Taking Vengeance (Cyborg Sizzle Book 12)

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Taking Vengeance (Cyborg Sizzle Book 12) Page 17

by Cynthia Sax


  “Are you damaged, my warrior female?” Her cyborg’s deep voice filled the chamber. A heartbeat later, his handsome face appeared on the viewscreen, his expression concerned.

  “I’m not damaged.” She took a deep breath, counted to ten, exhaled. “I want to speak with you.”

  “We’ll speak in our chambers.” He ended the communication.

  She stared at the viewscreen, her image reflecting in the black surface. That was it? She’d reached out to him and his response was to push their conversation to an undetermined future time?

  “He loves me.” She was certain about that. “I don’t know all of the details. I shouldn’t draw conclusions.”

  Like believing he was an insensitive brute.

  He was a member of the council. There could be an emergency situation only he could handle. She doubted anyone could surpass him in battle.

  Except herself, of course.

  And even that was questionable. She’d seen him fight Power.

  Loving a male on the cyborg council meant dealing with interruptions. She picked up a nourishment bar, unwrapped it, bit into it, chewed.

  Their conversation wasn’t time-sensitive. Perhaps she should send him footage, detailing her thoughts and concerns. He could watch the footage when he had a break in his more urgent tasks, send her a reply when—

  The doors opened. Vengeance skidded to a stop, his boot heels denting the floor tiles, his chest heaving.

  He must have run at cyborg speed to their chambers.

  She blinked, blindly setting the nourishment bar down on a horizontal support. “We could have talked through the viewscreens.”

  “You’re my female.” He scowled. “We’ll communicate face-to-face.”

  He was naked except for the predator tooth and the boots on his feet. Her gaze lowered. And he was hard. She licked her bottom lip. His cock bobbed.

  “We should communicate.” His voice was low and deep and oh-so-arousing.

  “We should.” She dragged her gaze away from his cock and looked into his brilliant blue eyes. “When you decided to sever our connection, that hurt me.” She blurted the first fucking-free thought that crossed her mind. “That you wanted to leave me—”

  “I wouldn’t have left you.” He denied.

  She lifted her eyebrows.

  “Not permanently, not after our emotional bonding on your home planet.” He revised the declaration. “I would have allowed my nanocybotics to fade inside you long enough to prove the connection between a warrior and his female could be broken. Then I would have re-established that connection.”

  She stared at him. That must be true. Cyborgs couldn’t lie. “Why?”

  “Because not all females are as honorable as you are.” He frowned fiercely. “If the connection could have been severed, those females might not have aligned with us and—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She understood why he had to test the connection between cyborgs and their human or humanoid mates. Granting full rights on the Homeland to a being with no true loyalty to the cyborgs would be dangerous. The female could destroy the entire planet and simply fly away. “Why would you re-establish the connection with me? Is it because I can supply you with offspring?”

  Furrow lines appeared on his forehead. “Offspring can be manufactured as I was—in a vat. A female isn’t necessary for that process.”

  She waited. He didn’t volunteer any more information.

  “Is it because I’m genetically compatible with you?” She tried again.

  “It’s more than that.” He crossed his arms in front of him. That was a defensive move. He was seeking to protect himself. “You’re vital to my emotional system. Without you, happiness isn’t achievable for me. Everything is less. The future is unappealing.”

  He loved her. She didn’t say that because she didn’t believe he was ready to hear those words. “That’s how I feel about you.”

  “My warrior female.” Vengeance opened his arms. She rushed to him, pressing her cheek against his chest and he folded her into his big form, holding her tightly, as though he feared she’d escape him.

  “I am your warrior female.” She accepted he was a part of her.

  “You’re Astrid Ragnhild, the Buoir Berserker, Vengeance’s Warrior Female.” Pride edged his words. “That transmission is stored in multiple places in my databases, burned into my organic brain.”

  “It will never be forgotten.” She was a part of him also. “Why didn’t you trust me with your strategy, tell me you planned to re-establish our bond? I would have supported you.”

  “You would have supported me, and every warrior would have known of that support.” He drifted his fingertips over her scarred cheek. “You’re too honorable for plotting and subterfuge, my female. You wear your emotions on your beautiful face.”

  He was right. Fuck. Her reaction to being expelled from the Homeland would have been too calm, too accepting. His brethren would have become suspicious. “I haven’t yet mastered the cyborg blank stare.”

  “You will never master it.” Vengeance’s chest shook. “It is beyond your capabilities.”

  She frowned. Was he laughing at her? “Nothing is beyond my capabilities.”

  “My determined female.” He kissed her forehead, his lips firm and warm against her skin. “My lifespan has been dull without you.”

  “You were always in my thoughts.” She admitted her weakness.

  He grunted. She chose to interpret that as she had been in his thoughts also.

  Silence fell between them.

  She touched the predator tooth. “It took me a while to settle upon this design.” She wanted it to be perfect.

  Because she loved him.

  “I like it. It reminds me of your hair.” He tugged playfully on one of her braids.

  Her face heated. That hadn’t been intentional. “It’s custom in my clan that you take a trophy from your first kill. It communicates to others that you are a warrior to be revered.” She gazed up at her cyborg warrior. “I admired you long before the hunt.”

