“Her stomach was growling,” Zorlok said.
Wrylack gently picked up Mishka and cradled her against his chest. “We’re going home, to see your mother. She’ll be so happy to see you.”
“We’re making a stop on the way,” Zorlok said. “I arranged for us to go to Alpha9. I thought you might want some clothing and toys for her, since she didn’t come with anything other than what she’s wearing, and what better place to find them than the trading post?”
“Thank you,” Wrylack said. “I’m afraid I hadn’t thought of that, and since we don’t have children on Xpashta yet, it’s doubtful we have anything there for her. As anxious as I am to return to Shaylee, I want to make sure Mishka is properly cared for as well.”
“I sent a message to the commanders. They’re going to let your mate know that you’re safe and will be returning soon.” Zorlok clapped him on the back. “Your daughter is a beauty. Guard her well.”
Wrylack carried Mishka to the room he’d been assigned. They’d placed an extra cot in there, and he eased her down onto it. She finally bit into her piece of fruit, finishing it quickly, and curled up on the bed. He wondered when she’d last eaten, and anger surged inside him again. Wrylack drew a blanket over her, then sat on his own bed and watched her. She stared back at him, but she didn’t seem afraid. For some reason, she seemed to trust him, as if she understood he was going to protect her. Now that she was under better lighting, he saw the bruises marring her arms and legs. It infuriated him that someone could harm a defenseless child.
“No one will ever hurt you again, Mishka. I will bring death to anyone who dares to harm you,” he promised.
He didn’t know how much of his words she understood. It had been a long time since he’d been around someone so young, but she seemed to find comfort from the sound of his voice if nothing else, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she was resting peacefully. He felt the Mystic7 lift off and couldn’t wait to see his mate once more. He only hoped that Norkov would have good news about the second child, but for now, they would focus on Mishka. She was here, safe, and he would do anything to make sure that didn’t change.
Garva was several days journey from Xpashta. Even though he’d slept little since leaving his planet, Wrylack spent most of his time watching over Mishka and introducing her to the other cyborgs on board. He’d wiped her off with a cloth, but hadn’t had any clean clothing for her. She seemed hesitant around everyone, clinging to him like she was afraid he’d pass her off to someone else and never return. When they reached Alpah9, he carried her through the marketplace. Mishka kept her face buried against his chest most of the time, but Zorlok helped him select clothes and a few toys for her.
“Children grow quickly,” one merchant said. “You should purchase a few things in a larger size so your daughter can grow into them.”
Wrylack thought it was sound advice and picked up four more outfits, so Mishka wouldn’t go without when she grew a little more. As long as she had a few things to get her by, he could always travel to Alpha9 for more later. It was only a day’s journey from Xpashta. The rest of the crew picked up some things they either needed or wanted, and then they loaded everything back onto the Mystic7 and began the journey home.
Zorlok followed Wrylack back to his room, setting Mishka’s new things down on the bed. His daughter hadn’t bathed or been changed in days, and while it seemed she knew how to go to the bathroom on her own, she still needed to be clean before she saw her mother. He supposed the male who rescued her hadn’t bathed her, fearing it was inappropriate. If the warrior was like Wrylack, he likely hadn’t been certain of the proper protocol for taking care of a female child. The bruises were fading on her arms and legs, and Wrylack had done a scan of her small body, thankful not to find any lasting damage from her time with Bekvir.
“Mishka, have you ever used a cleansing unit before?” he asked.
She stared at him and didn’t say anything. In fact, she had yet to utter a single word, and he started to worry that perhaps she didn’t know how to speak. Wrylack led her by the hand into the bathroom and started the cleansing unit. She stared at it wide-eyed, and didn’t protest when he removed her small clothes and nudged her under the water. The bottom of the unit turned brown from the dirty water running down his small daughter, and he knew she needed some soap, but he wasn’t about to touch her in any way that might make her uncomfortable. Instead, he tried to show her how to do it herself. She didn’t do a perfect job of getting clean, but was much improved.
