Her Cyborg Champion

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Her Cyborg Champion Page 8

by Susan Hayes


  “Did you know I had never seen stars until I left Earth? I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of looking at them.”

  “We’ve lived very different lives.”

  Something lay in his tone, a hardness that hadn’t been there before, but when she looked at him, he didn’t seem angry. He was using the tablet again, so maybe it was distortion from the speaker.

  “We have. But that just means we’ve got different stories to tell.” One day, she wanted to tell him more about her life on Earth. The real stories. The fear and the lies, the scams they’d run and the scrip they’d stolen from anyone they thought could afford it. She wasn’t proud of some of her choices, but it was her life and her story, and she wanted him to hear about it someday.

  The lesson turned out to be a lot less fun than she’d expected. Instead of a kes’tarv, he’d given her a stick. It wasn’t as large as hers, and neither end was sharpened. First, he’d show her a move, demonstrating the proper grip and where her feet should be. Then he made her practice it over and over again.

  “When do I get to hit something?”

  She’d expected him to offer to spar with her. Instead, he led her to the edge of the clearing and pointed to a tree.

  “You want me to hit that?”

  He nodded.

  She whacked it as hard as she could. Her grip was wrong, and the blow stung her hands and made her arms ache. “Ow.”

  He demonstrated the right grip again and then pointed to the tree.

  This time, the strike sounded different and her hands didn’t sting. “Oh! I get it now.”

  That earned her a smile. Striker stepped back, giving her room to go through the entire drill again. By the time she was done, her shoulders ached and her arms felt like they might fall off at any second. But the tree had fresh scars on the bark and the aches she felt were the good kind that meant she’d accomplished something.

  “How’d I do?”

  “For your first day? Better than I expected. You’ve fought before.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Where I’m from, if you wanted to keep what you had, you learned to fight. But street scraps and the occasional bar brawl were part of my old life. I need to prepare for my new one.”

  “You’re already on that path. Come inside. I have something for you.”

  She fell in behind him and tried not to ogle the fine view she had as they walked around to the front of the cabin. All the cyborgs she’d met were physically perfect, but to her mind, Striker was the best of the bunch.

  She wasn’t sure if that feeling was mutual, though. Oh, something was definitely going on between them. He didn’t like the idea of some other male getting handsy with her. If he wasn’t interested in her, he wouldn’t care. At least, that was the theory she was going on. If her interest turned out to be one-sided, she was going to need to spend her first paycheck on those ice cream and cookie concoctions Saral and her mates had invented.

  The table was set for two, and a plate stacked high with thick-cut sandwiches was set in the middle. “If you’re cold, I’ll make coffee,” he offered.

  “All that exercise kept me warm enough, thanks. I could use a drink, though. Water?” she took off her jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. Striker hung his next to it.

  “No ja’kreesh?” even through the tablet, there was no missing the note of humor in his voice.

  “Not this time. That stuff packs a serious punch. If I need it, I’ll make myself a small cup at the start of tonight’s shift.”

  “You’re working tonight?”

  “I am. There’s some kind of musical thing going on. One of the colonists puts on a performance night every few weeks. Anya says when they sing the place is always packed.”

  “I’ve heard him sing. He’s talented.”

  She tried not to look surprised. “You’ve been to the Bar None?”

  “No. I was at his bonding ceremony, though. He sang Shadow down the aisle. It was nice.”

  “Wait. The singer is Kade? Shadow’s Kade?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Everyone here already knows so much about each other I think they sometimes forget that the new arrivals don’t have the same information. I’ve met Kade and Denz, but I didn’t make the connection.”

  “You only feel that way because you haven’t met many beings yet. Thousands of colonists live here. Not everyone knows each other.”

  “The cyborgs do. But I guess that makes sense if you’re all from the same place.”

  “Not all. Shadow was part of a different project.”

  “She hasn’t told us about that yet. She said she would eventually, but we needed to learn other things that were more important than her story.”

  He snorted. “That’s because most of her story is classified.”

  “Now I really want to hear it. And yours too. Someday. If you want to tell me.”

  He pointed to the table. “Sit. Eat.”

  “So, no story?” she asked.

  He started making tea and for a few minutes she sat in silence, eating and waiting to see if he answered her.

  Eventually, he did. “There isn’t much to tell. I was created during the Resource Wars. I fought for two years and watched a lot of good cyborgs die. Afterward, I was part of the rebellion that led to our freedom… only the corporation I worked for didn’t free all of us. They incapacitated us with a code word and then shipped us to Reamus Station. When we woke up, our behavioral programming had been augmented, and we were in cages. They tested us. Did experiments. And they made us fight each other and then broadcast the fights for money. I don’t know if that was part of the original plan or something our captors came up with later. They’d use the fights to test their modifications. Pitting us against each other.”

  The moment he started talking about the cages, she’d put down her sandwich. Now her stomach was tied in knots and she had a bitter taste in the back of her mouth that no amount of water could wash away. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You wanted to hear my story. That’s it.” He shrugged and turned away from her.

