Claimed by the Alien Warlord: A Science Fiction Alien Mail-Order Bride Romance (TerraMates Book 14)

by Lisa Lace

  In the far corner, a familiar-looking clear box stood between the workbenches and a stack of cardboard cartons. Natasha had seen a box like that before, but not in real life. It had been on the news or in training videos before she went to work at the Rehabilitation Center. A hulking male figure stood inside the box, connected to hoses and wires. He was tall and bulky, like a character out of a superhero comic. Even though his eyes were closed, he flexed his muscles like he was ready for a fight. The door of each cyborg cage had a small nameplate with an alphanumeric designation. This nameplate had been scratched out. The word “Fury” was written above it in a stranger’s handwriting.

  “Are you making your own cyborgs?” she whispered. She couldn’t believe her father would participate in illegal activities.

  “Not exactly. Fury was already a cyborg before he came here, but they were going to terminate him. I’d been working on him for a long time, and I didn’t want to see my work wasted. I brought him home.” Neil had been behind her, but he repositioned himself to stand between Natasha and the cyborg. “I’m sure I can adjust his programming.”

  Natasha’s organs seemed to be vibrating inside of her. “Why were they going to terminate him?”

  “He doesn’t always follow orders. On his last assignment, he wasn’t supposed to kill anyone, but he ended up leaving a trail of bodies. He seems to lose track of his priorities when he’s in an unfamiliar situation. But I’m sure these are things I can fix. It didn’t seem right to incinerate him when he has a chance at a normal life like the other cyborgs.” Neil gazed proudly at his creation.

  “You just stole him? Dad, Cyborg Sector will put you in jail if they find out.”

  Neil waved his hands at her in a placating gesture. “I know. But I’ll have him repaired before he can ever become a problem. When I’m not working on him, I keep him sedated in the holding cell.”

  Natasha shook her head. It had been a long day, and she wasn’t in the mood to argue with him, especially since she knew he wouldn’t listen to her. Her father believed he could help this cyborg, and she had no choice but to believe in him, too. “I’m going to bed.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Staying with her father was a pleasant retreat from real life. Natasha’s morning routine was the same. She still got up and went to work every day, but when she came home it was a different experience. For the first time in a long time, it felt like she could finally relax. Neil had a massive supply of frozen food in his kitchen, which she only needed to heat up to magically prepare dinner. It seemed like she was cheating life, but pre-prepared meals were much easier than trying to decide what to make. When they sat at the table and discussed their days, he only asked her about Nick occasionally.

  One Wednesday morning, her father didn’t come down for breakfast. Natasha gave him time while she styled her hair and applied makeup. Sometimes he didn’t sleep well, and it wasn’t like he had to keep a strict schedule. When she was ready for work and had warmed up a cinnamon roll for each of them, she decided to go back up the stairs and knock softly on his door.

  “Dad? I’m going to have to leave for work soon. Are you getting up today?” There was no reply. “Dad?”

  With a feeling of dread in her heart, Natasha pushed open the door and peeked inside. Neil was in bed, sleeping peacefully. She crossed the room to leave a kiss on his cheek when she saw that his skin was an unusual color. His cheek felt cold against the back of her hand when she reached out to check his temperature.

  “Dad!” Natasha fumbled with his wrist as she searched for a pulse, but his hand was limp and unresponsive. His chest in his old striped pajama top was still.

  Her throat tightened around her trachea, nearly cutting off her breath. Natasha couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She trudged out of the room and down the stairs, stumbling her way through the hall to find a phone and call 911.

  * * *

  Everyone said the funeral was peaceful. Natasha didn’t know how to compare one funeral to another. She couldn’t stop thinking about the heavy wooden casket and the dark satin lining it. In her memory, she recalled large displays of flowers and wreaths sent by former coworkers. Repetitive music played in the background as the preacher spoke. An uncountable number of people had lined up to shake her hand or give her a hug.

  None of it had meant anything to her because her father wasn’t coming back.

  Many people had told Natasha how good her father looked in his coffin. She had nodded and given small smiles because it seemed like the thing to do, but their comments made her want to scream. How good could he look when he was dead? He had died in his sleep, and he would never again smile or put his arm around her. Her father had been the only person in the world on her side. Now she had no one.

  Natasha had stayed at the cemetery until the very last bit of dirt was pushed over her father’s grave. The gravediggers laid a large blue blanket over the burial site to keep the soil in place until it settled. She was the last person to leave the site, choosing to drive herself home instead of renting a limousine as the funeral director had suggested.

  When she arrived at her father’s house, the sound of the key in the lock made a loud, grating noise in her ears. The soft squeak of the door and the sound of her heels on the living room floor were like echoes in a canyon. The house was empty now without its owner.

  Without removing the painful shoes or bothering to change out of the expensive black dress she had purchased just for the occasion, Natasha wandered through the house as though seeing it for the first time. She studied every framed picture on the wall. The grade school photos, snapshots of her parents when they were dating, and pictures from their wedding made her feel like she was walking through a time warp.

