More noises came from behind, but she was too tired to look. Then Rutger walked past and dropped something heavy on the table, making the judges flinch and splutter.
“Oh, quiet down. Hello, Cyn, again. This is Little Mo.” He rapped his knuckles on the rusty, frypan-sized robot. “This is Cyn’s helper. Whatever else it is I’m not entirely sure, but it may have vital evidence. So all of you shut the fuck up with this half-assed decision until we see it. Cyn, tell it to cough up the video.”
Stunned, she could only stare at Rutger.
“You know! The one he must have recorded on the day you killed a Ghoul Lord.”
“Ohhh.”
“He must have done? Surely?” This time Rutger looked closely at her, and she realized how painful this was for him. He, at least, wanted her to live.
Pull up those big girl panties. Time to do some adulting and stop blubbering out tears.
“Yes, of course.” Take another deep breath, forget your hands are going numb, or that the Lure is whispering at you. “Mo?”
With its rusty metal limbs raised, her robo-critter scuttled and circled to face her. “Yes, Cyn. I have been in concealment awaiting your release. Do you wish to see the recording? If so, you’ll need a way to output it.”
“I do wish to see it, Mo. Can anyone help with this? Please?”
They shouted for Locke who’d done this before, and while all the fussing happened, Rutger came to her side and made her sit again.
“We’ll wait together,” he told her, crouching down yet managing to look eminently desirable and big. His horns spattered blue motes into the air. His one totally blue eye in the blue socket seemed ever so wise to her. He’d found something that could help her, providing Mo had looked in the right direction.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, leaning into him, into this furnace of masculine heat. Then she dared to add softly, “I need you.”
“I need you too. Soon.” He squeezed her thigh and the dig of his fingers into her flesh sent her hormones into a tizz. “It was my pleasure. Of course if this works, you’re still going to have a lot of explaining to do. I don’t trust you entirely either.”
“Oh.” If she was him what would she do or say? The same? “And if it doesn’t work?”
“I don’t know. He shrugged. “We run?”
She could do that, but without Vargr… She felt itchy and uncomfortable even considering that. This whole bondmating thing would be the end of her.
Chapter 2
While people milled about helping Locke connect Mo to a projector they’d powered up with a solar battery, Cyn had to remain seated and wait… wait to find out if they were going to decide she was an insane murderer. Anger resurfaced. What. The. Fuck.
She’d killed a motherfucking Ghoul Lord. People died in battle. It happened. Most of these were ex-soldiers and should realize the costs of war.
Her stomach was cramping again, from stress or whatever.
Not that she’d wanted to kill Tom, her angelic friend, or anyone, or to hurt Vargr.
She’d dropped into that guilt loop, again. Being angry only took her so far. She stared at her feet and tried to figure out what her body and mind were doing. It was as if she’d found a foreign land inside herself, because she didn’t know why she’d forgotten to check for friends before shooting. The violence had filled her up, to the very top. There’d been nothing left except the desire to kill that thing.
Rutger was staying with her, but she wasn’t keen on hand-holding and hugs at a time like this. Besides, she was cuffed.
Finally they had the video playing via Mo. Her small robotic companion was perched on the table with cords running from him. The entire thousand or so Worshipper tribe seemed to have gathered for this movie, though there would be some out hunting and gathering.
It was enough to ram the importance of this event down her throat, if she wasn’t already living on a thread of hope.
Please, please, show what I need.
The video blurred due to the distance to the overhead glass visor it was playing on. The Parklands glass shield was there to protect the long opening in this scraper from the elements. One day it would fall or break. Today it let them watch a movie.
Cyn found Rutger gripping her hand at her back, while what was at most a five-minute video ran until the end of the relevant part, where all the death happened. There were feet and legs and shouting, the flashes as she fired her gun or the Thing exploded. Screams, more running feet, but that was after she’d shot everyone she was going to. Mo had been down on the floor the whole time with little view of the fight. He’d watched as she collapsed to the floor and was taken down by several beasters, bound, and dragged away—some of that showed through the gaps between the people. Then Mo had run off and hid.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. It hadn’t shown anything she needed. Just Tom bleeding out. Her crashing to the floor, exhausted.
