by Cynthia Sax
He hoped it would be enough to save her.
Chapter Six
Mira couldn’t see anything. Her view was blocked by her cyborg’s massive arms. But she felt. Oh, did she feel. Her body ached. Her cheek throbbed where it had connected with the floor. There was a burning in her right shoulder.
She wasn’t certain what had happened.
All she knew was that it was really, really bad, and she had caused it, by telling Vapor about her mom.
Mira had been standing by mom’s side, holding her hand, when she had been apprehended. The Commander in charge had wanted to kill her also, to tie up loose ends, ensuring that no being ever knew that the wife of the famed Designer had been a traitor.
Her mom had begged and pleaded with male, sacrificing her pride and her dignity to save Mira’s life. She made her vow to remain silent, telling her that bad things would happen if she ever said anything about that planet rotation.
Mira had kept her promise. She’d never told another being, never talked about that planet rotation, ever.
Until moments ago, in her transport ship.
She’d told her cyborg, because she had to tell some being, the knowledge was eating her alive, and she knew he wouldn’t believe her. That hadn’t mattered. She had talked and now, others were paying for her mistake.
Unable to deal with the consequences of what she’d done, she remained still, feigning unconsciousness. She was safe. Her body was safely tucked under Vapor’s, hidden from the worlds.
The scent of smoke and fuel singed her nostrils. Liquid dripped, dripped, dripped on the stone tiles by her face. Each droplet fell as if in slow motion. She suspected the substance was blood.
It wasn’t hers. It must be her cyborg’s.
Vapor’s breath blew over her hair. His chest rose and fell. He was alive.
For now. She heard a rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire, barely audible through the rush of sound in her ears.
Cyborgs were tough but they could be killed, especially big, hunky cyborgs lying flat, making themselves as large as possible to protect their human females.
“Vapor.” She wiggled.
“Stay where you are.” His voice was low and rough. “Thrasher is clearing the first wave of insurgents and then we’ll move.”
Why wasn’t he helping his friend? Panic coursed through her. “Are you hurt?”
“My injuries are minor.”
Minor. Mira relaxed. She could deal with minor. “Shouldn’t you be fighting?”
Vapor shifted over her. “Our mission is to protect you. I’m protecting you.”
“But—”
“Don’t question me, foolish female. You’ve already put all three of us at risk with your recklessness. Remain quiet and still and allow us complete our mission.”
His anger was justified. Mira’s body trembled. This was all her fault.
She had caused her mom’s death by telling Lydna about their secret meeting place and she’d caused this disaster by telling Vapor about her mom. How many more beings had to die before she learned to keep her big mouth shut?
“Hush.” Vapor kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We’ll survive. The humanoids aren’t skilled fighters. Thrasher can subdue them.”
The gunfire stopped, replaced by wailing, the sound of hundreds of beings in pain. Vapor braced his body upward.
Mira turned her head and met the blank gaze of a blonde female.
Memories flooded her brain, mixing the past with the present, and, in that one heart-stopping moment, she was a little girl again, kneeling on the cold, hard floor, pulling frantically on her mom’s hand, begging her to speak, to say anything. Her mom hadn’t responded. She was already gone, her body an empty shell. Her eyes, once filled with life, with laughter, with love, were flat and soulless.
They haunted Mira every rest cycle. This female’s eyes would also. She struggled to put a name to the beautiful face. Kay…Kim…Kimya. That was it—Kimya.
She was a young socialite. This had been a date night for her and her husband. They had two small offspring whom they left in the care of her parents. The parents lived three districts away. Hopefully they would be safe from harm.
From physical harm. They’d suffer from emotional harm. Their mom wouldn’t be returning to them, wouldn’t ever hold them, kiss them, tell them they were loved.
Crimson stained Kimya’s chin. Her body was shredded, her limbs posed at impossible angles. A hand, not connected to her, was curved around a broken beverage container. Jewels decorated the pale lifeless fingers.
“I killed her,” Mira whispered.