  “How many of your own did you have to kill?” she asked softly.

  He kept his back turned. “All of them. You’re looking at the champion of Reamus Station. I killed them all, Maggie. Including my batch-siblings. That’s why Skye warned you about me. I am dangerous.”

  She rose and walked over to him. She could see the tension in his shoulders and neck, like he was carrying the weight of an entire planet. When she got closer, she noted that his hands were fisted in front of him, knuckles white. He was hurting, and she did the only thing she could think of to help. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against his back.

  “I don’t believe that.” She’d never believe it. Dangerous men didn’t protect strangers without revealing their presence. They didn’t share their homes or make tea for guests. As far as she could see, the only person Striker was a danger to was himself.

  “You don’t know me.” He talked to her directly, his voice low and rough.

  “I think I do. What happened to you was not your fault. They put you in a horrible place and made you make impossible choices.”

  A shudder passed through him. “I killed them.”

  “What would have happened if you hadn’t?”

  “They would have killed me, and then there would have been no one left to stop their pain.”

  He tugged her arms away from him and she thought he was pushing her away. He didn’t. He turned and wrapped her in his arms instead. There was nothing sexual about his touch. It was simpler than that. He held her tightly and buried his head in her hair, breathing harder now.

  “And then what?”

  “Then what was left of my friends and family would have had to keep living. They were suffering. In pain. Some of them weren’t sane anymore. We all promised each other if that happened…”

  “So you kept your promise and helped them escape their suffering.” She pressed her head to hi
s chest, the fabric of his shirt soft against her cheek and the steady thump of his heart in her ear.

  “I killed them.”

  “You kept your promise,” she repeated.

  “You can’t understand.”

  She lifted her head and leaned back so she could see his face. “You’re wrong. I do. I left my best friend behind because that’s what we agreed to do. She’s out there somewhere, alone. Maybe hurt. Maybe dead. And I left her. I have to live with that choice, and you have to live with what you’ve done, but we can’t forget that our friends would have done the same thing because that was the deal. And it sucks vacuum.”

  He was still for a long time and then something seemed to unknot inside him and he let out a slow, drawn breath. “I can’t bring back the dead, but maybe… is there a way I can help you find your friend?”

  This was it. Her chance to tell him the truth about everything. If she did, though, would he still want to help her? If he knew who she’d been before Haven, would he want to be around her? She didn’t want to take that chance. Not yet. “I don’t know.”

  That wasn’t a lie. She wasn’t sure if he could help. He might be able to access the data locked away inside her arm, but maybe not. And if he did, she had no idea what it was or if it would help them find Jade.

  “Alright,” his jaw tightened again, and she felt the moment slipping away.

  “Thank you for offering. It means a lot to me.” She reached up to slip a hand around the back of his neck, drawing his head down as she rose on her toes.

  He bowed his head, eyes locked on hers, and she kissed him. It was only going to be a light touch of the lips, but the moment they connected, he uttered a low sound of need that hit her like a comet strike.

  The kiss deepened, his hands smoothing up her back to tangle in her hair. He took over, claiming control of the situation with the same confidence he approached everything else.

  She allowed it. In fact, she embraced it. Just this once, she didn’t want to be the one in control. She wanted to enjoy this moment without worrying about what happened next.

  Hard, hungry kisses fueled by need and loneliness were followed by slow, gentle kisses that let her learn the shape of his mouth. He smelled like the forest with a deeper musk that was uniquely his, and his lips tasted of the cookies he’d eaten while he’d watched her train.

  She already knew he was strong, but now she took the time to explore his body with her fingers, following the hard lines of muscle and sinew she could feel but not see beneath his shirt.

  When her fingers brushed the scar at his throat, he groaned and pulled away. She didn’t let him. She took hold of his shirt and held him in place, straining on her toes to reach his mouth again.

  “Maggie…” he whispered her name.

  “I’m here.”

  “Why?” There were so many layers of meaning to that question she couldn’t count them all.

  “Because this is where I’m supposed to be.” The words were simple but true.

  After that, they stopped talking. There wasn’t any need. They communicated by touch, every kiss and caress adding to their silent conversation.

  His kisses grew hungry again, demanding more. One hand cupped her breast through her shirt and she wondered what it would feel like when no clothes stood between them.

  Her tablet started chiming in insistent tones, dragging her back to reality.

  “What is it? An alert? A problem?”

  She sighed. “A reminder. I need to get back soon or I won’t have time to shower and change before my shift.”

  “I need to give you something before you leave.” Striker’s voice came through the tablet speaker this time, and she knew their moment was over. When he let her go, she took a few reluctant steps back, giving him room to move.

  “More? I thought lunch was the surprise?”

  “Lunch was a necessity. As I understand it, unenhanced humans need to eat regularly, especially if they’re exerting themselves.”

  “Well, that’s true. But I brought a couple of food tabs to eat on my way back. I didn’t expect you to feed me.” She’d have to figure out some other things to bring him. Being indebted to someone wasn’t smart and usually ended badly. Even she and Jade had tried to split things fifty-fifty.

