by Morgan Hawke
She choked. That’s not me! She looked down. The curved white nails on her feet looked more like claws than toenails. It was her. Scarlet nipples crowned her breasts, framed by livid gouges from being bitten by long teeth -- gouges that were already closed and appeared to be well on their way to healing.
She turned to look at the reflection of her back and muscle rippled. She did not remember having that much visible muscle. She investigated the bites on her shoulders and neck. Those bites were healing, too -- healing faster than she’d ever healed in her life. Fingers tipped in curved white nails drifted up to the points of her ears.
She frowned at her face. “Damn it, I do not have green eyes!” She had hazel eyes, kind of bluish, kind of greenish with brown mixed in them...
The four reflective walls stated otherwise.
She scowled and saw her fangs for the first time. Damn, they’re longer than I thought. The small spurt of pride took her by surprise. She stepped back to look at her entire length.
She didn’t look human at all.
But then, they’d been telling her she wasn’t human. Not anymore. Her heart thumped hard. Sweat soaked her back. What had they done to her?
They had changed her. Just like Peter had said they would.
Fallon closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m still me. That’s just the outside.”
Peter had also said that she wouldn’t want to come back. An image of Sobehk flickered in her mind, followed by a stronger image of Khan’s naked back covered with marks from her nails.
“No.” She folded her arms tight against her stomach and felt the bunch of muscle under her palms. “On the inside, I’m still me.” She opened her eyes and reached for the soap in the wall dispenser, refusing to look at her reflection.
But she wasn’t her on the inside either. Someone had jammed a sleeper program in her head.
Terror froze her where she stood, and the visceral desire to find Khan swamped her utterly. She had the shower door open before she stopped. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Damn it, she could handle this herself. She was a top-notch hacker in her own right. If she could get into her own head, she could disable the program -- if she could find it.
But she wanted him.
“No, damn it. I don’t need him.” She slid the door closed and took several bracing breaths. She turned around and stomped back to the water to finish her shower. She didn’t need him.
Not right then, anyway. She could wait.
No, damn it! She slapped soap on her skin and lathered, shaking her head. She didn’t need him. But part of her did. Part of her wanted to hear his voice, to feel his hands touching her ... the perfume of his scent on her skin.
She scrubbed her golden skin with a vengeance, but the color didn’t come off.
Fallon shut off the water feeling more exhausted than when she had gone in. Tension sang in her bones. She wanted out of that bathroom. She activated the water collector and was dry in seconds. The scent of clean water and soap wreathed her skin. She smelled clean.
But she didn’t want to smell clean. The absolute worst urge to bolt out of the shower stall to find Khan burned through her. Something in her desperately wanted to rub against him to change her scent to his.
No, damn it! Stiff-legged, she stepped out of the shower and deliberately turned her back on the open door. Instead, she searched for a brush to do something with her overlong hair, but couldn’t find one.
She faced the door and gripped her elbows to keep from running. She stepped out and automatically searched for him.
Khan was on her left with his back to her, using a small computational. His pale skin was marked by old sword scars, smeared in dried blood, and covered in fresh scratches. Sleek muscle shifted in his shoulders and arms, creating an arresting display under that strange and sweeping tattoo. His long braid fell down his spine in a creamy line.
He had a great ass, too.
Her gut clenched. He was painfully beautiful to look at. She wanted to touch him, to be touched by him. She desperately wanted to get him to turn around and at least look at her. She set her jaw. No, damn it. It took everything in her to hold still and wait.
Khan shut down his computational, sighed, and raised his head, setting his hands on his hips. “You’re very stubborn.” He didn’t turn around.
Fallon looked around. There was no one else in the room with them, so he had to be talking to her. A smile lifted the corner of her mouth, part relief that he had acknowledged her, but more in the fact that she had held out. “Stubborn is what I do best.”
His head lowered and a small chuckle escaped. “I strongly suspect that we are better suited than I thought.”
Fallon felt a small rush of elation. He thought they suited. Then her heart clenched. Sobehk ... She closed her eyes and turned her face away. Good-bye was coming. She took a breath and shook her head. Good-bye always came. It was just the way it was. She should be used to it by now.
“What is it?”
Fallon opened her eyes. Khan was at her side, less than a hand-length away. His hands were still on his hips. She hadn’t heard him walk over. She took a shallow breath and yet the scent of his skin reached her. She turned to face him, but crossed her arms and dug her fingers into her upper arms to keep from reaching for him.
What should she say?
How about the truth? That was usually unexpected.
She looked up into his copper gaze. “You’re taking me from Sobehk.”
His eyes widened just a hair then his mouth set in a firm line. “I took you from Sobehk, last night.”
She flinched. The truth cut both ways.
Khan sighed. “Isabeau, it’s better this way. Believe me. He couldn’t have handled you. You’re too much for him.” He turned to the side and swept a hand across his jaw. “I don’t think he has any real idea what you’re actually capable of.”
Fallon felt a spurt of anger. “And you do?”