  Natasha ran her hands over the afghan on the back of the couch that her mother crocheted and opened the china cabinet to reveal a set of elegant teacups. She noticed for the first time in her life that her father had dedicated the main living area of the house to her mother’s tastes. Neil had been content to let his wife have whatever she wanted for the house, as long as his books were on a shelf in the library. He had a laboratory in the basement and hadn’t changed a single thing since his wife had passed away.

  A knock on the door startled Natasha out of her reverie. She had already seen everyone she knew today and had been sent home with several casseroles and cakes, so she wasn’t expecting any company. She stalked across the room, angry at being disturbed while she grieved.

  The man on the stoop was tall and wiry, with blonde hair and a lazy grin. His blue eyes glittered with sympathy as he looked down at her and braced his body against the door frame with a tattooed arm.

  “What are you doing here, Nick?” Natasha wondered how much more of her energy could be drained from her body before she simply keeled over and died.

  “I heard about what happened to your Dad. I didn’t know about the funeral until it was too late to come, but I wanted to check on you. Why didn’t you tell me?” He started to take a step inside, but Natasha didn’t move back to make room for him.

  Many reasons, Natasha thought. Because I didn’t want to deal with you, and I still don’t. Because I had more important things on my mind than some asshole who cheated on me with his employee. You would use my vulnerability as leverage against me.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “But I’m your husband, Tasha. You should have let me help you. I could have planned everything and supported you. It’s a shame that you had to do everything alone.” Nick managed to take a full step and was now towering over her. He would knock her down with another movement.

  Natasha didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. “That’s all right. I have everything taken care of.” She folded her arms across the bodice of her dress, unwilling to back down and hoping to convey her feelings with her body language. She met Nick’s stare with venom in her eyes, but he didn’t seem intimidated by her in the least.

  “Well, I’m here to take care of you now.” He put his hands on Nat
asha’s upper arms, rubbing them up and down in a gesture he thought was comforting. “Let’s start by getting you out of those uncomfortable clothes.”

  “Nick, I’m not in the mood for this.”

  “That’s okay, baby. I can get you in the mood. You know how good we are together.” His body was pressed against her now, and he pinned her in place with his arms. “All you have to do is tell me where you want to do it. Your old bedroom? Right here in the living room?” He kicked the front door shut behind him.

  “Let go of me!” Natasha shoved him away, but he moved back immediately and bent down to kiss her. She could smell the liquor on his breath. The thought of kissing someone who had been so awful to her made her want to retch. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Natasha pushed him harder than before, making him crash into the door.

  “Damn. You’re still a bitch, you know that?” Nick rubbed the back of his head. “I was just trying to help you out.”

  “Help yourself out, Nick. Help yourself right out the front door. I don’t want to see you again. You won’t hear from me again unless it’s through my attorney.” Natasha yanked the door open, put her hand on Nick’s chest, and pushed him outside. He tried to return, but she slammed the door in his face.

  Shaking and angry, Natasha was even more lost than she had been before Nick appeared. She didn’t need to see him right then. Many things were more important than fighting off a soon-to-be ex-husband. She should be sitting down with a friend and a good beer.

  Instead, after locking the front door, checking it twice, and watching through the window as Nick drove off with screeching tires, Natasha strode purposefully toward the back of the house. There was something else that she needed to settle, something that no one could help her with.

  She hadn’t been to the basement since the first night her father showed her Fury. Although she had been uncomfortable with the idea of keeping a cyborg in her basement, she had decided to let him do what he wanted. Neil had felt strong enough about the project to take it on, and she trusted him to keep it under control.

  Natasha walked across the room to study the cyborg. He stood quietly in his box, only the gentle rise and fall of his broad chest indicating that he was anything more than a wax statue. The wires and tubes were small and unobtrusive, coming in from the back of the container.

  This cyborg — Fury — was truly a marvel. His cheekbones were high and defined, lips firmly set and jaw firm. The nurse could see that someone had already modified his hand. The soldiers she dealt with at the CRC needed to have this particular feature disabled before they were released from Cyborg Sector, but this soldier’s weapon was live. She wondered if he had any other replacement parts. She had met men with artificial limbs, eyes, and internal organs, but they were all of such high quality that most people couldn’t tell the difference at first glance.

  Natasha knew he couldn’t hear her, but she spoke anyway. “I don’t know what to do with you now that Dad’s gone. I can’t keep you here for the rest of our lives.”

  Fury’s eyelids flew open, revealing deep blue irises that stared at her with undisguised hatred. Natasha screamed and scrambled backward, falling over a chair and landing hard on the concrete. Quickly regaining her feet despite the pain in her elbows and ass, Natasha barreled up the stairs and slammed the door.

  CHAPTER 6

  Natasha closed the deadbolt on the basement door and slowly backed away, wondering if she should do anything. Her body sagged against the kitchen doorway as she listened for any unusual sounds. Natasha was sure she would soon hear the crash of the cyborg as he broke out of the holding cell and then the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

  Soldiers had broken out of Cyborg Sector before, where everything was more secure and better maintained than a residence. Why had her father thought it would be safe to keep one in the basement?

