by Anna Hackett
Acton tightened his grip on her, his palm pressed against her belly. It was intriguingly soft, with a hint of tone beneath it. She was so pretty, and he couldn’t stop looking at the way the sunlight glinted off her hair. It lit up the strands in different shades of orange and gold.
He stared at her and felt a muscle work in his jaw. She was breaking down barriers inside him. He knew he wasn’t equipped to deal with how his body responded to her.
But he had an enhanced intellect and he was a fast learner. He would deal with it. He flexed his fingers on her and heard her suck in a breath.
He turned her reaction over in his head. “You like that?”
Not looking at him, she nodded.
He stroked his hand up her belly again, caressing her hipbone. She shifted restlessly on the tarnid.
“Acton—”
“Yes?”
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
He looked ahead. They were at the rear of the group, the other cyborgs ahead of them. But he was well aware that they all had enhanced senses.
“We can’t, not here. Besides, I’m afraid my control won’t be good enough.”
“Later?” She looked up at him. “When we’re alone?”
He nodded.
They continued to ride, and Sage appeared to enjoy watching the changing desert terrain. He grabbed the water bladder hanging off the side of the tarnid and made her drink. He had also pocketed some panella before they’d left. When he handed her the sweets, she beamed at him.
“They’ll help keep your energy up,” he said.
Her smile widened and Acton felt like he’d won a fight.
“Tell me about Tiarla,” she said. “I’m guessing there are no deserts there?”
His homeworld was such a distant memory that it took a moment to try and remember. “No. It was verdant farmland, and gentle, rolling hills.”
“And you were taken from your family?”
His muscles stiffened. “Yes. The Metathim Military came every few years. They were based on a neighboring planet. They took some of the strongest teenagers to join their military. A few who were most suitable, were sent to the cyborg program.”
Sage gasped. “What about your parents?”
“They couldn’t fight them. The Metathim would have razed the farms and villages to the ground.”
“They didn’t even try to fight for you?” she asked.
“I think most people who had strong sons and daughters figured it was inevitable.” He paused. “The Metathim try to minimize the memories of all the people they take. They didn’t have the tech to erase memories completely, but they could dull them. My memories are so faded that I don’t even remember my parents’ faces.”
Sage shifted, looking upset. Was she sad for him?
“It was a long time ago, Sage.”
“But being taken from your family, your choices stolen, that leaves scars.”
He realized that her situation wasn’t much different to the one he’d lived through.
“Scars help us grow and learn,” he said.
Suddenly, she jerked, and he detected movement to the side of their tarnid. A mull. The small, desert animal bounded off into the sand, burrowing deep to escape them.
“Oh, that looked so cute,” she said.
“It’s called a mull.”
“It’s so fluffy.”
“It is a very good hunter. It doesn’t generally attack people, but it can be savage.”
Sage grimaced. “Of course, it can. Everything out here seems dangerous.”
They continued on, and Acton spotted something ahead in the distance. “There’s the caravan.”
Sage peered ahead and huffed out a breath. “Your eyesight is much better than mine.”
Moments later, she saw the wagons and smiled. “Oh, wow.”
The caravan was made up of a variety of transports, and several tethered tarnids milled around.
Acton took in the vehicles, tents, and animals. Sage probably didn’t notice, but he saw how the transports formed a safe perimeter, with the tents in the center. Corsair protected his people and his caravan.
As soon as the cyborgs pulled up, young children in desert clothes raced over to take the leads of their tarnids.
A young girl with a huge, shaggy canine sitting by her feet waved at them. Sage waved back. The canine stared at them balefully.
“Magnus,” a deep voice drawled.
The newcomer strode forward, a slight swagger in his walk, and a streamlined bird of prey perched on his shoulder. He had a muscled body clothed in typical desert gear, with a dark leather belt, and a well-worn leather bandolier across his chest. His brown hair was shaggy and streaked with gold, no doubt due to life under the desert suns. His eyes were golden brown.
