Claimed Possession (The Machinery of Desire Book 2)

by Cari Silverwood

  The mech was metal. Flesh died more easily.

  She heard the men celebrating and grimaced. It meant nothing. Her fears were messing with her head. Then... More cheers, laughter.

  No. She wrapped her arms about herself, feeling the cool night air at her back and dull radiant heat at her front. Her nipples spiked. She went up and down on her toes.

  If things had gone wrong, she must pretend to be...what? Unconcerned? He was nothing to her.

  Be indifferent.

  Men ambled from the debris, from the darkness, two had their arms wrapped about a man’s shoulders, helping him walk. Saw. Fuck. No.

  How dare Fate do this to her.

  She barely stopped herself slipping backward, since that might be seen as shame or guilt or fear.

  He limped closer. In the light from fires, from the mech’s onboard lights, and from the headlights of a truck someone had switched on, she saw blood.

  Blood wet the shoulder of his pale shirt and spattered his face, one pants leg was torn away partly, and blood trailed down that lower leg. His face was set hard – with pain she guessed. For a second, he glanced and saw her. The mech was dragging its feet, making metal-rasping sounds that must be unhealthy. It stopped almost beside her.

  Saw had survived. The gods were spitting on her today.

  She drew a breath and made her face seem not despondent, not cheerful, just average. Also, she shouldn’t look at the rocket truck, and she certainly should not examine this mech as it towered above.

  Except not looking was impossible.

  The creature was magnificent. She put out her hand and touched the metal and was surprised at the heat.

  So in awe was she that she almost didn’t notice when Sassik walked past and leaned in as if to talk to Saw.

  “She was near the truck after the rocket fired?” Saw shook his head, as if to make himself hear better.

  Hells.

  Sassik nodded.

  Zarr had heard. “Did you fire the rocket, girl?”

  Pinned by several gazes she stiffened. “No,” she said firmly. Though lightheaded, she made herself add, “No, sir. I did not.”

  “Then what am I to do with you?”

  “Nothing?” she whispered. “Because I did nothing wrong.”

  “Hah. Of all the people here, you are the one who would want this. Sassik?”

  “I don’t know for certain, sir.”

  Zarr took a step and stared into her eyes. “Either you are a liar, or you are not.”

  “I have brought you the JI-mech,” Saw interrupted. “Leave her be. I will deal with her if you give her to me.”

  Deal with her. Though she was open-mouthed, her protests crumbled as she contemplated justice from Zarr, a man whose decisions seemed to flow back and forth with the direction of the wind.

  Zarr straightened. “You will? I might like to watch that. You need a physician first. That leg wound looks like it needs stitching. But, this mech...introduce me.”

  “Yes. This is JI-mech 34. JI has become smart, like people are.”

  “Really? Are you our friend, JI-mech 34?” Zarr asked, head tilting upward as he eyed the mech’s head surface with its dulled array of now-orange lights. “I’ve heard rumors of mechs becoming smarter.”

  “Sawyer told me the last rocket was a mistake. Is this true?”

  The mech’s orange light sensors seemed to focus in on Zarr, as if to study him.

  Orange. Orange seemed sharp, nasty, hurtful.

  With a fingertip, she touched the JI-mech again. She could feel the hurt, and it crushed in behind her forehead. Tight. Then she knew this was him, it, the JI-mech. She could feel his pain like she rarely could with patients. Then it was gone, and she was left bewildered. That in the middle of all this. She could’ve wept at the incongruity.

  “It is true. The rocket was a mistake.”

  “I think perhaps I could be your friend, sir, but first I may need some assistance.”

  “Are you my friend?” Zarr repeated.

  “I am, sir. I am.” Then he bowed in a way only an eight-foot mech could do, with an added flourish of a twirl of his metal hand – which was the oddest thing Ari had ever seen, especially when she knew his brain was popping with small agonies.

  Why could she feel this mech’s pain? How useless a thing to have.

  “Good!” Zarr snapped. “Saw! You want to be a free man? You did as I asked you to. Granted! I grant you your freedom, but my men work. Sit on your hands and I make you a slave again. Be ready for when I call you. The girl is yours.”

