The Android's Kiss

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The Android's Kiss Page 1

by Michelle Marquis




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  Whiskey Creek Press

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright ©2007 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  THE ANDROID'S KISS

  by

  Michelle Marquis

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Published by

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  Whiskey Creek Press

  PO Box 51052

  Casper, WY 82605-1052

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright © 2007 by Michelle O'Neill

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-59374-936-1

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Molly

  Editor: Louise Bohmer

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To all those who have loved, lost and had the courage to love again.

  Chapter 1

  Puerta Vallarta, Mexico

  April, 2123

  The back room was dark, damp and filled with the stench of moist rot. Tinfoil was taped over two narrow windows to keep the glow of the streetlights out. The furniture consisted of two soiled wing chairs and a wooden executive desk. Elle Meyers walked inside, trying to breathe through her mouth to avoid the smell. She was followed by Dominick the Russian and his companion in crime, Nadia.

  Dominick was young, with dark hair and dead brown eyes. They were cold eyes, killer's eyes. He had a constant erection and some facial twitching. Elle guessed he was in the early stages of aphro-addiction. Nadia was no less scary, with long stringy, pink hair and sunken cheeks. She was also a cyborg—an early model Four-A, but Elle could tell she'd had some upgrades. Her movements were too fluid and clean for a pure Four-A. That was how she knew she was on the right track with these two. No criminal could possibly afford the types of upgrades Nadia had. No way.

  Elle swallowed her anxiety and sat in one of the wing chairs trying to look relaxed. Nadia took a seat behind the desk and Dominick sat up on the far edge. He was seated enough to the right that Nadia's view of Elle wasn't blocked.

  "What can you offer me?” Nadia said, leaning back in the swivel chair. She propped her feet up on the edge of the desk. Her pink leather pants shone under the poor light.

  Elle took a moment to catch her breath. When she finally spoke, the slight quiver of fear went out of her voice. “Like I said at the bar, I can get you black market parts. Not the synthetic stuff the pirates make, mind you, but name brand. You interested?"

  Dominick and Nadia exchanged glances. The tension in the air was as thick as the stench. Nadia traced her lips with her index finger thoughtfully. “Maybe. That depends on how much it's going to cost me."

  "All I want,” Elle said, “is a kilo of aphro, cut, measured and ready to sell."

  Dominick scoffed. “That kind of shipment will be very hard to come by."

  Elle's upper lip started to sweat. She tossed her hands in the air to show her exasperation. “Do you want the deal or don't you?"

  Dominick looked at Nadia. Her eyes were shadowed by the stark overhead lamp that lit the desk's surface, but did nothing for the other dark corners of the room. Elle's mouth was painfully dry. Take the fucking deal so I can get the hell out of here.

  A knock pounded through the room. It sounded like an atomic bomb as it boomed through the quiet. Nadia tossed her head at Dominick. He stalked to the door and opened it a crack. Glancing out, he opened the door wide to let the visitor in.

  The minute Elle saw those heavy black eyebrows and thick mustache, she knew she was in serious trouble. She resisted the urge to bolt for the door. Blood drained from her face, leaving her lightheaded. I've got to get the hell out of here.

  Nadia stood up, smiling, which made her look even more menacing. Her artificial eye gleamed amber. “Hector,” she said, “so glad you could join us."

  Hector, however, hadn't heard a word of Nadia's greeting. The only thing he looked at in the room was Elle.

  This is very, very bad. Elle pulled her blaster but Dominick seized her arm and took it out of her hand. There was nothing left to do but run.

  Elle pulled away from him and launched from her seat. She bolted for the door, but he grabbed her arm again. She slammed her fist into his jaw but it did nothing to loosen his hold.

  Nadia walked over and grabbed Elle's other arm. “You two know each other?” she said, casting a glance at Hector.

  Hector gave an evil, hearty chuckle. “Oh yes,” he said, in a thick Spanish accent. “We know each other all right.” He pointed a chubby finger at Elle as she struggled hard to escape. “Lady, here, is a cop."

  * * * *

  Proteus frowned and clenched his jaw as a gritty, broken transmission interfered with his tracking device. “What the hell is this?"

  His mind filled with the picture of a dark-haired beauty bound to a chair. She wrestled against her ropes as three shadowy figures stood before her. A metal bit gagged her, preventing her from uttering a sound. He tried to isolate which camera in the night club was recording the image, but as soon as he got close to identification, the transmission cut out. Proteus wasn't sure why he was receiving the transmission. After all, he wasn't here on a rescue. Annoyed, he blinked and cleared the signal.

  Finally focused, he strolled through the club, ignoring the flashing lights and pounding music. The music was so loud it penetrated him, filling him with its turbulence.

  He stopped by the crowded dance floor and let his mind reach out to the wireless mainframe system that ran the club. Frame by frame, pictures of each guest who had entered tonight passed through his thoughts. After a ten minute databank search, he found his mark.