  “Afraid I’m going to ask you to pay up one day? I won’t.”

  She blushed. Striker knew what she was doing and why. “Sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that some habits are hard to break.”

  “I get it. But to borrow a page from Skye’s book of favorite phrases, this is Haven. Things are different here.” He modulated his voice to sound a little like Skye’s.

  Maggie burst out laughing. “Does she know you can do that?”

  “Fraxx, no.”

  “Can you imitate anyone else?”

  His next words came out sounding a lot like her voice. “If I have enough of a vocal sample, I can duplicate almost anyone this way. Only over comms and systems, though.”

  “Infiltration model.” She nodded in understanding. “Handy skill to have.”

  “It was. Now, it’s just a party trick, and I don’t do parties.” He reverted to his normal voice. “Finish eating. I’ll grab your present.”

  She sat down and tackled her meal, devouring the rest of her sandwich in quick, hungry bites. She’d need to be going very soon, and she wasn’t sure she could trust the tablet to guide her back. “Can you give me a few landmarks to aim for in case this thing craps out again?”

  “I’ll walk you back myself. I don’t want you getting lost.”

  “Oh! Thank you.” More time with Striker was a bonus she hadn’t expected. Maybe she’d be able to steal a few more kisses along the way.

  “This is for you. If anyone gets handsy, use this on them.” He set a dagger down on the table beside her. The scabbard was tooled leather dyed a forest-green, and the hilt of the blade was a piece of polished wood stained a deep red. It fit perfectly into her hand, and when she pulled it from the sheath, she stared at the blade in shock.

  “It has waves in the metal. It’s beautiful!”

  “It was hand forged. I don’t understand the process, but that is the result. I thought you might like it.”

  “I do!” She slid it back into its sheath and then got to her feet, moving close enough to hug him. “Thank you. That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me.”

  “Just remember to use it.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think Anya would appreciate me stabbing the customers. But I will wear it openly and hope they take it as a warning.”

  “If they touch you, hurt them. They’ll learn to behave.”

  “I need to keep my job, too. Don’t worry. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I know how to handle randy customers. And really, the ones at the Bar None are pretty tame. It’s a great place to work.” It was safe, clean, friendly, and her pay was three times what she could have earned in her old life. And it wasn’t in corporate vouchers, either. It was in hard Vardarian currency she could spend anywhere.

  Striker’s jaw tightened and he got a stormy look in his eyes.

  She laughed and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine, big guy. Don’t worry about me.”

  She could take care of herself, but she liked that he was worried about her. It was nice to know he cared.

  Striker walked her back to the edge of the colony and then waited in the shadows of the trees to make sure she got back to her pod. Once she was inside, he started walking back to his cabin, mulling over the day’s events and what he wanted to do next.

  He didn’t get far before he realized that wasn’t the right direction. Tonight, he might need to be somewhere else. First, though, he needed more information. He did something he didn’t do often. He called Edge via their internal link.

  “What kind of place is the Bar None?” he asked without preamble.

  “And hello to you, too. It’s a bar. Walls, floor, tables, drinks, and damned good food. Why? Are
you actually considering being social for once?”

  “No. Maybe. Do they hit on the women there? I heard a lot of flirting goes on.”

  “You really are spending too much time on your own. Yes, a lot of socializing goes on there, and everywhere else males and females are together. Your habi-pod was next to mine until we moved to the other side of the river. I know you did your share of socializing. I heard you.”

  “That was months ago.”

  “I know.” There was a pointed pause. “So, are you going to the Bar None tonight?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “It’s about time. Do you remember how to do this, or do you need a wingman?”

  It took Striker a moment to figure out what Edge meant. He thought Striker was going to find some female company. He didn’t bother correcting his friend. “I can manage on my own, thanks. If you need help though…”

  “No help needed. Enough single Vardarian females are around to keep me busy for years. If you want a drinking partner though, let me know.”

  “I will. Thanks.” He wasn’t going to the bar to drink. If he went, it would be to make sure no one bothered Maggie.

  He’d tossed the remaining sandwiches into a pack before leaving. He had planned to give them to Maggie, but she’d kissed him goodbye and he’d forgotten about them until she was back inside. She was the only woman he’d ever kissed who could do that to him. When he was with her, he had tunnel vision. All he could see or think about was her.

  He fished around in the pack for one of the sandwiches and munched on it as he jogged back to his place.

  He should have made sure she ate more before she left. Hell, he hadn’t even managed to give her the water she’d asked for. Kissing her had seemed like a much better use of his time. Not that he’d initiated the kiss. He’d been denying his interest in her since the beginning. Because she was human. Because he preferred his own company. And yet somehow, she’d slipped past all his defenses.

  “If my batch-siblings could see me now, they’d laugh their asses off.” He’d told them so many times to stay alert and never drop their guard. And he’d been blindsided by a redhead with eyes that reminded him of summer in the woods and a laugh as bright as sunlight.

 

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