But before he could act, she opened her mouth. “Stop the car.”
“What?”
She turned to him with emotionless determination and launched herself across the padded vehicle.
Her arm caught him across the chest; her fist passed his ear and erupted out the rear window, and he crashed through it as though he’d been yanked backward by a cable.
Fire exploded out the front and the car dropped through a hole in the street, falling into a girder, which also exploded, and slid sideways into the well of a floating house.
The lights flickered around them. He strove to figure out where he was. Firmly within the night district, only a few blocks from his residence. The distant sirens and flashing street lamps registered the accident.
She covered him on the street. Her face turned away so he could only see her profile in the red lamp. This was, perhaps, the last sight he would see. It didn’t fill him with fear.
It filled him with anger.
He struggled to his feet. “Where is the bastard?”
She pointed the direction she was facing, but not the direction she was looking. “In shadows. Camouflaged.”
“Go get him.”
“No.”
“Bring him down here. I want to ask him a few questions.”
“We don’t know what other traps he or she has set.”
“Resa, that’s an order.”
“Good thing you’re not actually paying me to be your employee.” She rose slowly. “No wonder your last head of security got himself killed. Perhaps if there were a similar distraction—”
He rolled upright and ran into the middle of the street.
The tile burst around him. He pounded across the wide square and ducked into the shelter of the next dome.
The gunfire stopped.
Something landed in the middle of the street. An invisible force cratered broken tile, denting the street. Dust puffed.
Resa landed next to him, fleet as a bird landing on delicate toes. “You must have a death wish.”
“Did you get him?”
She gestured at the empty crater. They walked out. The chameleon suit was still activated, hiding their attacker from sight.
“Is he dead?”
“Stunned,” she said, standing back and staring up at the wide night sky. “Ask your questions quick, before another one shows up.”
“You think there’s more than one?”
“This isn’t the same one that attacked at your cousin’s house.”
Shit. He leaned over the unnatural shadow in the middle of the crater. “Can he hear me?”
Something shifted on the ground.
He squatted and found the round bulb of a head, felt the overlap of fabric attaching the hood to the suit, and peeled it back. He looked on the killer of the highest echelon of Hyeon family, including his father, and saw…
…an utterly unfamiliar face. A man he had never seen before, not at any of the promotion events, not anywhere. The gun was also unfamiliar construction. Outworld.
“Not one of yours?” He lifted the gun to show Resa.
She shook her head, standing several strides away, eyes scanning the street for danger. “The Faction prefers lasers.”
Aris tapped the muzzle on the stranger’s temple. “Wake up.”
His eyes snapped open. Shock turned to fear, then a snarl.
“I see you recognize me. But I don’t recognize you.” He rose to his feet and aimed the gun square at the stranger. “I’ve just got a few questions—”
Resa made a noise.
The stranger grappled for his gun, disappearing Aris’s hand and arm in the suit. He tried to jerk back. The gun fired. The stranger’s face exploded, spraying little flecks of skull all over the street and Aris. The shadows flopped back, revealing the gun still in Aris’s hand.
No fucking way.
No fucking way!
“Shit!” he shouted, and screamed at Resa because she was there. “What the fuck? How can I ask him questions now that he’s dead?”
Emergency personnel lamps glowed as they approached. “You’ll ask him questions when he’s resurrected.”
“Weeks from now. And his restore point is probably before he took the job. He won’t know anything.” He dropped the gun and gripped his hair. He wanted to rip the last few seconds out of space. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
She regarded him obliquely. “Am I supposed to be psychic now, in addition to perfectly obedient?”
“Yes!”
“I’m one person,” she said. “I have a hardier physical body, better strength, speed, and flexibility, and impervious skin. I’m also smarter than you. But please remember I am not a god.”
“Well then, what good are you?” he demanded, knowing how ridiculous his demand sounded, but unable to stop himself. His self-destructive madness reached its ultimate end.
She stood, one small figure against a gaping hole in the middle of the street and a dead body in the center of it, while more emergency crews gathered.
“Resa—”
“You shouldn’t have held the gun within arm’s reach.” She turned away.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He broadcasted the news to his family, left the accident with the emergency crew, and followed her into the governor’s mansion. Resa locked down the security gaps and went out on her patrols. He gave up on thinking and soaked his injuries in a private bath.
That was when the lady rogue contacted him on his MAC necklace.
He was blinking to the chimed summons, having accidentally fallen asleep, when the lights shimmered, and then she projected as a holo on the far side of his bathtub.
His disappointment and exhaustion melted away. Now, something was happening. He twisted the necklace to enable the cone of silence. For all the security cameras and listening devices would see now was him, mouthing silently to himself. He shielded his lips. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”
The lady rogue raised a brow at his nakedness. “There’s a self-confidence I don’t see every day.”
“You certainly could,” he said. “Your figure is easy to appreciate as well.”