  And she hadn’t seen the full magnitude of his skills then. She had now.

  He had impressed the fuck out of her during the mock battle. His attacks had happened so quickly; his arms and feet blurred. His countenance was stimulatingly primitive. His muscles had rippled under his skin-tight body armor.

  “I might be too slow to kill you,” she admitted.

  “You damaged me.” He held up his finger. “I’ve fought thousands of battles and no one had ever done that.”

  She kissed the tip of it. “Are you saying I could kill you?”

  “No.” His lips twitched. “You’re too slow.”

  She laughed. Her male was an arrogant brute…and she loved him for that. “We’ll have a mock battle, you and I, and I’ll show you my skills.”

  He lifted her until he met her gaze directly, the strength in his form thrilling her. “I haven’t seen all of your skills?”

  She hooked her legs around his waist, tightening their connection. “You haven’t seen a fraction of them, cyborg.”

  “And you haven’t seen a fraction of mine, human.” His eyes glinted with a challenge she couldn’t resist. “Is your damage repaired?”

  She unfastened the flight suit, shrugged the garment off her shoulders. It fell to her waist, the cool air and her arousal tightening her nipples. “My wounds are almost healed.”

  The pain had evaporated. Pink lines, the length of a blade, decorated her skin.

  That was healed enough for her.

  But not for her cyborg. He bent his head and licked each mark. His nanocybotics bubbled over her chest, fizzing on her breasts.

  “That feels so good.” She held him to her, leaning her head back, savoring the flick of his tongue, the heat of his mouth. “Mock dying was…an experience.” It had temporarily scared the fight out of her.

  “Seeing you like that destroyed me.” He met her gaze, his handsome face positioned between her breasts. “I sh
ould have protected your back.”

  He should have protected her back, should have been fighting with her, not against her. Her heart warmed. It had hurt him to see her mock die, yet her protective male hadn’t ordered her to stop fighting.

  He loved her for who she was—a warrior—and she appreciated that. “When facing outside threats, members of the same clan should always fight together.” She threaded her fingers through his short black hair, curving her hands around his skull. “You’re a part of my clan now, Vengeance.”

  “And you’re a part of mine,” he murmured against her skin. “We’re no longer alone, my warrior female.”

  “We aren’t.” Joy spread over her form.

  He carried her to the sleeping support, set her down, bent, removed her boots. She wiggled her toes in anticipation.

  “Are we fucking?” Her gaze lowered to his hard cock.

  “We don’t fuck. We breed.” He pulled off her flight suit. “There will be tenderness, caring, soft feelings.” He revised the words she’d told him early in their relationship. “We will also breed hard because we’re both warriors and we enjoy breeding that way.”

  “We do.” She reached for him.

  “But we’ll rest first, restore our energy levels.” He kicked off his boots and pushed her over, making space for his big body on the sleeping support.

  “Are you tired, cyborg?” She teased, knowing cyborgs didn’t require sleep.

  “I want to hold you.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her tight against his chest.

  His hard cock pressed against her, proof of his unabashed need for her. He was delaying their fucking…their breeding, for her.

  Not a fragile female, she had one more breeding left in her. She considered fighting him on that decision.

  But she remained silent. Being in his arms felt good. Sleeping beside him was yet another activity she’d missed during their stint of no-touching.

  He was with her now. His huge muscular physique cradled her smaller form. His breath wafted against her neck.

  She would allow him to win this battle. She closed her eyes, her lips curling into a small smile. They could breed when she woke.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Vengeance had bred with Astrid three times during the rest cycle, his exhilaratingly aggressive warrior female seeking satisfaction between durations of sleep.

  Three times hadn’t been sufficient. His gaze tracked her movements as she rushed around their chambers, gathering her weapons. He wanted her again.

  “The body covering didn’t stop shit during the mock battle.” She had donned chest and ass coverings, the leather pulling tight across her ass as she paced. “I have to build up my strength so I can wear proper body armor.” She touched the armor on his forearm. “Can I take this?”

  He nodded. Everything he had was hers.

  She transferred the piece from his forearm to hers. It covered her from the heel of her hand well past her elbow.

  “That will hamper your movement.” He warned. She’d find it challenging to bend her arm.

  “I can defend myself with my other hand.” His female extracted a dagger from one of her sheaths, spun it in her fingers.

  She could defend herself, but he would ensure that wasn’t necessary. He’d also ask some of his warriors to fabricate lighter body armor for his smaller human.

  She would want for nothing.

  And he had everything he needed. He gazed at her. He had his female, her caring, her insights, her resolve.

  She had claimed him as part of her clan. He realized the honor that was. His female would die for her kinfolk.

  She would die for him.

  As he would die for her. She was a part of him, irreplaceable, cherished, loved.

  The viewscreens buzzed, flashing light and dark. He gritted his teeth, yearning for more moments alone with his female. That was not to be. She had been befriended by many on the Homeland. He had his position on the council.

  “It is Medic Tifara, Death’s female.” He was a cyborg, didn’t require devices to communicate.

