Ghost of a Machine

by Cynthia Sax

  “Crash,” he grumbled. “Danger.”

  “The crash was my fault.” She accepted full responsibility. “You suspected it was a trap and you were right.” She had thought, at the time, he was being overprotective. “They were waiting for us to lower our shields.”

  The Denebs had delayed their attack until their target couldn’t escape them. It had been a clever plan. The battle strategist in her admired it. And it had been effective. They had downed her warship.

  Her beautiful A Class Warship.

  Ghost rumbled with unhappiness.

  “The beings we were trying to rescue shot us out of the sky.” Lethe wondered how many other rescue ships the Denebs had destroyed, mistaking them for Humanoid Alliance vessels.

  If those tragic errors were happening on Deneb 9, it was logical that they had happened on Mercury Minor also. That realization eased her guilt over the invasion.

  She’d taken one seat. A ship could have held hundreds, thousands of beings.

  The stone floor shook under them. Dust swirled in the air.

  “Should we move to a safer location?” She would help him walk if he wasn’t able.

  “Safe.” He shrugged, his gaze remaining fixed on her face. “Already bombed.”

  The Humanoid Alliance was unlikely to waste missiles and bomb it again. Not immediately.

  “Then we can stay here for a while.” Lethe summoned a smile. He could heal, add a couple more layers of skin to his metal frame.

  Ghost grunted and pulled her closer to him. Her knees rubbed against stone, the friction heating her skin, exciting her.

  They were both naked. His cock was hard, pressing against her stomach. His chest brushed along her sensitive nipples. His face was in her hair, his warm breath wafting against her curls.

  Lethe wanted him now, always. Guilt was attached to that desire. Her thoughts of fucking were selfish. He’d been injured, had almost died. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “No pain.” He mouthed down her neck, leaving a trail of nanocybotics.

  Her breath hitched, her body aching for his. “You must be weak. You were badly damaged.” That comment was for herself, a reminder he was recovering.

  “Cyborg.” Ghost nuzzled into the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

  Her pussy dripped. “You need all of your nanocybotics.”

  “Make more.” He burrowed his face into the hollow between her breasts. “Repair faster.”

  “If you breed with me, you’ll repair faster?” She gingerly touched his chest, desiring that to be true, needing him.

  Ghost grunted, his breath puffing against her curves.

  That was a ‘yes’ type of grunt. Fucking him would hasten his healing.

  She wanted to fuck him. Very much.

  “Then breed with me.” Lethe lay back on the cool stone floor, drawing him over her, careful not to aggravate his wounds. “Let me heal you.”

  “No ship.” His eyes gleamed. “New deal?”

  Their previous deal was he could fuck her anywhere, anytime, as long as she had control of the warship. That warship had been destroyed.

  “There’s no need for a new deal. I never fucked you for the warship,” she confessed as she spread her thighs, opening to him. “I desired you from the first moment you spoke.”

  “Mine.” He prodded her pussy with his cock head, every bump of flesh against flesh spiraling her passion upward.

  “Ours,” she corrected. “That was your first word. You called the commander that and I was wildly jealous. I wanted you to myself.” She closed her thighs around his hips, keeping her boot treads flat on the floor. His ass remained damaged. She couldn’t wrap her legs around him.

  “Mine.” Ghost captured her lips in a hard kiss, driving her head back. He wasn’t as conscious of his wounds as she was. “Always.” He thrust into her, filling her pussy in one fluid movement with rigid cock.

  “Always.” She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest, having thought she’d never feel him inside her again. Their connection was as strong, as unbreakable as he was.

  And she believed in it, in him.

  Lethe gazed up at him. He gazed back, not moving, their bodies still, linked, their souls, their hearts in tune. Words weren’t necessary. She saw the caring in his brilliant blue eyes, didn’t try to hide her love for him.

