by Nina Croft
He was glad to hear the sarcasm in her voice. It proved she really was getting back to normal. “Watch and admire,” he murmured.
Chapter Eight
Oh God, I killed a man.
His blood sang in her body, buzzed in her brain.
The exhilaration of that last draw of blood, when his life force had become hers, thrummed through her body. Rico was right. There was nothing to compare.
But I killed a man.
She’d been clinging to the dream that she wasn’t a killer. Now she could never go back. Though maybe she wouldn’t get the chance anyway.
They were in a small cell about nine feet by nine feet with bare stone walls. Solid walls. How the hell did Fergal think he was going to get them out of here? Had he led her to a dead end on purpose?
Already, the gas hung heavy and acrid on the air, drifting around them, tendrils tugging at her consciousness. Would this be the last she would see? Would they stake her before she awoke?
She searched Fergal’s face for any sign of a plan. One eyebrow lifted, as though he sensed her skepticism. He raised his right arm between them. For a second nothing happened. Then silver ran over his skin, seeping from beneath his shirtsleeve, flowing over his hand, encasing his fingers in metal. The hand formed a fist, and the fingers fused.
He stepped toward the far wall, raised the fist, and smashed it into the stone at shoulder level. Dust flew, but nothing much else happened. He stared for a second, raised the arm again, and the fist flowed into a point. This time when he punched the wall, the point sank in.
He yanked it free, tearing stone, and punched twice more.
Daisy coughed, trying to clear her airways, but the gas was thickening, clogging her lungs, fogging her mind.
Fergal’s hand shifted to hook shaped, and he dragged the stones from the hole, enlarging it. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, but he didn’t slow until there was a hole big enough for a person to squeeze through.
Clean air flowed into the room, and her brain cleared, relief washing over her. “That was impressive,” Daisy said, admiring his appendage. “Can you make that thing any shape you like?”
He cast her a grin. “As long as it’s the same overall size, then yeah.”
“Cool.”
“It is. Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
He waved a hand to the gap, and Daisy stepped up and then sideways to squeeze through. She found herself in another tunnel. The air was a little stale but clear of gas, and she breathed deeply. There was no light apart from what came through from the cell, but she could make out a passage leading in two directions, one heading up, presumably toward ground level, and the other down.
Fergal swore as he squeezed through the small gap, his shirt tearing on the sharp stones. He grabbed her hand as soon as he was through and headed off up toward the surface, pulling her behind him.
Soon they were in total darkness. Daisy’s vision had improved since she’d been changed—vampires needed to be able to see in the night—but even she couldn’t penetrate the stygian darkness.
Fergal slowed to a walk. “Put your hand out. Feel the wall. We’re looking for a turnoff to the left. If we keep in this tunnel, it will take us up to the main prison, and we don’t want to be there right now.”
She stretched out her arm until her fingertips brushed the rough stone of the wall, keeping the contact as they walked, slowly now.
The dark didn’t frighten her, but she could feel the weight of the rock above her pressing her down. She squeezed Fergal’s hand and held on tight. Finally, the wall at her fingertips vanished, and she halted. “Here.”
They entered the new tunnel. This climbed more steeply and eventually the darkness eased until she could make out the cobbled floor and the stone walls on either side. At the end of the tunnel was an iron grille with an old-fashioned padlock. Fergal drew his laser pistol and shot out the lock then kicked down the grille. The other side was overgrown with vegetation, but he pushed through and she followed, the branches stinging the skin of her face. Finally, they were through and into the clear air.
A moon hung lazily in the sky.
She was alive. Well, sort of. Unlike the man she had killed.
Who had he been? Good? Bad? Did he have children, people who loved him and would miss him?
“Stop thinking,” Fergal said from behind her. “We’re not out of this yet.”
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Around the side of the main building.”
“It’s lucky you knew about the tunnel.”
“Not lucky. It occurred to me that I might need a quick way out one day, so I studied the plans. This was used by the Church, but closed off when the place was turned into a prison.”
If she listened hard, she could hear a general commotion far off to the right somewhere. The noise of a shuttle engine rose above it. One appeared above them and headed into space. Then another.
Her comm buzzed, and she raised it. “Yes?”
“It’s Skylar. Are you two okay?”
“We’re outside the prison.”
“Can you lie low for a while? We have someone on our tail right now. We need to lose them before we head back to The Blood Hunter.”
Fergal spoke. “Don’t worry—just get away from here. We’ll follow you.”
“You will?” Skylar sounded skeptical.
“Well, you managed to fuck up my cover, so there’s not much point in me hanging around. I have a shuttle stashed for emergencies. We’ll take that.”
Skylar was silent for a moment, or she’d switched off the comm while she consulted someone else—probably Rico. “Okay. Daisy knows where to rendezvous with us. We’ll see you soon. And Rico says remember what he said and bring her back safe. Just a minute…” She went quiet again. When she came back, her voice held a hint of amusement. “He says ropes won’t hold her, metal cuffs are best in his experience.”