  Oh no.

  No, no, no.

  She shrank back then took a step, and no one stopped her. Before this, running had seemed stupid. Before, she’d had other options. Though Saw hadn’t again looked at her, even that lack of attention seemed ominous.

  “Thank you.” Saw inclined his head. “I will get this checked by one of your doctors, soon. I have a few needs.” His hand was clasped over his upper thigh where dark blood spread across the cloth. “I’d shake on it, but my hand is busy stopping this bleeding.”

  She sidled back again only to be stopped by a hand smacking onto her shoulder and grasping her. Someone chuckled. “You want her? She’s going places.”

  “Yeah.” Saw looked over. “Tie her to a tree. Clothes on,” he snapped, as if the man behind her had signaled something.

  Panicking inside but surrounded by Scavs who were keenly aware of her presence, she let herself be led to a small tree.

  This was one that hadn’t been burned, though it smelled of smoke, as did much of this open forest. With her hands to the front, rope was wrapped and tied about her wrists, then about the tree. She had some freedom to turn but unless she had a knife or the opportunity to gnaw at the rope, she was stuck.

  Should’ve done something, her stupid mind told her. Something. Screaming would’ve just amused them. Running, ditto. Doing nothing made them think her as meek as a forest creature. She’d be small, quiet, and secretive.

  She pressed her forehead into the bark for a moment then raised her head. If a bug dropped on her, that would be just perfect. Her lips twisted. Sarcasm, maybe she could survive on that.

  Whatever was going to happen, she would do best to not be afraid. Best – if only her thoughts weren’t scurrying in endless circles. If he wanted sex...eventually...he was going to find he had the wrong person.

  Person. She couldn’t even think of herself as a woman. It made her feel a victim, gave her intimate parts men wanted. She’d rather be a null, a sexless thing.

  Behind her, people were talking. Saw was too.

  “All of you, leave. I’ll survive this. She’s mine, and I don’t need any fucking help. Sassik can stay, and we’ll need a truck to get back.”

  She heard a man grunt as if in reply.

  Mine. That plain disgusted her.

  She read anger in his words.

  He didn’t know. No one had seen her do anything. Her toes knew, though. No matter how she tried to be still and innocent, they jittered – inside her shoes they moved, curling, uncurling, and her shoes screwed holes in the dirt.

  The Scavs were leaving, engines had started, and the JI-mech made distinctive thumping sounds as it departed.

  She heard more noises and tried to turn her head.

  “Look at me and I swear I will do worse to you, girl. Stare at that tree.”

  Worse than what?

  After a second of being frozen, she gave in and looked at tree and nothing else.

  From the gasps and curses, the rasp of cloth, he was getting his wound bandaged.

  “You saw more than you said before, Sassik?”

  “Yes. I said so. I owe you now. I failed to watch the girl. I did see her only a few feet from the truck, sneaking back. I apologize for my failure.”

  Saw knew.

  Her stomach cramped. The dark fissures of the tree’s surface only inches away seemed chasms for her to fall into. The worst possibility had come true. Almost worst. Sassik ha
dn’t told everyone.

  “Accepted. Besides, I think I like you owing me. You look like you could lift a truck. Fuck! That...hurts. Feels like it too when you tie it that tight.”

  Sassik laughed. “Are all humans this weak?”

  “Nope. I’m the only mouse. You don’t have mice, do you? Small, whiskers, squeaky...never mind. The bleeding’s stopped. You can go. I have things to do.”

  “Her?”

  She clenched her hands into fists, nails touching palms, her wrists turning and straining to slide from the bindings, but nothing gave. He couldn’t run fast, surely, wounded. Once Sassik left, she just needed to run. And she needed a knife to cut this.

  “Her.”

  “I will stay. I did not lie to Zarr to protect her from his wrath only to see you do something worse.”

  “What? You like her?”

  “Small. Female. Pretty. Of course.”

  “I won’t kill her. Go wait by the truck.”

  “No. I owe you. She is better alive.”