“We’ll let your mother work more with you on that,” Wrylack said. “I’m not certain of the rules about daddies bathing their daughters.”
The unit shut off, and Wrylack turned on the dryer. Her hair gleamed under the lights now that she was clean. Unfortunately, her bruises were more pronounced now that her skin was even paler than before. He knew Shaylee was not going to be pleased that her daughter had come to harm. Wrylack helped Mishka get dressed in her new clothes and showed her the toys he’d purchased for her. While she played, he observed her and did another scan of her body, focusing on her bones and then her head.
He couldn’t detect any brain damage that would keep her from speaking and decided she’d either never been taught, or chose to be silent for whatever reason. He pointed to different things around the room, telling her what each item was. She watched, and seemed to be paying attention, but she still didn’t utter a sound. There had to be something he was missing. With her head tilted back as she studied the ceiling, he did yet another scan, this time focusing on her throat. He adjusted his gaze to study the soft tissue more than the bones in her neck. It was so faint he wasn’t surprised he’d missed it before. Fury engulfed him at the horrors this small girl had been through.
Wrylack slowly reached for Mishka and pulled her onto his lap. Turning her head sideways, he ran a finger down the column of her neck, pushing her hair aside. There was a faint pin prick, large enough for a small rod to have been pushed through, and he found a match on the opposite side. While her vocal cords hadn’t been completely severed, there was just enough damage that it probably made speaking uncomfortable for her, or perhaps she didn’t like the sound of her voice. It looked like the rest of her throat had healed well enough not to hinder her from drinking or eating. Tears gathered in his eyes as he held her tightly.
“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” he murmured. “I will do whatever I can to make it better.”
There were options, but he didn’t know if Shaylee would approve. Mishka was too young right now, but as she grew, cybernetics would be a possibility to correct the issue. It was possible that surgery could help, even though it wouldn’t correct the problem completely, but that seemed rather harsh for someone so young. In the meantime, they would need to find a way for Mishka to communicate with them. He rocked her in his arms until she fell asleep curled against his chest. Wrylack knew he should prepare Shaylee, get word to her before they landed, but he didn’t want her more stressed than she already was.
“We’ll get you home to your mother, and then we’ll figure things out. You’re safe, Mishka. That’s the important thing.”
He continued to hold her as she slept. Even though she was not of his blood, he already felt as if she were his. Perhaps, over time, she would forget the trauma she’d suffered at the hands of Bekvir. She was still so young. He hoped she would be able to live a full and happy life without darkness clouding her future.
“I love you,” he whispered to the girl sleeping in his arms, and vowed to tell her that every day for the rest of his life.
Chapter Eight
Shaylee paced the house, more than a little nervous. The commanders had sent word that Wrylack was returning today. They’d assured her that Wrylack was fine and hadn’t been injured during his trip, but she still felt like something was horribly wrong. The feeling wouldn’t ease no matter what she did. When the front door opened, Shaylee froze and stared.
Wrylack stepped through, a small girl in his
arms. Her skin was such a light lavender that she was nearly as pale as Shaylee. Her black-and-blue-streaked hair was mesmerizing, and her eyes… her eyes looked like that of every cyborg she’d met since coming here. Wrylack set the little girl down, and Shaylee tried to understand what she was seeing.
“She could be your daughter,” Shaylee said. “A mix of both of us, except for the blue in her hair.”
“The blue is a throwback to the original people of my home world.” His gaze was assessing. “This is Mishka. She’s half human… and half Zelranian.”
Shaylee’s heart nearly stopped. “What? But that’s… you’re Zelranian.”
He nodded.
Shaylee stared at her daughter and knelt, holding her arms open. The little girl clung to Wrylack’s leg for a moment before cautiously moving forward. As Shaylee studied her, she saw the slight bruising and wondered what her poor baby had been through. Mishka stopped in front of Shaylee and reached for her hair, playing with the long, black strands.