  “She’s here to scan me.” Astrid’s smile was sheepish. “That’s no longer necessary, but we’ll tell her that face-to-face.

  He authorized the doors to open. The human medic meandered through them, her head bent over her handheld, her lips moving. “I don’t understand why that didn’t work. It works on all viruses. It should—”

  Death placed a hand on his female’s shoulder.

  She stopped walking and talking. “What?” Her eyes widened as she saw Vengeance. “Oh.” Her gaze shifted to Astrid. “Ohhh…”

  His warrior female’s face turned an interesting shade of red. Unlike the rest of her kind, she wasn’t concerned about nudity. She did seem to be concerned about who knew they were breeding.

  He logged that logic inconsistency in his databases under information he should know about his female.

  “I assume the test is over?” Death’s female didn’t appear happy with that revelation.

  “The nanocybotics weren’t fading.” Astrid pointed out a fact the medic should have already known. “There was no need to prolong the experiment.”

  “Does this mean you won’t test ways to break your bond?” Medic Tifara frowned. “I’ve been working on several solutions. One of them might work.”

  A chill fell on Vengeance. He’d known Power was working on that project. He didn’t realize it was moving forward with his warrior female’s approval.

  Had he been that close to losing her?

  “My female—” Emotion smothered the rest of his words.

  “No.” Her gaze flicked to his face and her eyes widened. “No,” she repeated, rushing to his side. “I never wanted to break my bond with you, Vengeance.” She bracketed his cheeks with her palms, her firm grip on him reinforcing her statement. “If I had wanted to sever our connection, I wouldn’t have needed any help to do that.” She stroked his skin. “I would have simply killed you.”

  His anguish receded, his rational thought returning. This was his attack-first-consider-the-consequences-later female. She hadn’t been involved in any secret plot to break their bond. “You can’t kill me. You’re too slow.”

  “That’s not why I can’t kill you, cyborg.” She smiled at him, the caring in her eyes repairing the last of his emotional damage. “You know that.”

  Death huffed, reminding them they weren’t alone.

  “I’m not testing any other ways to break my bond with my mate.” Astrid leveled a hard glance on Medic Tifara. “I told Power that. Then I told you the same thing. Your male witnessed our conversation.”

  “I did.” The warrior’s head dipped.

  Death was a cyborg and cyborgs couldn’t lie. Vengeance didn’t need that confirmation, however. He trusted his female.

  “I thought you might change your mind about the tests.” Medic Tifara waved her free hand. “In the interest of research, of course. The nanocybotics operate like a virus. It should be possible to formulate a cure for them. But I need test subjects.” She looked at her male.

  “No.” Death crossed his arms. “You’re not utilizing us as test subjects. Concentrate on another project, my female. No one wants a cure for the bond between warriors and their females.”

  “Your male is correct.” Vengeance backed up the warrior. “No one wants a cure.” He clasped his warrior female’s hand, linking their fingers. “We tested the strength of the bond. It holds. That’s sufficient research.”

  “There’s no such thing as sufficient research,” the medic mumbled. “We can never know too much.”

  “You requested your freedom.” Vengeance addressed Death, abruptly changing the topic. He didn’t want to hear more chatter about breaking bonds. It was…distressing. “I will speak with the council and ensure you’re granted it.”

  It was a small reward for their priceless assistance. He squeezed Astrid’s hand.

  “We can leave the planet, visit the offspring of bonded couples.” Me
dic Tifara became animated. “I can verify the readings from other medics, examine how the virus—”

  “Our nanocybotics.” Death’s tone was dry.

  “Change from generation to generation.” Her gaze became unfocussed. “Will they be genetically compatible with other beings also? Is the virus—”

  “Our nanocybotics,” the medic’s warrior corrected yet again.

  “As strong in the second generation as it is in the first? How does it change from generation to generation? Are…”

  The female asked question after question, not pausing for a reply. Death gazed at the little medic with a fondness Vengeance felt for his own warrior female. The male would do anything for his human.

  Including bargain for their freedom.

  The request for their liberation hadn’t been made to benefit Death. It had been made to benefit Death’s female, to allow her to visit the offspring, further her study of their nanocybotics, keep future generations of cyborgs damage-free.

  Vengeance met Astrid’s gaze. They might manufacture some members of that future generation. The knowledge Medic Tifara gathered could be utilized to safeguard their offspring.

  He had been hindering those efforts.

  The paired warriors were protective of their females, of their offspring. They avoided the Homeland because they didn’t feel safe there.

  Because he, and some of his followers, had blocked decisions that would have shielded the bonded humans and humanoids. He had been vocal about his plans to expel non-cyborgs, had ensured they wouldn’t feel welcome on the planet.

  More than his relationship with his female had been damaged by his unrelenting stance.

  “I will be sharing information in a meeting chamber at the beginning of the second shift, Medic Tifara, Death’s Female.” He announced, breaking into her endless stream of words. “You and your male should attend that briefing.”

  The medic gazed up at him, her expression dazed. “You called me by my name.”

  “Warriors call you Death’s Female out of respect to him.” Vengeance’s voice was gruff. “I call you Medic Tifara out of respect to you.”

 

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