about this one. Why can’t you find another?” Aimed at Jwls.

  Because the one in her head was one of a kind. His crew expected him to get it. “I can’t explain, but trust me when I say it’s better out of your head.”

  “Only if I still have a head when you’re done,” she countered.

  Bazl interrupted the spat. “Give me the night to mull over the dilemma. Stay here as my guests.”

  “Here? With you?” Aggie squeaked, which was why Jwls quickly accepted. “We would be honored to accept your fine request.”

  When she would have talked, he shot her a glare. She heeded it for once and kept her lips shut until they hit their assigned quarters.

  Then she lit into him. “Why didn’t you tell me the doctor was the devil?”

  “Bazl is an Amann.”

  “He’s not blue.”

  “Of course not. He is not native to this world. He emigrated here that he might do his research in privacy.” And without the laws of other worlds confining him. The Amanns encouraged the study of other species, mostly because they liked to know how to exploit the weaknesses.

  “He’s creepy.”

  “Some would say the same of you.”

  “How am I creepy?” she retorted.

  “You should have seen his repulsion at your appearance.”

  Pride pricked meant Aggie tossed her head. “As if he should talk.”

  “Here’s to hoping he isn’t too repulsed, as he’s the only one who might help you.”

  “Didn’t sound like he had a good plan. Why would you have to replace it?” She placed a hand to her cheek, the faint shadow and outline of the gear a reminder.

  How far would he go in his quest for bigger and better gears? Could he truly have her killed merely to acquire it?

  But if he didn’t, how would he explain to his crew that they couldn’t have it?

  The dilemma roiled within him, mostly because he had this insane urge to say fuck it all. To grab hold of Aggie and flee this place. Flee somewhere where no one would know she had it. Where they could…

  Could what?

  He didn’t know. All her knew was the sight of her hugging herself, muttering, “I am so screwed,” did something to him.

  Jwls took a few steps that he might reach her, pulled her into his arms, and dipped his head to claim her lips. Hungry for her but also needing to touch her. Teasing her bottom lip between his, he coaxed her mouth open. Tasted her.

  A
rousal burned hot within.

  She cupped his face, her slender hands pressing tight, holding him near. Her body leaned into him, and he clasped his arms tight around her.

  He kept kissing her, frantic, passionate.

  He stroked her body as they kissed, his hands skimming over fabric, exploring her curves, rolling over them before cupping her buttocks.

  A firm tug had her grinding against him, the friction catching their breath, heating even the air around them.

  He growled, a hungry sound as she slid her hands past his waistband to cup his cheeks. She dug her nails in. Pushed her pelvis against him. Kissed him harder. Even bit him. Marked him with blood.

  It pushed his control over the edge. He couldn’t wait. He needed her now. He fumbled with her clothes, shedding all the layers between them until they were naked. Kissing the entire time, his tongue wetly slipping into her mouth, tasting her, sucking at her. All serving to heighten his arousal.

  Hands on her waist, he hoisted her. Stumbled to the bed, only to come up against the post. She grabbed at him as her back hit it, her legs wrapping around his waist. It put her in the right spot. The perfect angle to rub his hard shaft against the moistness of her. Hot honey slicked his dick.

  But he wanted her panting for it.

  He caught her gaze as he held her aloft with one arm. His fleshy fingers ran down her lower belly, teased the short curls of her before dipping lower. Sliding between her nether lips. Coating him in heat and wetness.

  Sweetness. The sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

  And he needed it now.

  He moved aside enough to place her on the bed, ass on the edge of the mattress so that when he knelt, her legs went over his shoulders. The perfect position to bring his mouth in line with her sex. He puffed hotly on it, and she moaned.

  Squirmed.

  So he did it again, followed by a flick of his tongue against her nether lips. She cried out. He licked her again, over and over, hot caresses of his tongue, lapping up her honey. Feasting on the ambrosia that was all her.

  Aggie clutched at his hair, squirming and moaning, and, best of all, enjoying. She might even enjoy herself as much as he did. He loved eating her. Loved watching and feeling her go wild. And he knew she could get wilder still.