  “Mine.” He withdrew to his tip, drove back into her, grunting with the motion. His fucking wasn’t gentle. He was a primitive male. But it wasn’t as vigorous as it normally was. Her cyborg was still recovering from his injuries.

  “Come quickly for me.” Lethe gave him permission for a fast fuck. She’d come when he did, his nanocybotics would ensure that, and she didn’t want him to strain himself, to suffer a relapse. His first recovery had scared the shit out of her.

  He rumbled, his chest vibrating against her nipples, and pounded into her, his gaze locked with hers. Lethe lifted her hips, meeting each thrust halfway. She was his equal, his, and she would protect him even from his own stubbornness.

  They rutted like savage creatures, free and alive, so alive. The floor trembled as missiles fell. Her arms and legs quivered. His did also, the tremors escalating with each surge forward.

  “Ghost, come for me.” She gave him one more opportunity to retain control of their encounter.

  He growled, his eyes flashing.

  “You are an obstinate brute.” And she loved every feral part of him, too much to allow him to hurt himself. She clenched her pussy around his shaft.

  He roared, driving forward. Hot cum splashed against her inner walls. Lethe bit his chin to muffle her screams. The chamber spun. Pleasure swept over her again and again.

  He pushed deeper and deeper into her, dragging her across the stone floor, pouring his essence into her, crazing her with bliss.

  When she thought she couldn’t take any more, he collapsed, flattening her.

  She squawked. He pulled his big body lower and rested his head between her breasts, breathing heavily, his weight comforting.

  She petted what was left of his hair, the action soothing both of them. “Are you damaged?” Had she asked too much of him?

  “Cyborg.”

  Her lips twitched. “Cyborgs aren’t invincible. I saw your back.” And his head, his arms, his legs, his ass. “I know you can be damaged.”

  He braced himself upward. “Protect.” His eyes blazed.

  She’d hurt her cyborg’s pride. “I have never doubted that you can protect me.” Lethe tugged on his shoulders, encouraging him to rest against her. “Never.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “I doubted that you would protect me,” she explained. “Because no one had ever had. I never doubted that you had the ability to safeguard me.”

  “Mine.” He lowered once more. “Protect always.”

  “And I will always protect you.” She threaded her fingers carefully through his hair, avoiding his wounds. “Because you’re mine. If you’re damaged, I want to know it.”

  “Cyborg,” Ghost grumbled.

  Lethe lifted her gaze to the ceiling. She wouldn’t win this argument. Her cyborg would never admit he was damaged. “I need to rest.”

  He shifted.

  She held on to him. “I feel safer with you on top of me.” She would force him to recover, use his need to protect her to benefit him.

  He murmured something she couldn’t decipher. She petted the sides of his head. His muscles relaxed. His breathing leveled.

  The stone floor under her body was unyielding. Her cyborg was heavy. The air around them was stale, stinking of old things. The bombing continued, rattling the containers on the multi-level support. And she didn’t know how they would make it off Deneb 9. They had no means of transport.

  But she wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else. They were as safe as two beings could be on a planet under attack and they were together.

  “Mine.” She whispered his favorite word.

  He was all she needed.
>
  Chapter Fifteen

  Ghost lay on top of his female as she slept. He monitored the terrain around them, guarding her. The fighting on the ground edged closer and closer to them.

  The warriors finally entered what he considered to be their space. He lifted his head, pushed himself upward.

  “What is it?” His female’s eyes opened.

  “Fighting too close.” He jumped to his feet, determined to end that conflict.

  “Are we moving?” She grasped her dagger, her small fingers closing around the hilt.

  “Stay.” He would quickly clear their terrain.

  “But—”

  “Protect.” Ghost waved his hands at the chamber. He could protect her in the underground chamber. No one would see her, touch her.

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Yes.” She nodded. “I’ll protect our space. I won’t allow anyone else to enter it.”

  That wasn’t what he meant but if her misinterpretation of his words kept her in the chamber, he wouldn’t correct her.

  She looked at the dagger in her hand and then at him. “You should take this.” She held the small blade out to him.

