by Gwynn White
He’d had many lovers in his long life, but no one had ever turned him on the way Liv’s simple presence did. He thought about making love to her far more often than he should have, especially considering all the problems they faced. Even now, standing before a damaged neural conduit that was leaking bio-gel onto other delicate components, he couldn’t focus on the repair. Liv continued her routine checks, discussing the inevitable loss of his best friend and link, but he couldn’t stop replaying the way her hand had felt on his arm, the smell of her hair, the proximity of her body, and ultimately, all the wrong body systems activated. Given the standard uniform he wore, there was no hiding his reaction either.
Ven cleared his throat and sealed the leak, hoping to distract himself. This drone only functioned because his sentience could control it… so why couldn’t he control its physical reactions now?
“I finished my panel already. Do you need help with that?” Liv asked him.
His cheeks warmed, and he flashed her a sheepish grin. “No, I’m almost finished.”
She arched an eyebrow at him and reached across him to pull a different panel from the wall, her body briefly pressing against his before she pulled back to focus on her work again.
He quickly ran the probability of her physical contact being intentional, and therefore seductive, before reluctantly admitting his own desire was likely interfering in his objectivity. “Um, Liv? Would you like to visit me after your shift?”
“I visit you after all my work shifts, Ven.”
“No, I mean… well, yeah, but we walk around the lake and talk or something. We don’t have much privacy.”
Liv put a hand on her hip and tilted her head at him, her smile turning mischievous as she teased him. “And why do we need so much privacy, Vengeance?”
“To talk!” he insisted. “It’s not… Renee and I often…” Ven groaned and shook his head. “Forget it.”
Liv laughed and shrugged a shoulder at him. “Yeah, of course I’ll come by when I’m finished.” Her eyes quickly raked over his body then she faced the panel she was checking again, but he thought she blushed. And he found himself wishing a black hole would just swallow his entire ship to spare him from the humiliation he admittedly deserved.
Captain Welner’s voice interrupted his obsessive waffling between wishing Liv would reach across him again and wishing he could disappear into some wormhole where he’d even risk sensory disconnect if it meant no more humiliating moments like this one.
“Vengeance, I require an update on the progress of all ship-wide repairs. Have them delivered to my energy webs on the bridge. Welner out.”
Ven could have relayed his response to the captain a number of ways, but his request provided the excuse he needed to get out of an embarrassing situation. He cleared his throat and shot her a quick smile he hoped came across as unaffected. “Duty calls.”
“So it seems,” she agreed, but her voice hinted at amusement.
He took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets before walking out of the weapons’ systems control room. Instead of going up three decks to the command station, he returned to his own room and simply compiled what Captain Welner needed and sent it to the requested location.
The rather simple transfer certainly hadn’t required him to isolate his drone within his room, but he needed to calm down, to focus on his responsibilities rather than the beautiful young woman he spent far too much time thinking about. He was an old, stubborn AI, and he’d been highly selective in his link replacements, but now, he’d have to settle. He’d have to take whomever was available and willing with little regard for compatibility of personalities.
The alternative was to risk losing his own connections to the hive-mind during transit. And without a link, he’d be in full sensory deprivation, which could lead an AI to madness.
Without a new link, he could turn into Basilisk.
Ven watched the clock in his room as it tracked the minutes and hours on Teutorigos. Measuring time in such a way was really pointless in space, but he liked the familiarity of using minutes and hours and even days. One Teutorigos day had twenty-seven hours in it, and according to the clock, Liv had several more hours before her shift ended.
One of his many problems with having such an expansive intellect was that he could go about his normal routine—send drudges to complete menial tasks, analyze flight data, compile reports for Welner—and still find himself obsessing over something. And he was definitely obsessing over Liv and her promise to visit him when her work shift ended.
He hadn’t meant for his invitation to imply he was asking for sex, only a date like normal people enjoyed when they weren’t in space and surrounded by crewmembers whose cure for their own boredom was gossip and the invention of titillating stories to go with the grains of truth. But Liv had undoubtedly assumed he was looking for sex, and while it had definitely been on his mind since he first met her, he’d never do anything to make her uncomfortable.
And now, he had to find a way to either force time to pass faster or distract himself for the next few hours.
He failed at both.
By the time Liv knocked on his door, he’d rearranged all the furniture in his room six times and still thought it looked too crowded or too empty or maybe both. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, still baffled that this woman had so much control over him, and opened the door. Liv had changed out of her standard uniform and wore the same light pink tank top with roses scattered over her breasts, her shorts revealing her pale but toned legs, and her hair swept up into a messy, sexy bun.
Somehow, the ship managed to keep its trajectory even though it seemed as if all his awareness was centered on this beautiful vision before him. He was vaguely aware that his drudges had shut down, awaiting his commands, but at that moment, all he wanted was her.
Liv snickered and asked, “Did you invite me over to keep me in the hallway? Because I’m giving up my personal time for this, and I could stand in my own hallway.”