“You didn’t kill her.” Vapor pushed himself to his feet, grunting with the effort.
Moments ago, beings had been smiling, laughing, reveling in their position at the top of the social hierarchy. Now, everywhere Mira looked she saw devastation, bodies, destruction, gore.
“I did this.” Her head spun. Her stomach heaved.
“You didn’t do this.” He bundled her into his arms, losing his chest covering in the process, and pushed her face against his chest. “Don’t look. This is my world, not yours.”
This was her world. She had destroyed it. Mira inhaled Vapor’s scent, a mixture of male and metal, not knowing how to repair the damage she’d done.
“The insurgents are regrouping. They have the structure surrounded.” Thrasher’s voice was as ragged as Vapor’s. “The humanoids can’t fight worth a frag but they have numbers. They’ve turned the entire city into a battlefield.”
Booms echoed. The building shook. White pigment powder fell from the ceiling, coating their hair and skin.
“Then we find somewhere to wait it out.” Vapor didn’t sound concerned. “Are the safe rooms unoccupied?”
“They’re full of beings and the insurgents are trying to blast them open as we speak.”
“The tunnels,” Mira mumbled against her cyborg’s warm skin.
“What?” Vapor eased his hold on her.
She gazed up at him. His face was blackened, deep cuts carved into his cheeks and chin. “There are tunnels under the city.” X used them to hide supplies from the Humanoid Alliance. “Few beings know about them.”
“Thrasher?”
The cyborg was roughed up also, streaks of red parting his hair. “Scanning.”
Movement to the right snagged her attention. A male, a being she’d only met once, dragged his body across the floor, forging his way toward them. He had no legs, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
“That could work.” Vapor nodded. “Where’s the nearest entrance?”
The male reached out his dirty fingers to her. “Please,” he beseeched her.
Oh fuck. What could she do? She wasn’t a medic. She didn’t know how to heal him.
“Mira,” her cyborg boomed and her attention snapped back to him. “Where’s the nearest entrance to the tunnels?”
“Don’t know.” Her gaze drifted to the pleading male. More beings had joined him. “We need to help them.” They had to reverse the destruction she’d caused.
“We need to take you to a safe location. Thrasher?”
“Located it. Sending you the directions.” The cyborg gazed over his shoulder. A flap of skin hung off the back of his skull and Mira’s world wobbled. “They’re trying to enter the chamber again. Go.” He raised his guns. “I’ll cover you.”
“Hold on.” Vapor ran, grasping her with one arm, shooting with his free hand. Mira tucked herself into a ball, clinging to his sticky neck. He hunched his shoulders, shielding her with his body.
Gunfire rang out. Vapor turned, shot, sprinted, shot, ducked behind a pillar, released a barrage of projectiles at beings Mira couldn’t see. She gripped him harder.
He descended ridged ramp after ridged ramp, carrying her as though she weighed nothing. The shooting slowed, then stopped.
Vapor was a cyborg. The humanoids couldn’t match his speed.
He continued to run with her. Lighting dimmed and the air cool
ed. A mustiness replaced the scent of smoke.
Vapor bent, yanked at a trap door hidden in the floor, flung it open, revealing blackness. “Don’t let go.” There was no ramp, no ladder.
Mira opened her mouth to point that out. Vapor wrapped his arms around her and jumped. She screamed, the sound muffled against his chest. The fall felt endless, the blackness terrifying.
His body jerked and he dashed forward, air rushing over them. Vapor turned left, left, right, left. He must be navigating the maze of tunnels. Mira wasn’t certain. She couldn’t see anything. Dust fell from the ceiling. Booms reverberated through the space.
He slowed. A cringe-worthy creak joined the sounds of battle. “We’ll wait here.” He jostled her. Metal scraped against stone. He grunted. His muscles flexed against her, stretching tighter and tighter and then they relaxed.
“Can I help?” she whispered.
“You’ve done enough.”
Fuck. She had. She whimpered, remembering the carnage she’d caused.
“Hold it together, female.” Vapor’s voice was gruff.