“I’m your momma,” Shaylee said. “You’re home now, Mishka.”
“She can’t talk. Or won’t,” Wrylack said. “There’s some damage to her vocal cords. I haven’t heard her make a single sound yet, not a cry, a whimper… nothing. I’m uncertain if the damage was bad enough she’s unable to make noises, or if she’s refusing for some reason.”
Shaylee lifted her eyes to her mate, fighting back tears. “What did they do to her?”
“Her birth father had her. He’s one of my kind. I’ve always loathed Bekvir and everything he stood for. He’s a cruel male, and it seems he had no problem harming his own child. He’s been dealt with.”
“Bekvir,” she whispered, digging through her memories. She gasped when she recalled the male similar in coloring to Wrylack who had done so much damage to her. All of the faces of her past tended to blur together, but his didn’t. He’d been worse than the others, more vicious, and had thrilled in her pain and humiliation. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she held her daughter tight.
Wrylack let the door close and came toward them, wrapping them in his arms. “He won’t hurt either of you ever again. I was assured he wouldn’t remain breathing for much longer, and that was days ago. By now, he’s gone.”
“I hope he suffered,” Shaylee said.
Wrylack tightened his arms around them.
“Are you both hungry?” Shaylee asked. “Maggie’s been by the last few days to show me how to make some different dishes. I could cook something for us.”
Mishka tugged on her.
“What is it, sweetheart?” she asked her daughter. “Do you want to eat?”
Mishka blinked up at her.
“Can you talk, Mishka?” Shaylee asked. “Can you tell me what you want?”
Fear crossed the girl’s features, and Shaylee’s gut clenched. She knew that look, had seen it on other slaves. Whatever had been done to her daughter, she feared speaking.
“It’s all right to talk here,” Shaylee said. “You won’t get in trouble if you make noise. I want you to make noise! Make all the noise you want. Scream, laugh, bang things.”
The little girl’s eyes widened, and she looked from Shaylee to Wrylack, as if seeking assurance.
“Your mother is correct, Mishka. It’s all right to speak or make any sounds you wish. You won’t be punished.”
“Hungry,” the little girl said, her voice a raspy whisper.
“You’re hungry?” Shaylee asked. “You can talk louder if you want.”
Mishka stuck her thumb in her mouth.
Shaylee took Mishka’s other hand and began leading her to the kitchen. She set her daughter at the counter. Wrylack placed his hand at Mishka’s back and rubbed gently. After a moment, the little girl pulled her thumb from her mouth. Mishka watched Shaylee’s every move, and Wrylack watched their daughter.
Lathim had provided several fish for Shaylee to cook, and she prepared them for her family. They’d already been cleaned and deboned. She seasoned them, and while they cooked, she made some vegetables on the side. It didn’t take long for the meal to be ready, and she plated everything, then joined her family at the little bar.
Mishka looked at the fish and poked it with her finger.
“It’s fish,” Shaylee told her. “Have you ever had fish before?”
Mishka shook her head.
“I couldn’t get her to eat meat on the ship,” Wrylack said.
“Mishka,” Shaylee said softly. “Were you allowed to eat meat at the other place?”
“No,” Mishka said in that same raspy whisper.
“You can have as much as you want,” Shaylee said. “This is your home now. Do you understand? You’re going to live here with us from now on. No one will hurt you ever again.”
“Bad man,” Mishka said.
“The bad man is gone,” Wrylack said. “He’s not going to come for you. You’re safe here, Mishka.”
Mishka slowly reached for the fish. When no reprimand came, she started stuffing her face until the plate had been cleaned. It hurt Shaylee’s heart to know her daughter had suffered. But she knew the little girl would be well-loved now, not only by her but by Wrylack as well. A chime sounded at the front door, and Wrylack went to answer while she cleaned the kitchen. He returned a moment later, his arms full of clothes and toys.