Daisy snatched her arm away. “Piss off,” she said and closed off the comm.
They needed to keep moving, because if she stopped she’d have to start thinking again. That wasn’t a good idea until she was somewhere safe and quiet and preferably where she could be alone. Because she had a weird notion she was going to crack and break. Then she’d have to put herself back together again. She’d already nearly cried in front of Fergal once, and she didn’t want to do it again—properly this time. It would not be pretty.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She hesitated. “The man I killed—did you know him?”
“As well as I knew any of the guards.”
“What was he like?”
Fergal considered her, his head cocked to one side. “A complete and utter bastard—used to torture helpless prisoners, probably puppies and kittens as well.” Her eyes narrowed on him, and he shrugged. “What do you want me to say? He was just a guy, no better, no worse than a whole load of others. But you really don’t want to know him. Stop torturing yourself. He’s dead and you’re alive.”
She gave a rueful smile. “Sort of alive.”
“Yeah, sort of. Now let’s get out of here. You can have a breakdown once we’re away.”
“I will not break down.”
He definitely looked doubtful. “Good.”
“Where is this shuttle? And what sort of range does it have?”
“She’s a couple of miles away. And she should be good for anywhere in the system. If you want to go farther out, we’ll have to find something bigger.”
“No, that will work.” She considered telling him where they were headed, but she wasn’t quite sure she trusted him yet. Though the fact was, he didn’t have to take her anywhere. He could dump her here, fly off without her, and get on with his own business. Whatever that was.
He hadn’t needed to tell Skylar he would take her. He could have let them organize something else. They wouldn’t have left her here. They never left crew behind. It was an unwritten rule. But perhaps Fergal didn’t know that.
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br /> Should she ask him why?
Did she really want to know?
Maybe it was better to wait until they were away from this place before she started with the interrogation. Once in space, he was unlikely to dump her out the air lock, but he might still leave her here if she annoyed him enough.
“Thanks for getting me out,” she said. “You could have left me when I went all bloodsucking monster in there.”
“I thought about it.”
“Not for very long.”
“I’m no hero, but even I can’t sleep with a girl one night and leave her to die the next.”
“We didn’t exactly sleep together.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Actually, that’s all we did.”
He set off walking, and she followed. The track was narrow and overgrown, and she stayed behind him, which was no hardship. Fergal Cain had a great ass. She watched it as an alternative to thinking.
His metal arm had returned to normal. That had been seriously impressive. Last time they’d met, he’d told her that he was only beginning the changes, and that Cybercom was doing some real advanced stuff involving cybernetics and the combination of man and metal. How else had he changed?
He was super strong.
She was pretty sure from what she had seen that his brain was far from normal, and he could commune with computers almost as if he was one himself. He tried to hide it, but she’d spent enough time trying to dig out intel since Janey died to know that what he did was in no way normal.
They would have a couple of days to make it back to Trakis Two—more if the shuttle was old and slow. Maybe he would open up a little then.
The shuttle stood in a clearing surrounded by thick vegetation. Obviously old, but solid and big—she’d carry ten people with ease. Inside, she had a food dispenser and a small bathroom off the single cabin. Two seats faced the console with a further eight around the edges. And a couple of bunk beds built into the wall.
“Can you fly this thing?” he asked.
She glanced at him. “Can’t you?”
“In theory. But I’ve never actually tried. I paid some smugglers to get it here.”
Maybe that was why he had brought her along. The thought sent a pang of something—disappointment, maybe—running through her. “I can fly anything.” While she’d never flown one of these models before, it was close enough to the old Blood Hunter shuttles not to be a problem.
She sat in the pilot’s seat and flicked on the engines.
“Are you okay now?” he asked, taking the seat beside her.
“I guess.” She wasn’t totally convinced. She’d killed someone, but she was doing her best not to think about it until they were both out of danger.
“Not going to go all scary monster on me again?”
She closed her eyes and found the darkness sleeping, and for once, the hunger wasn’t clamoring to be fed. Her body was satisfied, more so than in a long time, probably since before Rico had changed her.
Guilt flickered across her mind.
She’d killed and she felt good. That seemed totally wrong, but she had a flashback to the sensation of the life force flowing into her and residual pleasure bathed her whole body in warmth.
“Daisy?”
She blinked. “Sorry. No, I’m good. I’ll be fine. Strap yourself in—this might get bumpy until I get the feel of her.”
She strapped her own harness and waited until Fergal was ready in the seat beside her before switching on the main thrusters. They rose smoothly. Leaning across, she hit the switch to turn on the external monitors. The planet was below them now, and she could see the clearing where they had taken off. All was quiet.