There was a thump, thump and an illumination stick glowed, lighting his grim face. He lit three more, placing them around the small chamber. It appeared to be some sort of ancient laboratory. A piece of primitive machinery blocked the door. A sleeping support was pushed against a far wall. More machinery was covered with a layer of grime.
Mira eased her hold on him. “We can’t stay here. I did this. I have to undo it, save the others.” She had to somehow make things right.
“You didn’t do anything and we’re not going anywhere.” Vapor’s jaw jutted. “Not until the fighting is done.”
“This was all my fault. I have to—”
“No, you don’t have to.” He drew back the top covering of the sleeping support and plunked her ass on the clean surface. “You didn’t listen to me earlier but you’ll listen to me now.”
He was a bastard. She slid her fingers along his neck, down his back. Blood coated her palms. A piece of metal protruded from his skin.
All thoughts of helping others vanished.
“You said you had minor injuries.” Her voice rose. “You have shrapnel sticking out of your body. That’s not minor.”
“It isn’t lifespan threatening.” Vapor shrugged. “Are you damaged?” He gripped the bodice of her fabric wrap.
“I don’t have debris piercing my skin.” She batted his hands away from her. “Turn.”
He complied and she gasped. The skin on his back was shredded, his flesh cut down to his metal frame. She swayed, lightheaded. The shrapnel in his neck was dwarfed by a huge piece of beam protruding from his left shoulder blade.
“I did this to you.” Her soul ached. “I knew. I knew.”
He spun around to face her. “What did you know—that the insurgents were coming? That they were bombing the building?”
“I knew.” She couldn’t think.
“What did you know?” Vapor caught her waving wrists and pulled her toward him. “Tell me, female.”
“That’s it.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I told you.”
“What?”
“My mom said if I ever told any being about that planet rotation, the planet rotation she died, bad things would happen. But I told you anyway and beings died and you got injured. You’re in pain, Vapor, and it’s all my fault. I knew. I knew.”
“Telling me about your mother didn’t cause this.” He looked at her as though she was crazy and she might be. She didn’t know anymore. “Use your processors.”
Mira didn’t have processors. She had a human brain and it couldn’t absorb the horror of what had occurred. All she knew was she had finally broken her silence and moments later, beings were dead. That couldn’t be a coincidence. “I thought if you didn’t believe me, it wouldn’t count. No beings would get hurt.”
“Listen to me, you stubborn, pain-in-the-rectum female.” Vapor wrapped his arms around her, folding him into his big body, his tender actions belying his tough words. “You didn’t cause this. The attack had nothing to do with your mother’s death.”
Logically, she realized that. Emotionally, she believed it was all her fault. “But—”
“The insurgents were gathering before you told me about your mother.” He rubbed her back, moving his palms up and down, up and down. “I’m a warrior and I know battle strategy. Judging by their numbers and by their level of organization, they’ve been planning this for planet rotations. Unless you fed them information or financed their efforts—”
“I didn’t.” She’d never encourage any being to battle the Humanoid Alliance.
“Then you had nothing to do with the bombing.” Vapor rested his chin on the top of her head. She leaned against him, absorbing his warmth, his strength.
Cyborgs didn’t lie. If he said she had nothing to do with the bombing, she didn’t. The tension slowly eased from her shoulders. The tear tracks on her cheeks dried, pulling at her skin.
The guilt didn’t entirely dissipate. “I feel responsible.”
“You weren’t, not for the attack.” His chest rose and fell. “If you want to be held accountable for something, you can take the blame for the injuries to Thrasher and myself. You should have left when I told you to leave.”
“Your back.” Mira pushed against his chest. He didn’t move. “You need a medic.”
“Cyborgs don’t see medics. Our bodies repair without any assistance.”
“You’re half human. You feel pain.” Pain she’d caused. She gazed around them. It was doubtful that the laboratory had pain suppressors and even if it did, they’d be old. She wouldn’t trust their effectiveness. “I have to get supplies.”