  “You think I would want to own her just to kill her? Go! I promise on whatever you buggers promise on that I won’t harm her...much.”

  Sassik grunted. “If you faint from blood loss...”

  “I won’t.”

  “I didn’t lie to Zarr just because she is pretty. If I was her, I would’ve done the same.”

  If Sassik left she could run. If she got loose. She tested the wrist ropes again. Still could’ve run if not for the tree. The knot on the rope was stiff, and all she had were her teeth.

  At the first sounds of Sassik walking away, she stopped trying to get loose. Saw might be watching her. Would be. The crunch of boots in the dried grass and underbrush grew fainter, fainter, until all she heard was her breathing, the wind rattling trees, and him nearby, also breathing...unfortunately.

  “Wish I was dead, girl?” The question came from Saw, only feet behind her.

  She swallowed.

  “Answer. Whatever I do to you, I will do, but not answering, not doing what I tell you to do, that makes things escalate. You know escalate?”

  Of course she did.

  “Answer.”

  He wanted this? The truth? Suddenly it became easy to say, because she hated him, hated this moment, hated what she’d come to, being his possession. The words came out, grinding and full of that hate. “I know escalate. Yes! Yes, I wish you were dead.” Ignoring the risk of bugs, she pressed her forehead into the tree. “So very dead.”

  “Honest, at least. A good start. Again, if you try to escape what I do, I will do worse. Hear me?” His words burned into her.

  Her toes curled tighter, as if to dig their way through the leather. “Yes.”

  Last try – she wriggled her hands, turned them. The ropes burned her skin.

  Nothing. Head butting the tree might be more productive.

  She heard him shuffle over, not the precise step of a healthy man, heard the rasp of his breathing, also not healthy, and she almost smiled.

  Except he groped at her ass then undid the belt on her pants at the front and pulled them and her underwear down, baring her.

  Panic mode kicked in, hit a peak, and blackness shivered outward. That would fix him.

  His gasp did make her smile.

  “Clever thing. You think that will stop me?”

  She turned her head, daring him. There he stood, a foot away, watching. The blood on his face pleased her.

  Sometimes, meek. Sometimes, brave. “I hate you. I hate you. You will never –”

  “What?” He gripped her jaw, fingers denting skin. “What? You want to kill me again? This thing you do, I will train this out of you. I swear I will. You’ll not defeat me. No matter how it is you do this. Turn your head. Turn your head or maybe I will give Sassik reason to regret leaving you with me.”

  Though she hesitated, the vehemence made her give in.

  Tree it was.

  The air cooled the skin on her legs and ass. At her ankles, she felt her pants being moved, heard the slide of leather as her belt was drawn from the loops, then he shuffled back. He put his hand on her as if to be sure of where she stood. His fingers clawed, gathering her flesh until pain fired, and she hissed.

  She knew what he intended.

  Dark and the single moon showing was dull, the fires dying. Maybe he’d miss.

  He released her skin.

  The leather struck her ass, and she clutched at the rope, muttering swear words. The second strike made her duck to the side, though her hands were trapped in place, her arms extended and taut. The rope tightened.

  “Move away, Ari, and I will beat you until you are blue. Get back to where you were. Hear me?”

  He’d used her name. Too personal. Made her remember who she was, and she was not a slave. Not his. Not his thing to punish.

  Until she was blue? He’d surely strike her even if she tried to dodge.

  Panting, dismayed, she found her logic among the pain – for what else could she do – and nodded.

  “Ari.”

  She shifted back, feeling such a coward. Coward for not being able to take what he gave. Coward for not dodging.

  “You almost killed me – would have if not for the JI-mech. What do you think you deserve? Answer.”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned. How could she answer that?

  “Neither do I. Yet. Stick your ass out where I can reach it with this belt of yours. Now. That or I strip you completely and tow you back naked after.”

  He asked too much. That he used her own belt was humiliating and too much.

  Naked, before others, would be worse.

  She breathed through her panic then did what she found despicable. She obeyed and pushed her bottom out where he could hit her more easily.

