by Cynthia Sax
Nola swung her pack.
The accessory connected with his thick skull, the whack loud. He stumbled, cursed, wrenched the pack from her hands and slammed it to the ground. “Blasted female.”
The second male grabbed her arm, yanked her toward him. She thrashed wildly, trying to free herself.
There was a male behind her, another male in front of her. In her history lessons, being surrounded was never good for the defender.
The leader slapped her hard across the face. She gasped, tasting blood.
“Release her,” a male roared.
The second-in-command obeyed him, responding to the dominance in those two words without hesitation, not questioning the order.
The leader spun around to face the newcomer.
Nola’s spine straightened and her nipples tightened. She recognized the mystery male’s voice, had dreamed of it every rest cycle, his deep tones murmuring in her ear, brushing over her skin, meshing with her soul.
Barrel, the mystery male, was here.
She didn’t know how he had found her but he had.
“This is a warning,” Barrel announced. “Touch my female again and I will cut off your hands and shove them down your throat.”
My female. He’d claimed her as his. That thrilled her.
“Who the fuck are you?” The leader gazed in Barrel’s direction.
Nola looked also, eager to put a face to the voice. All she saw was darkness.
“Vacate the area,” Barrel ordered.
“Not without the pretty female.” The leader wrapped his fingers around Nola’s right biceps and squeezed hard. Pain shot up her arm.
She pulled away from him.
He howled, releasing her. The pressure on her biceps didn’t relent.
Nola gazed downward and shrieked. The leader’s severed hand still gripped her arm. “Get it off me.” She waved her hands in the air, dancing in place. “Get it off me.”
“I have it, my female.” There was a blur of black and the hand was gone.
“You bastard.” Crimson sprayed from the leader’s wrist. “I’m going to--”
His second howl was higher pitched.
Blood now gushed from both of the male’s wrists.
Nola’s head spun.
The leader waved his wounded limbs, coating the pathway with streams of red. “My males will finish--.”
A dagger pierced the male’s throat, stopping his words, muting his sounds of agony.
Nola bit back her nausea. There were two other males. Barrel would need her help.
She gazed around her for a weapon. There was a rock on the ground. She bent over, palmed it, turned to confront the males.
They twitched on the pathway, their legs kicking. A dark pool expanded around their bodies.
“Stars.” There was so much blood. Everywhere. The scent clung to the air. She gagged. “Are they--”
“They’re dead, my female,” Barrel calmly replied, his form hidden in the shadows.
Nola’s knees weakened. “You killed them.” She’d read about lives ending. She’d never seen it.
“I slit their throats, granting them a quick death.” Barrel spoke as though he’d done them a favor. “They didn’t touch you.”
“You slit their throats.” Feeling dizzy, she crouched. The closer she was to the ground, the less far she’d fall. “This is real. This isn’t a history lesson. You killed them.”
“I killed them.” He showed no signs he regretted the action. “I must now shove the other male’s hands down his throat.”
“Must you?” She stared at the rock in her hands, concentrating on its color, shape, weight, and not on the dead bodies around her.
“Yes.”
“Do you need my help?” Nola felt compelled to ask that question. Barrel had saved her.
But she hoped he didn’t require her assistance. She dropped the rock, her fingers numb, her ears buzzing.
“I need you to remain conscious, my female.” His voice was soft. “That would be helpful.”
“Then I can’t watch you.” She closed her eyes, having had enough real life experiences for the planet rotation. “Tell me when you’re done.”
It wouldn’t take long. He was the fastest being she’d ever encountered.
“You’re not human.” No human moved like he did. “What are you?”
“The male made a lot of noise.” Barrel didn’t answer her question. “Why haven’t other humans arrived?”
“This is a bad district.” She placed her hands over her ears, trying to block the choking sounds. “The occupants mind their own activities.” Or so she had read. “No authorities care about the humans here.”
“Yet you’re here.” There was a long pause. “What did you do with your hair? It’s much smaller this planet rotation.”
She winced. It had been out of control when he saw it via the viewscreen. “I tamed it.” She’d spent a quarter of a shift straightening it. “I’ll do that for your role too.”
“Don’t tame your hair for me. I prefer it wild.”
Something hard bumped against her lips. “What is--”
A leather strap slipped between her lips, muffling her question.
The male had gagged her.
“This is a precaution, my female.” He fastened the strap behind her head. “No one can know what I am.”
What was he? Nola gazed at very large boots, looked up, up, past powerful legs clad in black body armor, the skintight protective garment decorated with daggers, guns and other weapons.
Her head tilted back. Barrel had narrow hips, defined abs, a muscular chest, wide shoulders, gray skin.
Gray skin? Her gaze lifted to his face and she sucked in her breath. Barrel’s countenance was rugged perfection, his hair black, his eyes brilliant blue. A model number was inked high on his cheek.
He was fit, handsome, young.
And not entirely human. Battle history being a topic she’d often taught, Nola was familiar with every killing device the Humanoid Alliance had developed.
She knew what he was.
Barrel, the male she thought would be her Superior, was a cyborg. Half organic, half machine, a being designed to be a weapon and nothing more.