  His target, Milton Frank, was a middle-aged accountant with all the trappings of success. He'd lived in an upscale part of the city with a trophy wife, two attractive children, and a Handy Bot maid. Then, one predawn morning, Mr. Frank decided he wanted a new life, so he picked up a Siren double shot pulse rifle and killed his whole family while they slept. Even the Handy Bot wasn't spared. That was two weeks ago.

  Twenty-four hours after the murders, Proteus received the order to carry out Milton's death sentence. He'd been hunting him ever since. The only problem was Milton had fled to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico until the heat wore off. That was his first mistake.

  If Milton had gone off-world, as most fugitives did, he might have bought himself some time. As it was, all he'd accomplished was making it very easy for Proteus to find and execute him.

  Proteus mentally pulled up the digital photo of Milton and rotated the 3D image from front to profile. Looking
toward the dance floor, he compared it to each of the male dancers. There was no match. He was about to walk toward the gaming rooms in the back when he glanced at the bar and got a match.

  Milton sat at the island bar on the other side of the floor. He was talking to a lovely, heavyset blonde while sipping his drink from a shot glass. His hand ran boldly up and down the woman's pale thigh, disappearing under the hem of her skirt from time to time. He appeared oblivious to anyone around him.

  Mistake number two.

  Proteus put on his most engaging smile and approached Milton and his companion. He walked up to them and placed his hand on the small of the woman's back. She turned and gave him a questioning look. “Milton,” Proteus said in friendly tone. He extended his hand. “How the hell have you been?"

  Milton looked confused. Then, deciding Proteus was a forgotten business acquaintance, he extended his hand. “How are you, Mr.—"

  Proteus didn't waste any time. Taking Milton's hand, he pulled him into a powerful embrace. He squeezed the man hard to discourage any resistance. Leaning forward, he moved his mouth up to the mark's ear. “In your absence, you have been found guilty of the murder of your wife and two children. You are earmarked for execution by court order. Do you have any statement to make for the record before I carry out your sentence?"

  Milton's female acquaintance leapt from her chair and staggered backward. “My God!” she shouted, clutching her purse to her chest.

  Milton fought Proteus's embrace will all the force he could muster. The android held him fast, detecting the strong odor of alcohol on the businessman's breath. Proteus squeezed him tighter, a perverse thrill flowing through him at the man's panic.

  Milton's face flushed red. He looked as though he might have a heart attack. “Let me go, you bastard! Somebody help me!” A few nearby customers moved further back. No one wanted to do battle with a killer android on a mission.

  Proteus touched his lips to the flesh of Milton's neck. He smelled New Spice aftershave. “I take it, Milton,” he said, grinning evilly, “that you have nothing to say.” His lips caressed the businessman's skin as he spoke.

  Milton was wild, thrashing against the embrace like a drowning man treading water. “Stop it,” he said, his voice emitting a high note of terror. “Let me go!"

  Proteus opened his mouth and placed his canines against the man's carotid artery. He rested the tip of his tongue against the racing pulse. “Just relax, Milton,” he said softly. “This won't hurt a bit."

  The businessman stiffened.

  Proteus released two deadly hypodermics from his canines. They descended with a slow, lethal grace and easily punctured the struggling man's neck. Proteus released the nerve toxin into Milton's bloodstream, pumping all ten ccs into him. A moment later, Milton's body went limp and his eyes frosted over into a chilling, artic white. The android released him, letting him sink to the floor, until the businessman lay at his feet.

  From a back room behind the bar, two disposal techs in soiled grey uniforms walked over. They looked bored. He gave them a copy of the Order of Execution and they slipped past him to dispose of the body.

  The transmission interrupted his thoughts again, only this time it seemed to be far more urgent.

  * * * *

  Elle's face stung from the slap and she tasted blood in her mouth from her cut lip. Helplessly bound to a chair, she did the only thing she could. She glared up at Nadia and imagined smashing in her pale, full lips. Don't you hit me again, you bitch.

  Nadia looked back at her two male companions. Elle knew Hector as a notorious Mexican gangster who specialized in the marketing and distribution of illegal aphrodisiacs. The market for the stuff had exploded in recent years, and there were big profits to be made for anyone in control of it. Hector had become a very rich man.

  She'd gone underground to infiltrate their organization and collect intelligence to bust up the ring. This should have been an easy assignment for a seasoned pro like her. Now she was here at their mercy. The only thing left was to hope her death was quick and didn't involve knives or chainsaws. Damn the crappy luck.

  As she sat there, she thought about how everything had gone so far. Brooding seemed appropriate now that her life was close to ending. It hadn't been a bad life, but it could have been so much more. She'd experienced sex, but found it more trouble than it was worth. She had thought about donating eggs to the baby banks but never got around to it. She'd never known her own parents, having been bred and trained for police work from the banks herself. The only thing she had was her work, which she loved.