  “Good. One gold star.”

  The first hits were still stinging. This next one whammed into her hard enough to overlay them with pure agony, and she couldn’t help but flinch and step to the side.

  Saw tsked. “Bad girl. Thank you for the excuse. You’re minus a gold star.”

  Gold stars were clearly good things. Fuck him.

  He brushed aside hair from her nape, then contrarily gathered it in his fist, strand by strand, until he’d levered her head backward, and she was looking at the foliage above.

  “You know, I’ve never owned anyone before. The funny thing is, if I said that to anyone else, it would feel a weak thing to do. Saying it to you is like declaring it to the sky, because you are now nothing in the greater scheme of things.

  “I own you, Ari.”

  Her name again.

  The hand in her hair distracted her. It admonished her. Controlled. Dared her too, in a way that was novel. To protest. To wriggle and swear at him. Swearing, she should really be swearing at him. She wavered, but couldn’t think clearly while he did that. His fingers encroached further on her hair until her neck ached to be free.

  Slowly, her eyes rolled upward, and she closed them.

  “You close your eyes,” he murmured. “To shut me out? Or do I hear something else in your breathing? This is what it’s like when a man holds you. Get accustomed to it.” His lips closed on her bared nape in a kiss. The touch burst in and triggered goose bumps. Sensations rippled outward, electrifying and subtle. Then his mouth parted. His teeth settled on her skin. He bit down hard.

  Caught in mid-swallow, Ari had her mouth open. She rasped in a gurgly breath, barely hearing herself, feeling teeth and the shift of pain, the peeling away of her sense of being anything of significance, swept away into a foreign landscape...where only the teeth in her neck and the hold in her hair mattered.

  Chapter 8

  Sawyer stepped away, wiping his mouth.

  Such a surprise, to find himself kissing her – the biting, less so.

  When he moved too fast, his head wanted to split in two and fall off.

  Baring her ass had given him a hard-on – despite the occasional sharp agony and constant throb of the wounds she’d caused, the blood dr
ying on his leg, and the ringing in his ears from what must be concussion. He could see her well enough and could imagine how fucking her would feel as he sank his cock into her.

  He could’ve fucked her here, if he wouldn’t likely have made everything hurt a thousand times worse, burst a cut blood vessel, and bled enough to pass out. And there was the other problem. The second his tongue had tasted her neck his erection had dwindled.

  That would’ve bothered most men.

  Not him. He knew the why, if not the how.

  This girl was a challenge.

  Saw hobbled to an old fallen tree and sat, slowly, mindful of the pull of the rough bandage on the laceration. He rested his hands on his knee and let her belt dangle.

  She was a perfect target – tied to that tree, pants down, and her ass white enough to remind him of the moon back home. Maybe that was the problem. He remembered belting girls there, on Earth, ones who’d wanted it, and who got off on pain and dominance.

  Her shoulder-length white hair stood out too. From here it looked as if she’d leaned into the tree. Had he upset her? Made her scared about her future?

  He didn’t give a flying fuck about this world or the people on it who brutalized their own sort, like this woman had. She’d tried to kill him and before that, to castrate him. He was perfectly within his rights, on this world, to do as he wished.

  He didn’t owe her, he owned her.

  Yet he hesitated.

  Minutes earlier, he’d have thrashed her with a branch torn from a tree, not a soft belt. His anger had been driving him to administer extreme punishment.

  Only, yeah, she was actually his.

  That new fact turned things the wrong way up.

  His words: never owned anyone echoed right down to his cock. To his morals. To who he had been.

  Plus, Sassik was right. Anyone with guts would have done what she did. He’d blow everyone here to pieces if it meant he could escape slavery.

  “What are you doing?” She turned her head slightly.

  “Quiet,” he snapped. “I’m thinking.”

  And with those few words, she was quiet.

  Obedience. He smiled. So, his dilemma was what? He knew he did not want to let her go. Damn, he might cry if he had to do that. Saw grinned. On the spot of owning a woman, he was tussling with his outmoded, archaic, and dead-in-the-water conscience.