“Well, he sure packs a punch,” Sage murmured.
Acton paused. Did she find Corsair attractive? Corsair looked and acted nothing like Acton. He was a man who smiled easily, and clearly felt a gamut of emotion. As Corsair spoke with Magnus, his hunting bird lifted off into the sky.
Frowning, Acton slid off the tarnid and lifted Sage down.
A large man and slender woman approached behind Corsair. The man was Bren Hahn, an accomplished hunter. The woman with the dark hair was his mate, Mersi Kassar. They were Corsair’s right hands and his best friends. They helped with the day-to-day running of the caravan.
Then, the sharp crack of canvas being slapped open. Another woman strode out of a tent. She walked with economic movements, in a way that said she knew how to carry herself. Her dark hair was pulled back in a braid. She was a taller, sharper version of Ever Haynes.
The woman pinned Magnus with a hard stare. “How are my sister and niece?”
“Excellent, Neve,” the imperator replied.
Neve sniffed. “Make sure they stay that way, cyborg.”
Corsair slid an arm around Neve’s shoulders and grinned. “Be nice to your brother-in-law.”
Neve’s nose wrinkled. Then her green gaze landed on Sage. “You must be Sage.”
Sage nodded. “Sage McAlister. Nice to meet you.”
“Neve Haynes, Ever’s sister.”
The women shook hands and Acton stepped forward, staying close.
Neve’s eyes flicked up to him. “You have a cyborg bodyguard?”
Sage’s lips curled. “I guess I do.”
“Come.” Corsair waved an arm.
The caravan master led them deeper into the caravan. They passed crowds of people—some clearly members of the caravan, and others passengers. Corsair stopped at an area that had a bright-red shade cloth strung above it, flapping in the breeze. Beneath it, there was an area with well-used rugs.
“Would anyone like something to drink?” Mersi asked.
“Sage would, Mersi,” Acton answered.
Sage rolled her eyes. “How about you ask me first?”
“But you need to stay hydrated.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Thank you, I’d love a drink.”
Mersi’s lips twitched, her purple eyes glowing. “And you, cyborg?”
“I do not require any sustenance right now.”
“He always talk like that?” Mersi asked.
Sage smiled. “Yes. You get used to it.”
Soon, they were all seated around on the rugs. Magnus leaned forward, one knee raised and his arm resting on it. “Who is this desert dweller you said has information for us?”
“An old man,” Corsair said. “He’s older than anyone I know. He’s forgotten more about the desert than I’ve ever learned.”
“Where is he?” Acton asked.
“Mia Gedi. A tiny oasis not far from here.”
“Then let’s go,” Sage urged. “Simone and her daughter are out there, somewhere, and we have to find them.”
“Things move slower in the desert, Sage,” the caravan master said. “We’ll leave shortly, once your tarnids are rested and watered. We will do everything to find your friends.” He ran a hand
down Neve’s dark braid. “I promise you.”
Acton sensed Sage’s upset. He reached out and brushed his fingers against hers on the rug. Sage jerked, then looked down at his fingers. Her gaze moved to his face.
Then her fingers closed on his.
Acton hadn’t felt anything before that felt so right.
Sage enjoyed riding on the tarnid.
After their short stop at the Corsair Caravan, they were now headed deeper into the desert. Not that she was looking at the stark scenery. She wasn’t even focused on the feeling of the powerful animal beneath her.
Instead, all she could think about was being surrounded by Acton.
Last night, she’d barely slept, consumed by hurt and embarrassment.
Now…
She blew out a breath. A part of her was terrified. That this thing between her and Acton wouldn’t work. That he’d change his mind about exploring emotions. That he’d decide she wasn’t worth the risk. That he’d break her heart.
Closing her eyes, she forced some air into her lungs. Despite her fear, she couldn’t seem to stay away from him.
She now knew that he’d been torn from his family. He’d had cyborg enhancements forced on him. The Metathim Military had stolen his memories, his emotions, and buried them deep.