“Fuck.” She lowered her head, shut her eyes, and felt Rutger slip his hand from hers.
The crowd around her was getting louder.
“Quiet!” Rutger yelled. “Quiet. Please.”
The judges were talking among themselves.
“Nothing, yes?”
“Nothing that helps her, no.”
“I agree, unfortunately.” That last one was Willow. “I was actually hoping…”
The crowd noise had lessened, and she heard Vargr begin to speak. Oh great. This would not be good. She was going to lose everything after escaping from the Top, escaping from the Ghoul Lords, after killing one. This ignorant goddamned bunch of—
Vargr’s words finally reached her. The bastard was being all matter of fact. “Replay that last minute. I saw something.”
He had? With her fingers twined tightly in Rutger’s, she raised her head to watch. The last minute of the vid played, and she thought she knew what he’d seen. A glimpse of a trail leading across the floor. A bloody trail left by the Thing.
Hope rose from the ashes.
“Uhhh. You see that, Cyn?” Rutger asked. “That cannot be human?”
She nodded, straightened. “Yes, I did.”
“Did you see it at the time?”
“No, I don’t think I did, but he was falling apart as I fought him.”
“What is that?” Mads spoke up. “Blood? Just means he was bleeding.”
“No!” She’d found her voice again. “It’s more than that! Mo, can you zoom in on that trail he left on the floor?”
“Yes, Cyn.”
The vid rewound, froze then refocused on the bloody path, stopping and freezing at various resolutions. It was clear this was not only blood. It was pieces of flesh. Then Mo zoomed in on a small piece to the side and a toe came into focus. A toe in a spatter of black blood: old blood—not fresh and red.
“I told you so,” she said quietly, then louder, “I told you! He was falling apart. He was not a normal human, but a thing filled up with Ghoul Lord. You were all affected by the Lure!”
The curses this time were interspersed with cries of dismay and even a few sobs. The grim faces of those near her would look from the video frame showing above, then to her, then they’d recheck the image as if disbelieving what their own eyes showed.
“Now they get it,” Rutger muttered. “Judges?”
When the people quietened, Mads Thresher was the judge who stood to address them. He raised his arms, lowered them, pushing downward with his palms. Silence fell.
“Thank you.” He drew a breath, grimacing, and looked from one side of the crowd to the other, pausing at Cyn. “I think that proves we were deceived, and that what Cyn killed was a Ghoul Lord, as she seems the expert on this—”
“Unless she made us all see that!” someone pointed out.
“You’re pushing it there, Stu!” Mads stared at the speaker. “If she was that good at messing with us, why is she even sitting in that chair?” He pointed at her. “No. We agree the Lure was affecting us, most of us. A Ghoul Lord, or a creature taken over by one
was here, walking among us. We owe Cyn an apology. We thank you for killing it and for averting what might’ve been a great massacre. You can take off her cuffs.”
A guard moved forward with a key and bent to unlock them at Cyn’s back.
“Thanks,” she said, and she massaged her wrists as she stood.
“However.” The judge lifted a hand to still the crowd, for they’d begun to call out. “We are also agreed that your behavior is worrying to us, Cyn. Witnesses said they saw you aim straight through Tom and Carl. Why did you have to kill them? Was it merely an accident? Can you tell us your reasons? The wings on you that some saw, your different aspects, the mystery as to what you are becoming… All of this is still a concern, when taken together.”
Wings? Half the beasters had them and hers were gone.
“Ahh.” What to say about shooting Tom and Carl? The truth? Fuck no, but yes but no. Her mind warred with her tongue. “Truthfully, I’m not sure.” There, it was out. “I just had one objective at the time, to kill a Ghoul Lord. I saw the danger we were in, and I overcame it however I could.”