He didn’t run an Academy, didn’t want her to be one of his Experts.
He was manufactured for one purpose—to end lives.
And he had captured her.
That was the something wrong with the role.
Barrel picked her up as though she weighed nothing and draped her over his right shoulder. Where was he taking her?
She kicked and punched, yelling at the top of her lungs.
It served no purpose. The gag dampened all sound. Barrel didn’t appear to notice her struggle. He pinned her legs against him with one big arm and rushed forward, moving faster than any being should, his gait smooth. Lights streamed by them.
Nola smacked his back until her palms throbbed. He didn’t stop.
She’d been abducted by a cyborg. Her gaze lowered. A cyborg with a rock-hard ass. And a sexy voice.
He was a machine, a killer, she reminded herself. Barrel had killed the three males, easily, with no hesitation.
Protecting her.
No, not protecting her. She shook her head. He had gagged her, was carrying her away to who knows where.
Why was he abducting her? She was an Expert. She had no other skills.
Nola had come to that realization when she was searching for a role.
He moved silently up a ramp, through a ship, carrying her. The doors closed behind him. Barrel dumped her into a chair, restrained her arms with more straps. “That’s for your safety, my female. Take off will be a little rough.”
Take off? They were leaving the planet?
No, no, no, she yelled.
There was nothing she needed on Vulpeculae 5. Academies provided teaching supplies and uniforms. She had few personal items.
But she wasn’t emotionally ready to leave, not yet.
&nbs
p; Barrel didn’t appear to care. He claimed the chair beside hers, placed his palms on the control panel. Engines purred. The ship blasted upward, zigged, zagged. She was thrown against her seat.
Her abductor laughed. “Try to hit me, you Humanoid Alliance bastards.” A missile zoomed past the main viewscreen. The ship shuddered. “You’re too slow.”
Nola stiffened. Why were they firing at Barrel’s ship? Cyborgs fought for the Humanoid Alliance. They were on the same side.
And why was Barrel laughing? Cyborgs were known for being emotionless.
Though they were half organic.
She gazed at him. A smile curled his lips. A wayward lock of hair fell over his forehead. He appeared adorably young and overpoweringly male.
The missile bombardment stopped. The ship entered open space.
Stars twinkled in the blackness.
For a couple of moments, Nola gawked at the view, stunned by its beauty. Space was vaster than she’d remembered.
During that last voyage, it had appeared large, but the impact had been reduced by the small viewing porthole she’d gazed through.
She hadn’t seen space on a huge viewscreen as she was observing it now.
The ship moved farther and farther from Vulpeculae 5. Her gut said she’d never return to the planet and that scared her. It was the only place she truly knew.
She didn’t know Barrel. Her gaze returned to her captor. Over the communication channels, he’d seemed normal, attentive, intelligent, good-natured.
Yet he was a killing machine, a weapon.
For some bizarre reason, he continued to arouse her. Her nipples were tight. She squeezed her thighs together. Her pussy was wet.
Barrel breathed deeply, his nostrils flaring. “We’ll breed soon, my female.”
They would not breed. She frowned at him. He was a cyborg.
“Don’t look at me that way.” He crouched before her. “I had to mute your lovely voice.” Barrel drifted his fingers over her cheeks and she trembled, feeling his touch to her bones. “Merely saying the word ‘cyborg’ on a Humanoid Alliance-controlled planet could put millions of my brethren at risk.” He traced the gag, his caresses surprisingly gentle, at odds with his killer persona. “They can’t know we have escaped, that we have free will.”
Cyborgs had escaped. They had free will. One of them, Barrel, was touching her, looking at her with heat in his energy-infused blue eyes. Nola struggled to wrap her mind around his revelations, desire fogging her thoughts.
“You’re so beautiful.” The gag dropped to the floor. He gazed at her with pride, with desire. “I’m honored you’re mine.”
She wasn’t his. Nola licked her dry lips. “You deceived me.”
Barrel skimmed his fingertips down her neck, over her shoulders, leaving ripples of need in his wake. “How did I deceive you, my female?” He unfastened her bindings.
Her fingers tingled. “You don’t require an Expert. You don’t have an Academy.”
“I never said I had an Academy.”
Nola replayed their conversations in her mind. He was right. He hadn’t once mentioned he had an Academy. She had made that assumption.
“And we do require an Expert. The cyborgs have assumed responsibility for some family-less offspring.” He rubbed a red mark on her right wrist, stroking back and forth, back and forth. “Many of them are Tau Cetian.”
Tau Cetian. Nola stiffened. She had added that language to her credentials.
Her knowledge had been gained purely from study. She’d never spoken with a local. The Humanoid Alliance had blown up the planet, killing millions of beings. She’d never thought she’d meet a Tau Cetian.
He might not have deceived her but she had deceived him.
Her deception would be exposed. A wave of coldness swept over her. Children were brutally honest. Her lack of fluency, her ignorance of slang and more modern words, would be discovered once they landed.
“Does relaying information to Tau Cetian offspring cause you damage, my female?” Barrel studied her.
“No, of course not.” She summoned a smile, feeling like a fraud.