  Ghost didn’t move, stunned by the gesture. She carried that weapon with her always. When they first met, she had slept with it in her hands.

  And she was giving it to him.

  “Cyborg.” His voice was gruff. He didn’t require the dagger to clear their terrain of warriors. His bare hands were sufficient to do that.

  But he would always remember she had offered her little weapon to him. That knowledge would be held close to his heart.

  “You’ll be careful?” The caring in his female’s eyes warmed his soul.

  “Yes.” Ghost removed a container of beverage from his thigh compartment, handed it to her.

  She looked at it and then up at him. “You’ll return for me?”

  “Always,” he assured her. The sound of gunfire was now detectable by his enhanced auditory system. He had to leave her. “Mine.”

  He pulled her close to him, rubbed his hands over her back, burrowed his chin into her hair, wanting to take her scent with him.

  “Try not to kill the Rebels,” she mumbled against his chest.

  “Try.” If they threatened her, they would all die. He drew back from her, gazed down at his female, the being he’d trade his life to save.

  “I’ll ensure no one enters this chamber.” She pressed her lips together, looking determined.

  He’d ensure that also. Ghost grunted, turned, ran up the ramp. A scan of the exterior told him the warriors would be out of visual range.

  He pushed the slab of stone aside, exited their hiding place, took one last glance at his female’s upturned face, and replaced the square.

  She would be safe. He’d protect her.

  Ghost sprinted toward the conflict on the ground. His feet were shielded from the sharp edges of the debris by his boots, the gift his female had given him. The rest of his body was bare.

  He jumped over the rubble, raced around partially demolished walls. His speed was cyborg-fast, faster than a human’s vision system could lock on but he wasn’t operating at optimal levels.

  He wasn’t yet fully repaired. His sense of purpose offset that damage. He wasn’t running into battle for an enemy he hated. He was entering battle to safeguard the female he cherished.

  The faces of the other females, the females he’d failed, flooded his processors. The images made him wilder, more desperate to clear his terrain.

  His gaze locked on the battle. Two Rebels hid behind a small downed ship, their green hair and skin telling him they were Denebs. The female—obviously the leader—barked, demanding more projectiles. The male patted the ground around them, looking for ammunition. Even at a distance, Ghost could see there wasn’t any available.

  Three Humanoid Alliance warriors advanced. They were in full body armor, wore helmets, had long guns in their hands. One male lugged a huge weapons pack.

  The Rebels were outnumbered and outgunned. If Ghost waited, they would be dead within moments.

  But his female had asked him not to kill them. And without ammunition, they posed little threat to her.

  He turned his attention to the Humanoid Alliance warriors, racing toward them.

  They didn’t see him coming. He rushed them from behind, grabbed the first warrior’s helmet and tore it off his shoulders. The male’s skull was still inside. Blood spurted. The human’s arms and legs twitched.

  The other two warriors turned. Ghost yanked the long guns from their hands and then beat them with their own weapons. They shrieked. The metal dented. Bones crunched.

  The males fell to the ground.

  The Rebels stood, their useless guns in their hands, their mouths open. Ghost turned and glared at them. They didn’t move.

  He tore off one of the headless Humanoid Alliance male’s arms and threw it at them.

  That spurred them into motion. The humanoids ran, stumbling over toppled walls, scrambling to get away from him.

  His terrain was clear of threats.

  Ghost opened the Humanoid Alliance warriors’ pack, stripped the weapons off the males, put them with the rest. Their body armor was too small for him. It was also too large for his female but he could modify it.

  He sat on a block of building material, tore the other arm off the headless male. Blood splattered over his skin. He extracted a dagger from the pack, cut the body armor at the male’s waist, slicing into flesh.

  Ghost continued to monitor his surroundings as he fashioned a protective chest covering for his female. In the distance, the Humanoid Alliance pounded the ground with missiles, their ships hovering out of reach of the Rebels. Fires burned, filling the air with smoke and ash. A layer of gray covered everything.