And Sage was going to drag him, and what he felt, back into the light.
She’d teach him to live again.
“I can see trees,” Acton murmured.
She strained to see. She couldn’t see any trees, but she just didn’t have Acton’s super-duper eyesight. Then, light glinted off what had to be a pool of water.
Corsair pulled ahead of the group. He wasn’t riding a tarnid, but a different desert animal with two long legs that reminded her of an ostrich. It had a long neck and beige scales, and was called a morloch.
It wasn’t much longer before the oasis came into view. It was tiny and almost picturesque, with the pool of dark water ringed by trees. The trees had long trunks and deep-purple foliage that spread out overhead like a lattice.
Right beside the water was a small, domed hut made from beige stone.
As their group pulled in and slid off the tarnids, a dog-like creature bounded out from behind the hut. It barked at them with deep, resonant woofs.
“Nice, big canine,” Jax muttered.
A man came shuffling out of the hut.
Sage blinked, then stared at him, taking in his wrinkled, tanned skin. His silver hair was so long it brushed the sand at his feet.
Suddenly, she sensed all the cyborgs stiffening around her. They were all staring at the pool of water.
Something stirred within its depths. Water rippled, implying a big something, and a shiver went down Sage’s spine.
Whatever lived in the water was enormous.
Acton’s arms tightened on her.
“Garrolf, enough.” The man’s wavering voice was still filled with a core of strength, like the endless desert. The canine went quiet.
“Derma, my other pet—” the man jerked his head toward the pond “—she won’t hurt you.”
The ripples in the water subsided, but the tension in the cyborgs didn’t.
“Tolpan.” Corsair strode forward to greet the man.
The old man gripped Corsair’s hand vigorously. “Corsair, how is that fierce woman of yours?”
“Still fierce. Just yesterday, I woke up with a knife pinned through my sleeve.”
Tolpan let out a rasping laugh. “I’m sure you deserved it.” Then his cloudy gaze turned and zeroed in on the House of Rone cyborgs. “Cyborgs.”
Magnus inclined his head. “From the House of Rone.”
“I hear your house does good things, Rone. And you make good weapons.”
Magnus drew a small dagger off his belt and handed it over. “A gift.”
Tolpan’s eyes widened. “Made by Maxon?”
“Of course.”
Wrinkled fingers stroked the blade. “That man is a genius.”
“Please don’t tell him that,” Jax said. “He’s a grumpy, temperamental, and egotistical one.”
Tolpan made a harrumphing sound that could have been a laugh. Sage didn’t see him move, but suddenly the knife was gone, hidden in the folds of the old man’s desert robes. Then his milky gaze settled on Sage.
“You’re not a cyborg.”
“No, just a woman.”
“Hmm. From the same world as Corsair’s feisty Neve.”
Sage nodded. “Earth.”
“The Thraxians took you too?”
Her belly tightened, and she sensed Acton shift closer, the warmth of him at her back. But she lifted her chin, facing the ugly memories head-on.
“Yes. They sold me to the Edull.”
Tolpan made an angry noise and spat on the sand. “Arrogant, know-it-all scavengers.”
“They’re keeping other humans captive at Bari Batu,” Sage said quietly. “Including a child. We have to find them and free them.”
Tolpan stared at her for a beat, then swiveled with a rustle of robes. “Come.” He disappeared into his hut.
Corsair stooped through the small opening and inside the hut.
“Mace and Toren, I want you on patrol,” Magnus said.
The cyborgs nodded. Then the imperator went inside, followed by Jax. Sage ducked through the doorway, with Acton right behind her. Inside, it felt as though the temperature dropped several degrees.
She scanned the dim interior. A skylight in the ceiling let light into the hut. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable, with cool, stone walls, and worn rugs and cushions on the floor.
The canine came in and went straight to a huge cushion. It circled around, getting comfy, then settled down with a doggy groan. But it was watching them.
Tolpan sat on a cushion, moving agilely for a man his age. Not that Sage knew his exact age, but he had to be very old.