Willow was staring at her with a wrinkle forming between her eyes, and Cyn met her gaze and waited. She rose to her feet, beside Mads. “Thank you for your honesty. I’m going to go out on a limb here, and I hope you’ll both agree with me. May I speak my opinion on what to do next?” She looked to Mads and Steve. They nodded.
“We can always disagree later,” Mads pointed out.
The moment seemed to quiver with ominous possibilities, or was that just the anxiety of the past few days bothering her? Rutger moved closer, standing as if he too could take upon him whatever was about to be said.
“Good. Cyn… and Rutger.” She smiled. “And Vargr too, I imagine, considering your close ties and the bonding between the three of you?”
Vargr stayed silent, shrugging slightly. The bandage on his arm was stark white and unmissable.
“Okay, this is what I believe is best for our Worshipper tribe. You killed a Ghoul Lord yes, Cyn, but we also saw you gun down two of our own with no respect for their humanity. The goal of finding this Big Daddy research vehicle, if that’s what it is… that’s reinstated. We’re going to find out what they did to us, and to you, although everything depends on it still being where it’s supposed to be and functional.”
Cyn nodded. “Good.”
“I think it best for the tribe that you’re sent away from us anyway.”
Ugh. Nice back-handed… insult.
“I propose we leave ASAP, as in tomorrow night. The members I want to see in this, and most are allowed to say no.” She gave Cyn a curt smile. “Are myself, Mads, Vargr, Rutger, Cyn, Kiko, and Locke. Also Maura, in the hope she will be useful in the future because she helped with the nanomachine research.”
Only if she could figure out how to alter the Lure again and fix Maura.
In the background to her whirling thoughts, Willow and Mads were directing people, ordering supplies, weapons, and asking for twenty more volunteers. Toother, the huge nanodog, arrived in the middle of this and insisted on attention from Willow by nudging her elbow and almost knocking her over.
Chaos, but it wasn’t about her only anymore. Thank god.
“This is all good. It’s what we need. Information.” Rutger leaned down. “You okay now?”
“Yes.” Cyn felt like screaming in joy and contented herself with a smile, only to falter when she saw Vargr staring. She knew him well enough. That was almost a threat and how was she to resolve this gap that’d widened between them?
She’d shot him. Not easy to remedy that.
“You’re going to have to talk to him.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Mind, I have the same concerns as Willow. You, Cyn, are going to sit down with me and with Vargr. Explain everything you may have held back. I’m going to fucking interrogate you. Or else I will also be your enemy. Bonded or not.” His eyes were fierce, and she had to steady herself not to show fear.
He might find it difficult to truly harm her physically, but she dreaded more some ill-defined consequence she could not quite imagine.
Him leaving her? Yes, it was that.
“Hear me, girl?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” If there was to be truth maybe she should begin now. “Just… I think I need to understand myself too.”
“Hmmm.” He nodded, thoughtfully, slow as a bear waking after a long winter. “Okay. We can do this. The nanomachines inside you, I think that’s what’s messing with you. It does that to me too. You know how I get angry and punch walls. Come with me. We’ll drag Vargr to a room by the ear if we have to.”
He held out his big hand and she placed hers in his.
Only Vargr, it turned out, refused to be dragged anywhere. The beaster merely glared and stalked away. Instead she let Rutger take her away to a room.
When he shoved her in, kicked shut the door then ambled toward her with a grim but sexy smile, she was pretty damn sure this was going to be more fun than the original interrogation option.
Then he pulled off his shirt and tugged at his fly. Backing away was only going to prolong the tension for so long. Her back met wall. A second later he caged her in with a hand on that wall to either side of her head.
“Did you get permission for this?” she asked huskily.
“From who?” He moved in closer until their mouths brushed as he spoke, and bit her there gently.
“Whom.” She couldn’t help smiling.
“That’s going to cost your ass, miss grammar nazi.”
Fuck. Her nipples peaked hard, and she had to swallow. The anticipation was killing her.