Khan snorted then shook his head. “According to his report, you’re a talented acrobat, a damned fine fighter, and quite a successful escape artist. You’re listed as a thief.” He turned to look at her. “But according to your personal data your real talents are not physical, they’re mental. Just from the style of your personal programs, it’s very obvious that you’re one of the finest programming architects I’ve seen in a long time. You are definitely a thief, but not for objects -- for information. You could make or break just about any code out there.”
Fallon frowned, unsure how she felt about him knowing this. That he was impressed was obvious and ... satisfying in a strange way, but it was also really unnerving to have someone know so much.
Khan raised a brow. “You also have one of the most sophisticated translation programs I’ve ever seen.” He tilted his head to the side. “Most Imperial translators cannot grasp Skeldhi at all, and yet you seem to have quite a vocabulary and grammar list.”
Fallon shrugged. “It’s a context translator.”
Khan shook his head. “But you’ve only been hearing Skeldhi for the past two days.” He grinned. “Would you make me a copy of that program?”
Fallon felt the smile creep onto her face. “Sure, I can do that.”
Khan folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on his heels. “You’ve been stealing data from landed ships. Yes?”
Fallon hunched her shoulders and her smile disappeared. He was an investigations agent; how had she forgotten? “Everybody stole something on Dyson’s. I took ship secrets. It was how I made a living.”
Khan nodded. “Yes, but you’ve been stealing it from within the ship. You’ve actually been breaking into the ships and then leaving without detection.”
Fallon shrugged. “Most of the really valuable data is hidden within the ship’s sentience. The trick is not to disturb the sentience.”
His gaze sharpened. “According to that data ...” He pointed at the holographic display up on the wall. “The only reason you are still on this ship is because y
ou were unconscious when it left the station.”
Fallon looked away from the incomprehensible display toward the distant, invisible door. He was half right. “I don’t have my tools. I’d have to make new ones before I could break out.”
“But you could do it, even from this ship.”
She nodded. It wouldn’t be difficult either; a simple matter of getting into their supply hold and digging around for appropriate parts to make new taps. The real key to getting into and out of ships was in her programming codes.
“Isabeau.” Khan sighed deeply. “Sobehk would never understand you or your talents like I do. As his rehkyt , you’d only be someone that warmed his bed. I’m a Mehdjay ’syr, a lord-officer of Security and Intelligence, a minister of investigations. A rehkyt with your talents is more valuable to me than just someone to fuck.”
Fallon jerked back as though struck.
Khan walked past her and stepped into the facility.
She listened as the water went on then walked over to the facility’s doorway and sat down against the wall beside it. She pressed her cheek against her upraised knees and tried not to think or feel anything at all.
And failed miserably.
Sobehk. She closed her eyes and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Sobehk didn’t know her. Not really. But then, very few people ever had. Her boss had some grasp of what she was capable of, but even he had no idea how she did what she did. He only knew that if he wanted something she could get it, and that she was near impossible to catch or stop.
But Khan knew her. It felt strange to be understood, to be accepted, even appreciated. But she didn’t like him. Part of her wanted him, desperately. It was hard to admit, but there was no denying that something in her craved him. But the rest of her was scared shitless of him, and with damned good reason. He knew her. He could destroy her in ways that went beyond a few broken bones.
She sniffed and rubbed her damp cheek on her knee. Khan didn’t seem inclined to cripple her like that; in fact, he seemed more likely to actually let her use her talents ... But that could change. And she’d never see it coming.
He knew her -- but she didn’t know him at all. And her life was in his hands.
She tightened her arms around her knees and shivered hard.
“Isabeau!”
Fallon jerked upright. What in fury? She leaned over to look in the doorway. Water splashed against the glass door. He was in the shower. “What?”
“Get your ass in here!”
Chapter Fourteen
Fallon got up and stepped into the facility. She jerked the sliding glass door open. Steam curled out along the ceiling. She stuck her head in.
Khan stood under the water with his head down and his hands braced against either wall. The shower stall was that small. His hair was still in its tight braid, but he was clean. Even the scratches on his back and flanks were practically gone. The blue tattoo on his muscular back was brilliant under the shower light. She could smell nothing but water and soap.
Khan raised his head and his copper gaze, reflected in the wall before him, caught hers. Tension sang in his body. “Come here.”
She stepped into the shower and closed the door. Water splashed onto her as she approached. Her neck hairs rose.
He turned with blinding speed, caught her by the upper arms and slammed her against the back wall.
She gasped in surprise; he was fucking fast!
His mouth came down on her open mouth as he pressed the entire hard length of his body against hers. His cocks were urgently rigid against her belly. He growled and kissed her, taking her mouth as though starved, and with ruthless skill.
Fallon’s nipples rose to hot, tight points and her belly clenched with sudden hunger. She moaned into his mouth and grabbed his forearms, digging in with her long nails.
He pulled his mouth from hers and his eyes blazed with heat. “You are better at resisting than I.” He reached down to catch her thighs, lifting her against the wall. “You would think I would have more control than a newborn Prime.” He pressed her against the wall with his body as he reached down to set his pierced cock against the entrance to her body. He snorted and a small smile appeared. “Ah, not quite so resistant, after all. You’re wet.” He grunted and thrust.