“I can’t hate you when you say it like that.” Her smile permeated her whole body. “They’re coming.”
Yes. Electricity almost raised him from his seat. “My sisters?”
“Them too.” Her smile, if anything, broadened. “The Robotics Faction Third Brigade.”
Three hundred ships, give or take, with at least three Firestarter class. Not a force for invading a galaxy, but a force for ensuring compliance with one little planetoid. They would soon surround his planetoid, and then his family would learn the danger.
“Why are they moving? Has the Faction figured out our ploy?”
She shook her head, too pleased with the desperate situation. “Something appears to be wrong with their zero class. She hasn’t killed you yet.”
A hot flush zipped through his body. “I haven’t revealed your location to her yet.”
“That wouldn’t have stopped her predecessor.” She tipped her head to the side. “Are you honestly sharing the same roof?”
He spiked with anger. “So what if I am?”
“Something is wrong with their zero class. Kick her out. Right now.”
“She saved me from two assassination attempts this week.”
“Those were ordinary attempts on your life. She’s a serious danger, Aris. Until I find out what game she’s playing, you can’t get too close.” She pointed at his chest. “Don’t let her into your heart.”
He patted the empty place where his heart used to reside. “There’s nothing left for her to get into.”
“Good. What are you going to do about the Third Brigade?”
“Something miraculous.” He rose and headed out of the bath. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”
“I hope you’re not going to see the zero class like that,” the lady rogue said from behind him.
“So what if I am?�
�
“She’ll burn out her optics.” She turned serious. “Remember what I said, Aris. Something is different about her. Wrong.”
Fury spiked, much hotter than he expected. He whirled to face her, and the screen was already blank. Which was good. It kept him from crushing it.
The strength of his feelings shocked him.
No. He refused to accept that he cared for Resa more than he cared for his family. More than he cared for himself, surely, but they still held plenty of secrets from each other.
He found Resa staring up at the sky again as he emerged from his bath.
“What are you looking for?” he asked. Expecting a poetic answer, like the seven stars or similar.
“I’m counting satellites,” she said.
“Why?”
“I’m looking for ones that don’t belong.”
Was it his imagination, or did she sound more distant? She had changed back into her flight suit and hugged her knees in the sill. Not the most dynamic, ready to fight stance.
“And have you found any?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
It wasn’t his imagination. “I thought your employers would have told you.”
She remained silent.
He offered her a glass of jasmine nectar. Her fingers closed over it, brushing his. She paused for a fraction of an instant. So short, he wouldn’t have recognized it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely for so long.
And there was that blush.
“Come to bed with me,” he said.
She snorted. “What?”
“Not sex,” he said. “Just keep me company.”
Her cheeks reddened. Sex disturbed her, but keeping him company seemed to affect her more. “No.”
“I’ve nearly been killed twice this week,” he said. “I watched my father die, and I killed a man by accident. I’m not thinking about sex right now. Please, Resa.”
She wavered.
He stroked her cheek. “I need you.”
Please, Resa. I need you.
The words curled inside her and unfurled like the blossom of a strange flower, filling her veins with a slow, hungry ache.
His touches were dangerous. Her desire was dangerous. Everything, dangerous.
He might not be thinking about sex, but she was. Thinking about his fingers tracing her jaw, drawing her forward, seducing her with his kiss. She wanted to taste it.
A slow, deep pounding woke deep in her center.
He smelled clean and warm and masculine in the new robe that opened to show off his hard chest. The fine hairs there, gray like the ones on his head, like a sandy vision of his father. She wanted to run her fingers through them. Feel all that he had to offer.
The jasmine honey zipped through her blood, sensuous and sexy.
Her desire was insane.
She clenched the sill. “Call one of your usual companions.”
“I have no usual companions.”
She frowned. Checking the security logs—which she had analyzed for data only, of course—backed up his statement. His playboy reputation, like the rest of his public persona, produced grand displays for business-like private seductions, and not romance in his core.
At his core was a sensitive, reckless, kind man with an adventurous streak bigger than a heart could contain.
Utterly unlike her disciplined, loving brother who took up arms only to defend her. And yet, they both valued family, honor, and deep loyalty.
Her voice cottoned in her throat. She cleared it. “You should call someone who won’t disappoint you.”
His infinite patience simply held her small, cold hands in both of his warm ones. “I’m sorry. Those were my father’s words, and I never meant to speak them to anyone, much less you.”
Much less her?
He stroked the back of her hand, sensitizing her with his clever thumbs. “Please comfort me. I need to remember who I am tonight before I do something else dangerous that gets us all killed.”
She allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her through the public areas into his private bedroom. Her mouth dried. She tried to swallow.
He led her to a small, private alcove. One where the bed covers splayed, in disarray, and his body shape fit the sheets. His masculine scent soaked the area, and if she laid down with him, it would soak into her body, into her skin.