As she hit the boosters, they shot off, heading for space, and the same sense of exhilaration filled her that always took hold when she flew. Right from the first time, she had loved flying. She’d made Rico’s life a misery badgering him to let her take the controls. It was a wonder he hadn’t snapped and bitten her head off. Finally, Tannis had suggested that it might be useful to have a copilot on board, just in case anything happened to Rico—something Tannis considered likely with his innate ability to piss people off—and her life had been complete. She would have been happy with that life forever, but everything had changed when Skylar had come on board. She’d made them an offer they couldn’t refuse, setting in motion the events that had resulted in Janey’s death and everything else that had happened.
Daisy didn’t blame Skylar, though, and she was glad that Rico had found someone. They were perfect for each other. Maybe if she survived sixteen hundred years she’d find someone. By then she’d have the control not to rip their heads off while they were making out. And they’d love her enough not to be put off by the whole scary monster thing. But that was way off in the future. With a sigh, she cast a sideways glance at Fergal. He was slumped low in his seat, rubbing at a spot on his forehead, his eyes closed.
“How about you?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
He turned to her, and his eyes opened. “No.”
The answer took her by surprise. “No?”
He rubbed a hand through his hair. “There’s something I need to do. I’m not going to explain what right now. But it doesn’t involve you or your friends, and it’s better you don’t know.”
“Mysterious,” she muttered.
“Yeah, I’m good at that. Anyway, I just got a whole lot farther away from doing it.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my decision. And for once, I did have a choice.”
“Are you regretting it?”
“Not yet. I’m telling you this because I can’t stay with you. I take you to this rendezvous and then I need to be out of there.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not the clingy sort.” But she couldn’t deny the pang of loss that shivered through her. She didn’t want him to go.
This thing with him was new, but the truth was she’d fancied him from the first time she’d seen him all those months ago on the old Blood Hunter. She’d wanted him back then. Hell, she’d had him back then and the memory had sustained her for a long time afterward.
No, she didn’t want him to go. But she had no way to keep him, and no right. She was a monster with nothing to offer a man right now. Better to accept that.
“What happens if you don’t do this…mysterious thing you have to do?” She studied his face while she waited for an answer. He sat back in his seat, and his brows drew together. Was he deciding what to tell her? At least he was thinking about it and not shutting her out.
“The truth? I don’t know. But nothing good.”
“And if you do this thing, you’ll be okay?”
He turned his head and gave her a wry grin. “Again—I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s honest anyway.” She took a deep breath. “The rendezvous is on Trakis Two.”
“The planet that never sleeps. So how long to get there?”
She checked the monitors. “About thirty hours, give or take.”
He cast her a long, slow look, his gaze drifting down over her body, so heat flushed her skin. “Thirty hours locked in a small room with a bloodsucking monster,” he murmured.
She swallowed her rising excitement. “Well, I think we’ve already decided your blood is safe.”
“Hmm. I don’t suppose you suck anything else?”
She snorted. “I haven’t actually risked it.”
“Can you set to autopilot?”
Something hot stirred in her belly. He was a brave man to be willing to try again after she’d nearly ripped his throat out, but a sideways glance told her he was watching her out of sleepy eyes. She dropped her gaze lower and saw the bulge in his pants. When she looked back at his face, a rueful smile curved his lips. “There’s something about danger that makes my dick hard.”
“Really?” She swallowed again and reached across, her fingers almost fumbling as she set the coordinates and checked again that there was nothing behind them. Likely any available shi
ps were following Rico. They were alone in the vastness of space.
Sitting back, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her belly, the wetness between her thighs. While she wanted this desperately, she didn’t want to hurt him again. She bit her lip and turned to him. “You sure you want to risk it again?”
His gaze dropped down over her, lingering on her breasts, where her nipples pressed urgently against her shirt. “Sweetheart, I don’t plan on there being any risk involved.”
Suddenly she struggled to get enough air into her lungs. “You don’t?”
“Strangely, I don’t have any cuffs on board—I’ll have to remember to pack them next time—but I’m sure we can come up with something that will do the job.”
“The job?” Her voice was breathy.
Would she really let herself be tied up? Put herself totally in his power? Last time she’d been worried he would escape. This time he had nowhere to go.
Heat flooded her sex.
“I’m going to tie you up and fuck you until there’s no room inside you for any darkness. No room for anything but me.”
“You think you can do that?”
He gave a smirk. “Oh, yeah.”
She chewed on her lip.
“You’re thinking too much. Wouldn’t you like to stop thinking for a while?” He gave another rueful smile. “I know I would.”
For a second, she caught a brief glimpse into his mind. Saw a loneliness bordering on despair. She’d felt alone for six months, and it was hard. Fergal had been alone for much longer. What had made him cut himself off so completely? She suspected it went back way before Cybercom.
And she could help him. If only for a little while. It was that thought, more than the blood thundering in her veins, throbbing between her thighs, that made up her mind. She gave a quick nod, and the tension drained from him.
“Good, because I’m about to explode here.”
“You are?”
He unfastened his harness, reached across and took her hand in his. Drawing her closer, he pressed her palm to his groin so she could feel the steely hardness of his erection.
“It’s like an unstable laser pistol, likely to go off at any second.”