  She waited a long time, but the house remained silent. Natasha only heard the faint ticking of the mantel clock in the living room and the gentle hum of the air conditioner. She inhaled through her nose and breathed out through her mouth, doing the same exercises her father had performed countless times to stop the panic attacks. She had never experienced her father’s anxiety problem before, but she had seen Neil do it so many times that the steps were second nature.

  Finally convinced that Fury wasn’t going to chase her up the stairs and through the house, Natasha lowered herself into a kitchen chair to think. She dealt with cyborgs on a daily basis. They came into her office, took off their shirts for exams, and sometimes even shook her hand on the way out. The creatures who had once been human were still capable of exhibiting human traits. But that was only due to the software upgrade that allowed them to bypass their implanted chip and access their previous memories. Fury had probably not had the software update, but there was only one way to be sure.

  When Natasha rose from the table, her cell phone beeped in her pocket. She checked the screen and rolled her eyes when she saw that it was a message from Nick.

  So you like playing hard to get? That’s all right. I still want you.

  Natasha let out a frustrated sigh.

  Not interested. Thought you would have figured that out when I threw you out of my house.

  Her head pounded with rage and her hands shook. Natasha didn’t want to deal with that douchebag anymore. Her phone chimed again only a few seconds later.

  We can start slow. I’ll send you a picture of my dick. You know you’ve missed it.

  Natasha knew she should ignore the message or even block his number, but she couldn’t stop herself from replying.

  Can your camera take pictures of something so small? Keep it to yourself for once.

  She peeled off her high heels and padded down the hallway to her bedroom. She had things to do, but she needed to get comfortable first. Another beep.

  You never minded it before. BTW you were very sexy in that little black dress.

  Natasha was getting angry.

  I was at my father’s funeral, you asshole!

  Dropping the phone onto the dresser, she yanked her dress over her head and tossed it to the bottom of her closet. Once she had it dry cleaned, it was going straight to the consignment shop. No matter how good it looked on her, she had no plans to wear it ever again.

  Natasha caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror as she reached for a t-shirt and jeans. Despite how disgusting Nick sounded when he talked about her body, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Her figure was a little plump, but it benefitted from the extra bits of exercise she slipped in whenever she could. Her breasts were full but still perky, big enough that she couldn’t go without a bra but she didn’t need a pushup. Her waist tucked in nicely around her stomach before rounding out for her hips. Her ass looked great in a swimsuit, if she did say so herself. Maybe it didn’t matter that Nick had slept with a skinny slut from the bar. There would be someone else to appreciate what she offered.

  Her phone demanded her attention once again.

  No problem. He never liked me. Keep the dress on and leave your panties off. I can be there in five minutes.

  Feeling disgusted, Natasha quickly put some clothes on before she responded. Even though he had no way of knowing what she was wearing, she was not about to text him back while she was naked.

  Do it and I’ll call the police. Stay away from me.

  Natasha turned her phone off before he had a chance to respond again. She would probably have an inbox full of texts when she checked her phone, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

  Tugging on a pair of Converse sneakers, Natasha took a deep breath and headed back through the house, moving toward the basement door. There had been no indication that the cyborg had escaped his cell. Even if he was awake, he couldn’t hurt her from his box. Still, her stomach trembled as she released the lock and opened the door once again.

  In her hurry, Natasha had left the lights on in the basement. From the top of the stairs, everything looked in order. Leaving the door open behind her in case
she needed to make a quick escape, Natasha quietly descended the stairs. She kept her eyes on the makeshift laboratory, ready to turn and run should anything go awry.

  Fury was still in the box. His eyes were open, staring off into the distance. Though it unnerved her, Natasha preferred a vacant gaze if it meant the cyborg was not watching her. She would not have entered the room otherwise.

  Natasha needed to move uncomfortably close to the cyborg in order to get what she wanted. The nurse sidled over, never turning her back on the cyborg. Keeping her eyes on the box, Natasha groped behind her on the workbench. Her fingers encountered a pile of tiny screws and a soldering iron that fortunately had been turned off. Finally, she felt the plastic casing of her father’s laptop. She snatched it and bolted back up the stairs.

  CHAPTER 7

  Natasha knew that the key to discovering the truth about the cyborg was in her father’s records. With any luck, his laptop had everything she needed. Natasha hadn’t seen any old-school paper notebooks lying around, and she knew that Cyborg Sector wanted digital records of everything. If the computer held no relevant information, she would have to find where her father kept his files.

  She turned on the computer, simultaneously relieved and angry to discover it wasn’t password protected. If her father had taken the laptop anywhere with him and lost it, people could have learned his secret and reported him immediately. On the other hand, it meant that she had no problem gaining access to his documents.

  It didn’t take long to find what she needed. A folder entitled Fury opened up to reveal numerous subfolders of test results, experiment procedures, diagrams, and electrical charts. The one that intrigued Natasha the most was labeled Log. Inside were files organized according to their date of entry, and her father appeared to have created them on a daily basis. Natasha randomly clicked on one.