“One of the Experts expressed a loathing for all humanoids, said teaching them was a waste of her time.”
“She sounds like a horrible being.” Nola had, unfortunately, met Experts like her.
Barrel said nothing, his doubt tangible.
“I voluntarily studied Tau Cetian culture,” she explained. “Because I have an interest in it. I respect their beliefs.” The humanoids embraced the less-than-perfect. “I’d be honored to teach them, would consider it a rare opportunity.”
“Hmmm…”
“It’s the truth.”
“I believe you.” Barrel bent his head and licked her wrist. A bubbling sensation spread over her skin. “But I know something is causing you damage.”
That something was guilt.
She leaned forward, instinctually moving toward him. “You took me because you needed an Expert for the offspring.”
Offspring who wouldn’t be able to understand her.
Barrel lifted his head. His gaze locked with hers, the passion in his eyes taking her breath away. “I need you.”
He wanted her. Superior Colescott was willing to overlook her background if she granted him sexual favors. Would Barrel forgive her deception if she pleased him?
She wanted to please him, to touch him. “You desire me.” She placed her right palm on his chest. His cyborg heart pounded under her fingertips, the triple beats reminding her he was more than human. “You want to have sex with me.”
A flash of energy surged across his unusual eyes. “I want to breed with you.”
“Do you?” Her voice was husky.
“I do.” Barrel gazed at her with an expression resembling reverence, wonder, gratitude, and her resolve to have him strengthened. “I didn’t take you because you’re an Expert. There are many Experts in the galaxy. I took you because you’re mine.” He captured her face between his big hands. “As I’m yours.”
He was hers. She’d been on her own since she had four solar cycles. “Barrel--”
He covered her lips with his. She gasped, surprised by the contact, by his fervor. He plunged inside her mouth, slid his tongue along hers. The fizzing and popping enveloped her, moving down her throat, over her chest, along her arms.
It felt as though a million fingertips were plucking at her skin, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. “I’m bubbling.”
“Those are my nanocybotics,” he murmured against her lips.
They were sexy. She wanted more of them. Nola moaned, opening once more to him. He tasted like metal and male, the unknown and the known, the adventure of worlds not yet explored and the safety of a home she longed to find.
She couldn’t get enough of him. Needing more, she parted her legs. Barrel filled the open space with his fit form, pushing against her.
Stars. The pressure was divine. Nola rocked, threaded her fingers through his short black hair. The strands were sinfully soft, contrasting intriguingly against his hard scalp.
She shouldn’t be kissing him. He was her Superior and a cyborg.
But he had said all the right things, appealed to her in a way no other male ever had.
And this might be her last opportunity for happiness.
In this moment, he believed her to be an honest being, believed the false impressions she’d given him, that she was fluent in Tau Cetian, that she was an experienced intergalactic traveler.
Their tongues twined and his breath wafted over her skin.
When her deception was revealed, he’d be angry, furious, disappointed. But he desired her now and perhaps their passion would be enough to save her role.
That was what she told herself but she knew the truth.
She wanted him, would craft any excuse to have him.
“Breed with me,” Nola murmured against her cyborg’s lips.
Chapter Three
Barrel had watched his Nola
’s beautiful face during their departure from Vulpeculae 5, had seen her almost offspring-like wonder as they’d voyaged through open space.
His female was no jaded traveler.
Barrel understood why she had concealed her lack of experience from him. It was the same reason he never mentioned Ka-Na’s malfunctions. It might be perceived as a weakness, as a characteristic an enemy could use against her.
It damaged his heart that she saw him as a possible threat.
Barrel cupped her cheeks and lifted her gaze to his. Her skin was decadently soft under his palms. Her pulse raced. Was that due to excitement or to trepidation?
“Show me how to please you.” He’d sacrifice his pride to earn her trust.
Her eyes widened. “You want me to teach you how to breed?”
He required no lessons but if that misinterpretation of his words gave his little female confidence, he wouldn’t correct it. “You’re the Expert in human female biology.”
“I am the Expert.” The musk of her arousal intensified, the enticing aroma nearly shorting his circuits. “Remove your body armor.”
Her stern voice whipped over his already hard cock, exciting him. Barrel yanked on his body armor, rougher with his own body than he’d ever be with hers. The pieces clanged against the floor tiles.
His Nola gazed at him with admiration. He flexed his muscles, making them ripple, showing her he could protect her, if that was needed.
“Turn around.” The huskiness in those two words made his balls ache.
He complied, displaying his back, his ass, trusting her not to damage him.
“You’re perfect.” She drifted her fingertips over his shoulders, down his spine.
Barrel shuddered, her touch scorching him to his frame. He forced himself to remain still, every cell in his big form screaming to claim her, make her his.
“Face me.”
He did as his female ordered. She stood in front of him, close enough to grasp, the hair she previously tamed already rebelling, her lush physique clad in a curve-hugging flight suit.
“I’m truly in control.” Her smile warmed his insides.
He dipped his head. “I’m yours to command.”
His Nola placed her hands on his pecs, her possessive grip on his body thrilling him. “Then kiss me.” She tilted her head back.