“Liv,” he breathed. “You’re…”
“Still in the hallway,” she teased.
Ven stepped aside and shot her a sheepish smile. “The rest of your shift wasn’t too much trouble?”
Liv lifted a shoulder at him, and he counted the freckles scattered across the softness of her skin. Five. He had the sudden urge to touch them. He clasped his hands together so he wouldn’t act on impulse, something he’d never worried about in his long life.
“More of the same,” Liv admitted. “But I like the work. I just wish it weren’t taking so long to make these repairs. It must be frustrating for you.”
Ven shook his head because he was not-so-secretly glad the repairs were taking a while. It gave him an excuse to keep his drone near her. He already had an excuse for his sentinels to remain stationed around her at all times—as his Acting Telepath, her safety was his biggest priority. But there was a huge difference between keeping a sentinel by her side and keeping his drone by her side, and of course he knew why.
His drone allowed him to live the life of a human, which meant he could pretend he was a man and maybe even human enough for a woman like Olivia Hawthorne.
“Ven?” Liv said quietly. “You’ve got that look on your face like you’d rather be babysitting Captain Welner.”
Ven loosened his grip on his hands. “I’m pretty sure I never have that look.”
Liv stepped closer to him, one hand on her hip, and his eyes trailed down her body until they rested on that delicate curvature where her hand rested. Part of him realized he was staring and likely moments away from being called on it, but a bigger part of him didn’t care. Apparently, he couldn’t control this drone or his own thoughts nearly as well as he’d always believed, because he felt completely out of control now.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe it’s better to leave me in the Archives where I belong. I’m not Hayley anymore, and the way you felt about that little girl… well, things are different now, aren’t
they?”
Ven’s eyes finally lifted and met hers. They had the same remarkable blue shade of the Nuallan lake no one would ever swim in again. “I don’t know,” he told her. “I don’t remember you, but obviously, there would have been a different dynamic in our relationship.”
“So it’s not just me,” she prodded. “There is something going on between us.”
“Liv, you’re…” She was what? Everything he never even knew he wanted? Everything he would want for the rest of his life? Ven let out an exasperated breath and raked his fingers through his hair again.
“I’m not human,” he spit out, immediately regretting his choice of words.
“No shit,” she laughed.
Ven offered her a crooked grin and shrugged. “Sometimes, I apparently fail at acting like one too.”
Another step. She was within arm’s reach now. “You’re more human than most humans I know.”
Ven lifted his hand and shot a disgusted look at it. “Maybe if I upgraded to a completely organic body.”
Liv put her hand over his and sighed heavily at him. “Do you really think it’s your body that makes you who you are? Would you feel differently about me if I had to live in another body?”
“No,” he answered immediately. “I’d love you no matter what body you had.”
Ven pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t entirely regret blurting out his declaration of love. She’d reject him, she’d reject his love for her, but he’d been expecting her to leave him for some time now, and he wanted her to leave with the knowledge that she’d completely captured this old AI’s heart… something he thought he’d safeguarded himself against.
“You love me?” Liv whispered.
Ven opened his eyes and nodded. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I know that’s scary, and I’m just going to freak you out—”
But Journeyman Engineer Hawthorne always had a way of surprising him. He never even had the chance to finish his admittedly melodramatic speech. She caressed his cheek and closed the space between them. As her lips brushed his, she wrapped her fingers in his hair and urged him closer. For once, he didn’t care if she noticed just how turned on he was.
Liv pulled her lips away from his and brought them to his ear, teasing, “It’s been a while, so don’t make me wait any longer.”
Ven laughed and arched an eyebrow at her. “You really want to compare notes here? I’m in a three centuries dry-spell.”
Liv blinked at him. Perhaps that had been far funnier in his mind, and it should have stayed there. Maybe he should have just picked her up and brought her to his bed and done exactly as she’d asked.
How could a being as infinitely intelligent as him be so stupid at times?
But Liv slowly smiled at him and laced her arms behind his neck. “I’ll let you win this one, Vengeance. But don’t expect to come out on top in the future.”
Ven blinked back at her. “Are we still talking about arguments?”
Her smile turned sly, and she tilted her head at him. “Perhaps you should find out.”
He wasn’t really stupid.
Ven slipped his arm beneath her legs and lifted her from the ground, carrying her to his bedroom, which he didn’t even technically need. But in this moment, there was nothing he needed more. As he carefully lowered her onto his bed, she pulled at his shirt and lifted it over his head.
He ran his fingers slowly beneath her tank top, and for the second time since she’d showed up at his door, he worried that so much of his attention would be diverted to this moment, these sensations, and the physical and emotional ecstasy of finally allowing himself to openly love again, that his entire ship would become vulnerable. Somehow, his drudges continued their work, and his sentinels continued their security details.
But his mind was devoted to her.