“My father told stories of when the Edull first appeared on Carthago. They stripped metal like hungry nakar flies, and were always full of grandiose plans. And happy to run over anyone who got in their way. Like insects, they multiplied.”
Sage settled on a cushion and Acton sat beside her. She tilted sideways into his body.
“That sounds like the Edull,” she said through a tight throat.
She felt fingers brush the back of her hair. Acton was touching her again, trying to offer comfort.
Tolpan watched her, an inscrutable look on his face. “The Edull started with an outpost, but as they grew, they built their scrap city.”
“Have you visited it?” Magnus asked.
“No. Just heard stories.”
“They kept me at an outpost,” Sage said. “Locked in a lab.”
The man muttered a word her implant couldn’t translate, but she was pretty sure it was a curse.
Then he rose in a surprisingly smooth move. He puttered around, lifting a battered kettle from some sort of hotplate.
“You don’t know where Bari Batu is, do you?” Sage asked.
“If I did know once, I’ve since forgotten.” Regret crossed Tolpan’s lined face. “I’m very old.” He poured two steaming drinks, dunking in some strange leaves.
He handed one cup to Sage, and took the other for himself. Then he sat and sipped the tea.
Sage cupped her drink and tried it. She barely registered the strong taste, instead, focusing on fighting back the frustration searing along her veins.
She wanted to know where Bari Batu was. She wanted to find Simone and Grace.
“You’d risk your life for these other humans?” Tolpan peered at her over the rim of his cup.
“Yes.” Sage leaned forward. “I can’t enjoy my new life, knowing that I’m safe, when Simone and Grace are captives.” Sage’s voice hitched. “I know what the Edull can do.”
“Hmm. And the cyborgs, they risk themselves as well?”
“Yes, the House of Rone has done so much to rescue me, and some other women, as well. Quinn, Jayna, Calla.”
Tolpan eyed Magnus and Acton. “But they’re machines.”
Sage set her cup down with a hard thump. “They are men. Flesh with metal, but they have hearts. They are honorable to the core. The Edull aren’t cyborgs, but they are unfeeling assholes. Flesh alone doesn’t make you better than anyone.”
The old desert man smiled, and suddenly Sage felt as though she’d passed some sort of test.
“You are fierce, like Corsair’s Neve.”
“I’m just me,” Sage said. “I’m not a fighter, but I will do what I can to find my crew members.”
“My aunt, who long turned back to sand, visited the Great Lake of the Edull.”
Sage sucked in a breath and felt Acton tense.
“My memories are old and faded, but I believe it was near the Stone Sea of Suffering.”
Sage grimaced. Sea of Suffering?
“I haven’t heard of that,” Magnus said, frowning.
“I don’t have fancy coordinates,” Tolpan said “But I can tell you that it’s past the Red Dunes of Tauri. And it’s well hidden.”
“Hidden?” Magnus asked. “How?”
“I don’t remember. I’m old.”
Looking at Tolpan, Sage saw tiredness wash over him. He seemed to shrink in on himself, the lines on his face deepening and the light in his eyes fading.
“Past the Red Dunes, and then look for the daggers.”
The daggers? Sage wondered what the hell that could be.
“I’m tired,” Tolpan said. “Please, go now. I need to rest.”
With a nod, Magnus rose and headed for the door.
Sage stood, then hesitated. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, Tolpan reached out and grabbed her wrist. His gnarled grip was surprisingly strong.
Acton surged closer, his big body tensing in battle readiness.
“Be careful, Sage from Earth,” Tolpan murmured. “The desert tests us all to our limits.” His gaze flicked to Acton. “Don’t falter when it matters most. He needs your heart.”
Sage stared in awe at the otherworldly look in the old man’s eyes. Acton slid an arm around her.
“Delve deep, cyborg,” Tolpan said. “She needs you to be her shield, her protector.”
Then the old man sank back on the cushions, waving them off.