  A small humanoid approached him. He heard her tread, caught a glimpse of her green skin. She took a couple of steps and stopped, took a couple of steps and stopped.

  He breathed deeply. Female. Ours.

  Protecting her wasn’t possible. His focus was on his own female, a female the newcomer was drawing nearer.

  He growled, expressing his unhappiness, stripped the protective chest covering off the corpse and shoved it into the pack.

  Too weak, too shell-shocked to heed the warning, the Deneb female edged closer to him, picking her way through the rubble. Her feet were bare, had been sliced by sharp pieces of the wreckage around them. The scent of her blood meshed with the other aromas.

  “Closer. I kill.” He glared at her.

  “You speak the universal language,” the female croaked, straightening. Her parched lips cracked as they moved. She was thin, her shapeless body garment hanging from her bony shoulders, her eyes large.

  Ghost grunted, eyeing her with irritation, discomfited by the emotions she stirred in him. His female had his first loyalty but he felt guilt that he couldn’t safeguard the newcomer. She belonged to one of his brethren.

  “Will you trade with me?” She waved her hands at the pack of weapons. “Give me one gun and you can have this.” She pulled down her body garment, showing him her small breasts.

  “Not Mine.” He wasn’t interested in anyone other than his female.

  “Please.” She swayed. “I’ll do anything you want.” She fell to her knees.

  Fraggin’ hole. When he looked at this Deneb female, he saw his own. She’d been alone on a war-torn planet also, had nothing other than her body to trade. Males had used her, giving her enough to survive.

  He wouldn’t use the Deneb female but he could give her enough to survive.

  Ghost studied the three males. His second kill had the smallest feet. He unfastened that corpse’s boots, plunked them on a block. The Deneb female could move faster with footwear.

  He searched through the pack, found two daggers, placed them beside the boots. She could trade one for whatever she needed, use the other to defend herself, hiding it in the front pocket of her garment.

  All of that would be useless if she d
ied of thirst first. He extracted a half-filled container of beverage from a thigh compartment and set it beside the weapons.

  “Yours.” He stood.

  Her gaze shifted to his gifts. “What do you want for that?”

  “Nothing.” Ghost hefted the weapons pack over one of his shoulders.

  The Deneb female narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t move to retrieve the supplies he’d left for her.

  He understood why she was wary. He’d view it as a trap also.

  Ghost didn’t have the time or the patience to reassure her. His female was alone. The planet was under attack. He strode away, not looking back.

  His scans said the terrain was clear but he’d complete a walk around it and visually verify that fact. While he was surveying the area, he’d scout for ships on the ground, preferably vessels that were undamaged.

  His first priority was protecting his female. His second priority was getting them both safely off the planet. To do that, they needed transportation.

  * * *

  When Ghost returned to the subterranean chamber, his female was waiting for him, her dagger in her hand, her lush body lowered in a combat stance, hidden in the shadows.

  She was concealed from human view. He was a cyborg and could see his little defender perfectly.

  “Safe.” His lips twitched. She was protecting the space as she had promised.

  “You are safe.” The relief on her beautiful face warmed his heart. “Thank the stars.”

  She slipped her dagger into the front pocket of her garment. It was similar to the one the Deneb female had been wearing. The fabric was primarily green with images of vegetation on it. It pulled tightly across her breasts and hips. The single leg opening stopped at her knee and swished as she rushed up the ramp to greet him.

  Halfway up the incline, she slipped on a patch of bryophyte. Her legs shot out from under her. She yelped, her arms waving.

  Ghost dashed forward and caught her before she fell. “Careful.” He pulled her to him.

  “Tell me all of this blood isn’t yours.” She patted his big body, her touching exciting him.

  “Not damaged.” He breathed deeply and frowned. A musty scent clung to her. He sniffed down her neck, between her breasts. “This.” He plucked at the garment.