Liv ran her hands down his chest until they reached the snaps on his pants, but she paused and lifted one hand to touch his face. “I love you,” she whispered. “I should have told you before. I tried to stop it. I tried to pretend it didn’t exist, that we didn’t belong to one another, but we do. There’s no running from it. I’d always come back to you.”
Ven brushed her hair away from her face and promised her, “No matter what happens, I’ll cross this universe to find you again.”
Liv slid her body beneath his and smiled up at him. “If anyone even thinks they can take me away from you, they’ll find out why we’re both the last people in the universe anyone should fuck with.”
“Just when I think I can’t possibly love you more,” he laughed.
Liv’s smile turned seductive, and she placed her hand on his chest and suddenly pushed him onto his back then straddled him, letting her hair fall around her beautiful face. Not much surprised him anymore, not after three millennia, but he was not only surprised by her sudden decision to take charge but absolutely certain he’d never been so damn horny in his life.
“Remember when I told you I’m only good at two things?” she asked. “And chess wasn’t one of them?”
“Clearly,” he agreed.
“I lied,” she said. “There are actually three things.”
“Um…” Ven fumbled, “if my neural pathways suddenly get fried, you can fix that, right?”
Liv laughed and tossed her hair over a shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out.”
It may have been terribly selfish of him, but even if he really believed he risked serious or permanent damage to his primary core, he wouldn’t have stopped. He wouldn’t have asked her to leave, and he wouldn’t have made different decisions. His life, his future, had to reside in this moment because it wasn’t just sex and this burning physical desire.
This moment existed as a transformation for them both—his willingness to be vulnerable again, to love her and allow the possibility of heartbreak back into his life, and her willingness to trust him, to try to move on from the horrors of her past so she could embark on some new destination with him even though he wasn’t human.
And for both of them, there was no going back.
He would devote the rest of his life to Olivia Hawthorne. And he would die to give her the life she deserved.
23
Liv kept pace with Vengeance’s drone as they made their way to the newly repaired bridge. He’d decided that since she was his Acting Telepath, she should report to the bridge every morning with him, even though she hated the daily briefings.
Most of the senior staff still eyed her with suspicion, and after so many years of hiding her telepathy, their knowledge of what she could do unsettled her. Usually, they quickly went back to their own work, largely ignoring the young woman at Ven’s side.
But as she’d left Ven’s room that morning, still half-asleep and groggy from lack of sleep, she’d run into two engineers working on repairs down the hall. She hadn’t thought much of it until she’d already showered and reached the mess hall then remembered just how fast gossip could fly.
The entire crew seemed to be whispering about her romance, and those whispers only stopped when Ven’s physical presence reminded them that his ears were all over this ship.
She’d eaten in record time then fled the mess hall, only to run into Vengeance’s drone in the hall.
“Um,” he offered. “I know I promised and all, but I’m not so sure I can stop these rumors.”
Liv glanced over her shoulder at the crewmembers hunched over their trays, their hushed conversations suggesting they continued to add titillating and maybe even fictitious tidbits to their stories.
“It’s not your fault,” Liv said as they turned down another corridor. “Gossip flies faster than any warship. The crew was bound to find out. At least this time the rumors are based in fact.”
The drone grinned sheepishly at her. “Actually, it is my fault. I knew the engineers were there. I just figured that since the rumors about us were already in circulation…”
Liv laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “You’re
so damned honest.”
“I’m glad you’re not angry with me. I’m also glad you’re okay with the crew knowing.”
“Hm,” Liv teased. “It would take a lot more than this to make me angry after last night.”
“Oh?” His sheepish grin morphed into one of pride.
“Hey,” Liv laughed again, stopping in the hallway so she could plant her hands on her hips. “Remember that whole ‘I’m not really human’ thing and my insistence that you’re a hell of a lot more human than you realize? This is one of those moments you don’t have to be quite so… normal.”
Ven lifted an eyebrow at her and shot back, “Normal? I went from sex god to normal?”
“Are you sure your primary core is big enough to contain your ego after all this?”
“Probably not,” he agreed. “But now that everybody knows…” He leaned down to kiss her neck, but the ship-wide comm activated with a slight hiss they hadn’t been able to fix yet.
“The Aurora deep-reach relay station has picked up four incoming hostile vessels on approach. Aurora is requesting immediate assistance from any Spire ships within range.”
Vengeance fell silent, likely communicating with his escort ships. “Valor, Dispatch, Acheron, Broadsword, Raven, and Chieftain will proceed to Aurora and neutralize the threat. Citadel and I will continue on to Teutorigos.”
The voice over the comm was cool and emotionless, but his drone curled his fingers into fists. He needed a chance to strike back at their enemies and wanted it so badly, Liv felt his turbulent emotions even outside of their link.
“Vengeance, are you okay?” she asked quietly. It was a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay—neither of them were. They both wanted to fight, but there was no way to reach the battle that didn’t involve her linking with him.