“No, you don’t.” Vapor loosened his grip on her and looked down. Whatever he saw in her face made his expression soften. “You have to fix your mistake.” He released her and turned. “Remove the shrapnel.”
Maybe if she did that, her guilt would ease. “I will.” Mira moved closer to him, straddling his ass with her legs, the hem of her fabric wrap riding up to the waist. “But it’ll hurt.”
“It’ll hurt more if the skin heals around it.”
It would. Mira gazed at his shredded back and bile crawled up her throat. “If we had pain suppressors--”
“Pain suppressors aren’t used on cyborgs. You’re the Designer’s daughter. You’re aware of that.” He rolled his shoulders back, his exposed muscles rippling. “You can do this. You’re the strongest female I know.”
“I’m the only female you know.” She wasn’t strong, far from it. Steeling herself, Mira gripped the piece of metal at his nape and pulled. It didn’t move. She tugged harder and harder. Finally, it dislodged, leaving a huge gash.
Vapor gave no indication that he felt the removal. “I met forty-seven females this planet rotation.”
Many of those females were now dead. Mira clutched the shrapnel embedded in Vapor’s right shoulder. “Thank you for protecting me. I realize I was your mission and cyborgs always complete their missions. But I’ll never forget how you saved my life.”
“I didn’t protect you because it was my mission.”
“No?” She paused, resting her fingers on the metal fragment.
“No. I protected you because you’re mine.”
“I’m your kill.” He’d end her life and she wouldn’t fight that fate.
She deserved punishment, pain and death.
Chapter Seven
Vapor’s back was on fire. Sharp pangs of agony shot across his form. It was excruciating but he swallowed every anguished howl because, this planet rotation, he’d discovered there was something worse than a frame-deep wound.
Mira’s tears.
When his brave, rigidly self-controlled female had cried, something inside him broke. He wanted to kill the beings who had hurt her.
One of those beings included himself.
Her mother had rebelled against the Humanoid Alliance and they had executed her. Judging by Mira’s distress, sh
e’d seen it all. She would have been a child at the time, too young to remain silent.
But she hadn’t said a word to any being, fearing that ‘bad things’ would happen if she talked. She must have been forced to lie, to hide her anger and her grief and her fear, imitating the cyborgs she thought her father loved.
When she finally broke her silence, telling him the truth, he hadn’t believed her.
He was a bastard.
Not showing his pain was one small way he could make amends. Her fingers slid over his back, her touch tentative and light.
“There’s one piece of shrapnel left.” Concern warmed her voice. “It’s large.”
Vapor felt it protruding from his left shoulder blade. “Remove it.” He gripped the edge of the sleeping support, bracing himself for the pain.
She pulled and pulled and pulled, each tug of her hands nearly blinding him with torment. Vapor gritted his teeth.
“Shit. It’s slippery.” Skin rubbed against fabric. “I’m trying again.”
She wouldn’t be strong enough to dislodge it. “Wait.” He stood, moved to the wall, turned his face so she couldn’t see his reaction, and rammed his back against the hard surface.
Stars exploded in his brain. Vapor swayed on his feet. Frag, that hurt.
“What are you doing?” Mira shrieked. “Come back here right now.”
Vapor tried his best to obey her instructions but his legs weren’t functioning properly. He made it halfway to her and tumbled backward, landing with only a quarter of his ass on the sleeping support.
Mira wrapped her arms around him, seeking to hold onto him. His little human wasn’t strong enough for that feat. He slid downward.
“Vapor.” Her panicked voice pierced his sluggish processors.
He clasped the edge and pulled himself upward. Metal groaned but the sleeping support didn’t collapse.
“Loosened the shrapnel.” He slurred his words.
“I’ll loosen your skull from your neck if you ever do anything like that again.” She waited. He stabilized. She gripped the piece of beam. “This will hurt.” She pulled.
Flesh tore. The beam fell to the floor. Another hot wave of pain swept over Vapor. His circuits shorted and he sagged against her, relying on his female to support both of them.