  Except the part when she got caught as an undercover cop and killed—she could have done without that.

  The door burst open and a machine with long, spindly arms and a round body rolled in on a trolley. Nadia's eyes sparkled when she saw it. “She's not going to tell us anything. We'll have to use the Mind Bender on her."

  Hector looked at Elle, swallowed and went pale.

  Her captors took a few steps from her to discuss the merits of killing her verses using the Mind Bender.

  Elle took advantage of the momentary distraction to push the distress signal on her watch comm several more times. The signal was a faint SOS to any other officer in range. It was a long shot that anyone would be able to pick up the signal, but she was running out of options fast. Come on, come on! There must be someone out there who can pick up this signal.

  Dominick turned around, playfully flipping a butterfly knife. They all seemed to have reached a consensus about her fate.

  Elle's breath caught in her chest. She really didn't want to have her brain probed by the Mind Bender. She pushed her watch transmitter over and over again, no longer caring if her captors caught her or not.

  Dominick had the meanest eyes she had ever seen on a man. He flipped the butterfly knife open and closed menacingly as he stood by her. He was enjoying her obvious terror. “Such a shame,” he said, in a deep, thickly accented voice, “to disfigure such a lovely woman."

  Suddenly, another visitor arrived.

  He filled the open doorway with his powerful frame. He was a Viper Series android, built and programmed for the sole purpose of conducting executions. His eyes were two slivers of red light piercing the darkness, searching, scanning.

  Had Elle summoned this monster with her distress call? She knew they were supposed to receive all officers’ calls but she'd never heard of one conducting a rescue. She allowed herself to hope just a little.

  Elle heard Nadia gasp in fear as he entered the room.

  He was sinfully handsome in the way most killer androids were. Their attractiveness was a necessity; it made it easy for them to get close to their victims. His strong, masculine face was hard and dangerous, with chiseled cheekbones, a muscled jaw, and a bold, attractive nose. He was well over six feet tall and built like a college linebacker. He had close-cropped sandy-blonde hair and wore a tight fitting black t-shirt and jeans. He looked so casual, he could easily have passed for human when he'd entered the club. They only thing that set him apart were those eyes that shone as bright red as the fires of hell.

  His neatly pressed clothes strained around ever bulging muscles in his chest and legs. His movements were fluid, raw power, like a tiger's. Elle felt a sexy thrill just watching him. Aren't you something? Yum, yum.

  Her captors were at a complete loss on how to combat this new threat. The android moved forward, locking gazes with Dominick. The Russian pulled his blaster but it was no use, the android was on him in seconds.

  Grabbing the Russian by the collar, the android pulled him into a killing embrace. Nadia screamed and fired off two shots into the android's back but it did nothing to stop the attack. They left only two smoking stains where the bolts had hit. He was completely impenetrable, as he was designed to be. When Elle looked over at Dominick again, he lay on the floor, his eyes a stark, frosted white.

  Nadia and Hector too, were dispatched quickly, even before they could reach the doorframe. Elle exhaled slowly as a w
ave of relief overtook her.

  The android filled her vision, emerging from the scene of mayhem like he'd been forged from death itself. She stared up at him feeling helpless and drained. If he decided to kill her too, there wasn't much she could do about it.

  He reached down and snapped the metal gag off her mouth. She spit some blood onto the floor and ran her tongue along her teeth to make sure they were all there.

  Picking up the discarded butterfly knife, he walked around behind her and cut her ropes.

  Elle was so astonished by his actions, she didn't know what to say. She rubbed her freed wrists and stood up unable to believe her luck. “Thanks,” she said awkwardly.

  He rewarded her with a stunning smile. “Always happy to help out a lady,” he said.

  Then, without warning, he leaned down and kissed her.

  Elle wasn't sure how to react. His lips were soft and full against hers and she found herself turned on by it. For a moment, she gave herself over to him, letting him awaken and arouse her. His kiss grew hungrier, lustier, and more insistent and Elle found she was forgetting herself. This is crazy. Stop him.

  As gently as she could, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back. He broke the kiss, smiled, and licked his lips like she was candy.

  "What was that for?” she said.

  "It was my reward. I'd try for more, but I don't think you're ready. You've had a pretty long evening.” Then, without another word, he walked out, leaving her alone.

  A million feelings collected inside her at once. She wanted to be grateful to him, but just couldn't bring herself to feel much more than relief. This had been the first time she'd ever gotten that close to being snuffed. And she was determined it would be the last.

  Chapter 2

  New Tampa, Florida

  June, 2123

  Elle paced the room of her apartment sipping a beer at six in the morning. It wasn't normally her habit to drink so early but this was an exception. Since the incident at the bar in Mexico, she'd been put on suspension by the captain. It wasn't a sanction or reprimand, only mental health time, they'd said.

 

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