He dropped a knee on the small bed.
She licked her lips. “I’ll watch over you.”
“Please.” He looked at her. “I promise this is not sex. I just need sleep.”
His sincerity hooked into her heart and pulled.
She followed him into the bed.
Control your emotions. Use his weakness against him.
Her nerves strung so tight she felt like the one with the weakness.
Turn to me. I will take away fear.
The danger drew her near.
He put a knee on the lumpy down and tugged on her. She lowered herself, hundreds of tiny muscles flexing individually in perfect control. Deliberate, controlled, oddly stiff.
Nothing was easy with her. She read the thought on his wryly-amused expression.
“I am not one of your usual companions,” she reminded him.
His wryness melted to pleased as he curled around her, drawing her stiff, robotic body against his.
“Thank goodness.” He arranged her limbs, molding her to spoon him. “I couldn’t handle performing for one of them right now.”
The light dimmed. Starlight shone through the distant windows, and the walls turned golden, and then pale pink.
His wide hand stroked her hair. Short, black crinkles. Under his masterful touch, they sprang back, soft and light and shiny. Hardness pressed into her buttocks, a masculine brand, hot and certain. Sexuality seeped into her pores, soaking in his scent. The knowledge twisted between her thighs, causing a strange ache.
He had promised not to touch her, and yet, she wished he would try. If he tried, she would break his hand. And yet the desire, and confusion, remained.
She licked her lips. “You are aroused.”
“A natural reaction to holding a beautiful woman.” He nuzzled into her hair and sighed. “Ignore it.”
His words only seemed to inflame her. “This is a bad idea. It’s impossible for anyone to sleep near you.”
“I used to sleep with my sisters like this,” he told her through a yawn.
She shifted. His hand palmed her thigh, dangerously close to her buttocks. “Hopefully not ‘just’ like this.”
“In the same bed.” He left his hand in place, drawing her forward. “Like a pile of puppies. Sweet, innocent baby puppies.”
His breath tickled her cheek. Warmth seeped into her cold body and softness cushioned her like sleeping on a dove’s wing. His arms held her, protected on all sides, keeping the bad things out.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your father.”
His heart rate spiked. The opposite of her intention. He tried to mask it with his tone and words.
“No.” He squeezed her, keeping her safe in his arms. “You saved everyone you could. He has a restore point. My uncle will carry on his wishes.”
“You’re upset.”
“Only because I once shared too many of his views. I despise my former self.”
She knew that feeling.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing deep. “Let’s throw off our old identities. Their sins are past. We live from today; our actions start from now. The person who I was is dead. Only now matters for us.”
She wanted to reach out. Her fingers tingled, imagining the texture of his hair, the heat beneath his skin, the smooth mastery over her desire.
He let out a deep, long sigh. The character of his grip changed from a desperate caress to a sleepy hug. His patterns slowly seeped into sleep.
She allowed herself to touch him. Just the outer edges of his hair, a feather-light touch no person could feel.
Once, she had slept with her family like this. T
he most comfortable, safe feeling. But something had happened. She had split from them, gone off alone with her brother.
She couldn’t hate Aris. For all of his excesses, for all of his human masculinity, for all of his dangerous caresses. For the ways he made her feel, even now.
He settled into sleep. Keeping his word. Another way he resembled her brother.
She had never felt about her brother the nervous-hungry sensations she felt for Aris though.
How she wished she could throw off her past self and ignore that Zenya had ever existed. She wished she could cut out the Faction from her body.
Treasonous words, her robot warned.
Treasonous, but oh so desirable.
She eased out of bed, hacked into his files, and scanned the census bureau data for the identities that masked a deeper plot. As soon as she understood the full scope of the Faction’s plans, she realized her robot had been lying all along. They had no time to waste. She had to run and awaken Aris. Even now, it was probably too late to escape. But they could figure out a plan to take as many with them as they could.
Instead of racing to wake him with the truth, Resa’s body strolled into his living chambers and perched on a couch.
While she screamed in her mind for control, her robot folded her hands neatly in her lap and awaited the full invasion.
Chapter Twelve
Aris awoke to an empty bed.
Endless night twinkled beyond the windowpanes in the gardens, but a cheery brightness he had programmed to simulate morning shone over the comfy couches and breakfast bar.
His delightfully dangerous head of security perched on the edge of the couch and all he could see was what looked like her playing with the nanobots. She lifted a breakfast glass into the beam, activating the bots and filling the glass with creamy orange froth, then slowly tipped it at the precise speed for the nanobots to re-assimilate it before it touched the floating table surface. Like a child from one of the lower houses in the morning, she repeated the magic, watching it with dispassionate stoicism.
She took a breath and asked, without looking in his direction, “Are you going to get up, or just keep watching me?”
Liberation's Vow (Robotics Faction #3) Page 16