Chapter 3
“I’m going to undress you now.” Rutger found himself halting to stare down at her tits and that cleavage. With Cyn pinned against a wall, he could do whatever he wanted, and he planned to do just that. “Don’t fucking move, or I’ll brand whom on your butt with something that hurts.”
“Fuck yeah.” She wriggled where she stood.
“Fuck yeah, you won’t move?”
“Mmm.”
He cocked a brow, pretty sure she wouldn’t mind the other part either. He edged her jacket off one shoulder then maneuvered her so the other side slipped off. The jacket slid down the wall to the floor. Next came her midriff-baring white top which, when dragged over her head, left her tits mostly exposed. The bra she had on was lacy as fuck and barely covered her nipples.
Once he removed the bra, she was half-naked.
He paused to grab one tit and squeezed until she shut her eyes. How he loved the contrast of his gnarly hand on her perfect skin. As time went by, the spikes on his skin were growing thicker. He prayed she’d not get them anywhere pretty, because beasters tended to… though on her pretty was everywhere.
Rutger bent to kiss her again and traveled more kisses down her neck, while he played with her nipple—squeezing, circling it slowly with his thumb. Her moans tantalized. He wanted to hear all those turned-on noises while he fucked her.
“Make more of those sounds.” He bit her neck above the collar—that Vargr had locked on. Seemed wrong to take it off. Maybe he could use the D-shaped anchor points to tie her down if she bucked or something… or tried to get away.
As if.
Cyn was a badass chick, as the slang went, and she rarely let her defenses down, except like now—at sexy times.
“Stay.” He put a palm on her belly then caved to his knees, hitting the floor with a thump.
It was only natural to trail his hands down her sides, mapping out her curves, going over those gorgeous hips, and down. The buckle on her belt was a silver skull. With a yank, the belt slid loose from the loops, making a tinkle when he tossed it aside.
Rutger was on a mission to bite and lick her everywhere as he hauled her faded brown jeans and pink underwear down to her knees. Belly button, stomach, hips, over her mons, a little lower, and lower…
“Oh. Boots,” he muttered, pulling those off while ignoring her thro
aty chuckle. “Laughing at me gets you penalized too.” He nipped the front of her thigh and threatened to place that tongue over her clit, only to veer off and bite her to the left.
Her breathy squeals spurred him on, as well as his cock, which was desperate to be freed.
“Can I move yet?”
“Hell no, unless you want that belt on your rear.”
“So many threats and promises. Can I volunteer?”
He stared up at her, past the V where her thighs met. “Nope. Dare to, and I’ll blow past your limits.”
“Not sure I have those.” But Cyn stayed put, biting at her mouth, while he pulled off the last of her clothes then finished undoing the rest of his fly. With his cock freed he was sure he felt her tense.
“Forgotten what I had in my pants?”
“Kinda.”
“Open.” He slapped her inner thighs.
While she spread her feet further apart, he took hold of his cock and slipped his hand back and forth, stopping where the head flared into spikes. Those were mostly flattened but when he fucked the spikes slowly became erect, stiffening as they filled with blood. The feel of those sliding inside her last time had blown his mind. The sensation slowly made him bigger, harder. No female had enjoyed him fully hard and nearly as deep as he could go, until Cyn.
He slipped his other hand around the plump curve of her butt cheek to grasp it then met her gaze, gave himself another excruciatingly slow stroke. “I’m going to try this in your ass, one day, after I train you to take it. What say you?”
He guessed he should give her a choice over that one.
“Maybe.” Her eyes had widened a fraction, stayed there. “Just maybe.”
“Good. I’m going to eat you out now, but you’re not to come, yet. Nod.”
After a moment and a deep breath that pushed those tits out to the max, she nodded.
Hold that thought. He lowered his mouth to her, thumbing her open with both hands so his tongue had the very best access. The first lick over her clit made her groan and push herself forward. She groped for a hold on his horns, settling her hands around them as if they were handlebars. He chuckled and thought about commanding her to let go.
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