“Mishka’s things were delivered. Do you have a particular room set up for her?” Wrylack asked.
“I put her next to us. I found a blanket in the market that I put on the bed. It’s a soft green, and I thought the color might be soothing. The commanders assured me that anything we need they can find for us.”
Wrylack nodded and carried their daughter’s belongings to her new room.
“Do you want to see your bedroom?” Shaylee asked.
Her daughter whimpered and turned stiff as stone.
“Mishka? What’s wrong?” Shaylee smoothed the little girl’s hair.
“Dark,” she said.
“No, honey. It’s not dark in there. You have a window where you can look out, and there’s a light for when it’s nighttime.” Shaylee reached for Mishka’s hand. “Come on. I’ll go with you and you’ll see it’s a pretty room. We can decorate it however you want.”
Mishka followed her, but the little girl’s steps were hesitant. Shaylee stepped into the bedroom and gently tugged Mishka in behind her. Light spilled through the window, and the green blanket made the room look a little cheery. Wrylack had placed a stuffed bear on the bed, and the rest of the toys were lined up along the wall. Her clothes were already put away.
Mishka ventured a little farther into the room, looking at everything.
“Come here,” Wrylack said, waving her over.
She went straight to him without any hesitation, and he lifted her into his arms. They walked over to the door, and he pointed to the area around it.
“This door doesn’t lock. Not from either side. If you want to leave, press your hand to the door and it will open. Why don’t you try it?” He set her down, and Shaylee stepped away from the door so it would close. Mishka whimpered, then pressed her chubby little hand to the panel and it slid open.
“See? It will never lock,” Wrylack said.
Mishka smiled up at him and hugged her arms around his leg.
“Do you want to stay in here and play?” Shaylee asked. “This is your room, your own space. You can play in here or sleep. The other door is the bathroom.”
Mishka looked at the other door in curiosity. It was an open doorway, and when she stepped into the bathroom, the light came on. She explored a moment, then went back to the bedroom and started playing with her toys. She paused as Shaylee and Wrylack were leaving, looking at them with a trembling lower lip.
“Safe?” Mishka whispered.
“Yes, baby. You’re safe,” Shaylee said.
That seemed to be enough for Mishka, and she started playing, ignoring her parents. Wrylack led Shaylee out of the room and into their own space next door. When the door clos
ed behind them, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.
“I missed you,” he said.
“I missed you too. Wrylack, what happened to her?”
“It looks like they inserted rods into her throat and damaged her vocal cords. The wounds look old so I think they were done when she was a baby. Maybe she cried too much. Bekvir is a monster, and it wouldn’t have taken much to set him off. Or he was. She was covered in bruises when I picked her up, but they’ve mostly faded now. I can’t say for certain what all she’s been through the last three years, but they found her in a dark room with no windows. She’d been fed on the floor like a pet.” He paused. “When she’s older, it’s possible that surgery or cybernetics could help her, but for now the damage is irreversible. She’s too young to chance it. She can communicate with us, and she’s safe. That’s the important thing.”
Shaylee wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest. She cried silently, for all that her daughter had suffered. How could anyone have harmed a child? She was innocent! And from what little Shaylee had seen, so very sweet. But then, the man she remembered as Bekvir wouldn’t have cared how innocent or sweet a child was. He would have done anything in his power to destroy her, and Shaylee was thankful that her daughter lived at all.
“Thank you for bringing her home,” Shaylee said.
“She’s my daughter as much as yours,” Wrylack said. “Once I knew who had her, there was no question about bringing her home. I wanted to give your children back to you, no matter what it took, but I just didn’t know how we were going to pull it off. We’ve been exiled from Zelran and would have been put to death if we’d landed on the planet.”
“How did you get her?”
“Norkov made a deal with some males. He arranged for one to get Mishka and the other to get Bekvir. We met them at the Garva outpost.”
Offered to the Cyborg Page 9