Fallon gasped as the unforgiving metal bar at the end of his cock pressed into her snug channel. All too soon his second pierced cock was an insistent pressure against her anus. She grabbed him around the shoulders and groaned, pressing outward to let him in. He’d rubbed something on to make his second cock slick, but the bar still jammed against the ring of her anus. She writhed in discomfort. The pressure increased. She whimpered and arched. The bar passed within. She sighed as it slid deeper.
He grunted and thrust further in, the ridges of metal balls under the skin of his cocks scraping against tender flesh.
She bucked hard and sheathed him, all the way to the root. It hurt and yet the pain shoved all the aching in her heart out, making room for her body’s pleasure.
He sighed against her right ear. “Mother Night, I don’t know how in Chaos you held out. I was going insane.”
Fallon locked her legs around his hips and writhed against him, feeling his rigid and pierced cocks moving in her depths. “You?” She moaned with the agonizing delight of having him within her. “I thought I was the one with the ...” She panted. “The impression?”
He chuckled. “Impression goes both ways, master to rehkyt ,rehkyt to master. My body wants yours as much as your body wants mine.” His hands closed tight on her thighs and his nails dug in. “And I really want to fuck you right now.” He pressed his head against the wall. “Bite me, on the shoulder, hard and fast.”
She stilled in shock. It went both ways? He wanted her?
“Bite me, damn it!”
She bared her long teeth and sank them into his shoulder.
He gasped and shuddered, then sighed. “Mmm ... yes.”
Her eyes caught their reflection on the far side of the stall. His long muscular body with her legs wrapped around his hips, one of her arms around his shoulder, and the other gripping his upper arm. A thin line of blood slid down his back from where her teeth pierced him. She pulled her fangs from his shoulder and watched her reflection licking the blood from the wounds she’d made.
He pressed her hard against the wall and his hand came up to grab a handful of her hair. He tugged her head to the left.
Fallon watched his mouth open in the wall’s reflection. His teeth gleamed white and then his head fell, lightning fast.
Fire exploded in her shoulder. She shouted and bucked forward, her nails slicing into his back.
He sucked on the wounds, growling, then released her shoulder, licking his lips. His hands reached down to cup her butt, his nails digging in. He slid outward, the bars at the ends of his cocks keeping him from slipping completely free. He thrust back in brutally hard then again, and again ...
She bucked in his arms, moaning and straining to meet his pounding rhythm. Her gaze was trapped by the reflection of his straining body fucking hers. Every muscle in his back, ass, and thighs flexed as he took her with desperate violence against the wall of the shower. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
Pleasure sparked with incredible speed and coiled tight with boiling fury in her core. She dug her nails into his back as the scream built in her throat. She could see the blood running down his back from her nails. Slender but bright threads of blood slid down his thighs. It was hers, from where his nails dug into her ass. The sight inflamed her further. Her gasps became cries as pressure and need rose to the explosion point.
His grunts became gasps. “Yes, Chaos, you’re going to cum ... Yes!”
She writhed as her body came to the razor’s edge -- and refused to fall. Damn it. She moaned in frustration. “Oh, please ...”
“Please what?”
“Please!” She shouted and bucked hard. “I need it!”
He groaned, but the amusement w
as clear in the sound. “What do you need, pet?”
“Please!” She shuddered, tormented by the pleasure she couldn’t reach. “Bite me again!”
His hands came up and closed on her upper arms. He pressed her back against the wall. Her thighs held him tight as he stepped back and stared her in the eye. Possessive heat flared in his gaze. “You need me.” His lip curled, showing his long teeth. “You need me. Say it!”
Fallon shuddered on the edge of a chasm that was deeper than merely sex. Terror raised every hair on her body.
“You need me! ” His eyes were burning pits as he shouted in her face. “Say it!”
She cried out and burst into tears. She didn’t like him, but she did need him. She dug her claws into his arms as she fought against it, but the need for him burned in her heart as well as in her body.
Something like agony raced across his expression. “Say it, damn you! Say it! ”
“Yes, you bastard!” she screamed and collapsed, gasping for breath as the tears ran down her cheeks. She just couldn’t fight it anymore. “Yes. I need you.”
He expelled a long breath and set his brow against hers. “Bloody Chaos, you stubborn little bitch.” His voice was heavy with exhaustion. He took a long slow breath. “Say it again.”
She exhaled and sniffed, hanging limp in his embrace. “I need you.”
He sighed. “Who do you belong to, rehkyt? ”
She closed her eyes and shuddered, but she was too tired to bother fighting it. “You.”
“That’s ‘you, ‘Syr .’ Say it.”
‘Syr, according to her translator, meant “master.” He was telling her to acknowledge him as her rightful master. Her rightful owner. She moaned, but didn’t put any real effort into it. “Do I actually have to call you that?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Bastard.”
He snorted. “That was not what I said.”
She sighed. “You, ‘Syr .”
He groaned. “You really do need a beating.”
“Everybody says that.” Her chuckle bubbled up unexpectedly.
“Then it must be true.” He chuckled, too. “And that’s ‘everybody says that, ‘Syr .’”