BEAST HORDE TRILOGY BOXSET: MFM SciFi Romance

by Cari Silverwood

  A taunt that far surpassed her own. The silence ripened.

  Despite her exhaustion a smile broke across her lips.

  Vargr barked out a laugh. “Dream on. I’ll fuck her. One day, when it’s my goddamned decision. This murderous girl is not governing me.”

  As his fingers loosened in her hair, she considered her next words which were going to be atrocious, but she licked her lips and said them anyway. “If I had a gun now, I’d shoot you again.”

  Bad me, bad me, her brain screamed at her.

  He leaned down until nose to nose with Cyn. “Now you went and ruined it.”

  Then he stood and dumped her off his lap onto her hands and knees. “See you out there, Rutger.”

  As the sound of his footsteps dwindled, Rutger groaned. He tucked away his cock, zipped up.

  She shifted onto her butt and sat leaning against the car remains. “Bad? No, I know I was.” She pouted.

  “Why? What the fuck, Cyn. Any other words would’ve been better.”

  “I know. He just… is being an ass, though I get why.” She did, very much so. With her elbows on her knees she stuck her fingers into her hair, and she peered up at Rutger. “But I don’t know how to fix it. Yes, I shot him. I don’t even remember it very well. Really, I don’t. He’s right, maybe I did see him as nothing?”

  After a sigh, Rutger sat beside her and hugged her to him, warming both her body and her heart. This was what Vargr used to do.

  She blinked sadly at the opposite junk wall.

  “That you are bothered by that is good. We both know killing a Ghoul Lord is worth doing, so we are just going to have to hone your methods. Yes?” He kissed the top of her head. “I said I would interrogate you on this, didn’t I? Willow is waiting, but we can talk a bit longer. Without going all gestapo on you, tell me more. You didn’t see Tom or Vargr?”

  She shook her head. “No. Or not as who they are. It was over fast, and all I really remember seeing was a whole lot of people and him, the Thing, the Ghoul Lord in a skin suit.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I want to find out who I am,” she added softly, still staring unfocused at the wall of squashed-together vehicles. “But what if what I am is not something I can bear?”

  He gathered her even closer, until she was so tightly held she could barely breathe. “It’s what most of us fear, I think, deep down. All we can do is soldier on. Even before the invasion people worried about shit they couldn’t control. It wasn’t good then and isn’t now. You are a good person at heart, Cyn. I am sure of that.”

  Words, more words, though she did feel an easing of her worries.

  “Just try to stop reminding Vargr of your errors. I almost had him back with us.”

  She sighed then patted his hand. “Let’s return.” Cleaning up was going to be a bitch. She rose and began picking up her clothes. The bra was a write-off… She frowned at Rutger.

  He shrugged then stripped off his shirt and unhooked a water canteen from his waist. “Use it to clean up.”

  “Thanks.” Though the amount of come he produced was more than average. If only men could make it vanish afterward.

  Next time, she must bring a change of clothes and fuck next to a working shower? She turned the canteen over in her hands, unscrewed the lid, then chose to tip water onto the defunct bra and not his shirt. “You know Vargr saw red wings on me? Yet I don’t see how that can be.”

  “No. Me neither. That also worries you? If it happens again, think on it. Besides, what would it matter? Wings are generally a good thing except when people forget they have them and get them caught on doorways.”

  “I don’t know. It just does.”

  She left the topic there, unable to say why it was niggling her. Rutger was right. This world was full of uncertainties. Worry when things landed in your lap, not before.

  Chapter 10

  Vargr watched as Rutger fell into step with him. The end of the bridge was coming up, with the three rockmen leading the way. He ignored the horned beaster. If Rutger wanted to talk, he’d talk, but he’d not volunteer.

  They strode at the tail end of the convoy of people. Road-trip Band, he’d heard someone say Cyn had dubbed them. His lips curved into an almost smile. She was impossible to ignore and always would be unless someone figured out how to break the mating bond.

  Lithe, tall for a girl, swinging mane of catacomb-dark hair, twinkly red eyes, that gorgeous butt, those curves, and her smart mouth—that used to make him grin at her daring. On her own, Cyn was enough to trigger a disaster. And then too she was deadly. Which was what had plonked her into trouble.

  Not with everyone here, just him. The others had put her killings aside, somehow.

  Vargr scratched at his neck trying to reach where his wings connected to his back but couldn’t… quite. Fuckin’ things. They weren’t that useful indoors anyway.

  A few new rocklike skin bumps on his shoulder reinforced his idea that he was still changing, only slowly, unlike her.

  He preferred to stay near the back away from Cyn. Locke was here too. The sandy-haired, bearded weaponsmith was terribly dedicated to Maura, and he thought he recognized the signs of a stricken man. Locke and Maura had talked the tongues off each other at the picnic at Parklands. He’d seen them kissing too, and was surprised Locke hadn’t persuaded her to go further and done the whole bondmating thing.

  They made a pretty pair to his eyes, though Locke was shorter than Maura. The blue squiggly beaster markings that down his arm were like pointers to where the two of them clasped hands.

  And yet currently, she was a drooling mute—an intelligent woman rendered a zombie-type by the Lure, and he just knew Locke was mulling over a dilemma. Make her his without being able to ask her if it was okay, or not?

  He couldn’t help Locke much. It was too personal a decision.

  Cyn had stirred up feelings in him too. Kinda sorta love feelings, and all that had happened in very few days. He scowled. Way too premature, and he’d been like a schoolboy with a first crush.

  Besides, it wasn’t love on her side.

  “Well?” Rutger nudged up an eyebrow. “Are you going to talk about it or not?”

  “And if I say not?”

  “Ummm.”

  “She said it again. That she’d fuckin’ shoot me.”

  “I heard.”

  “You just don’t shoot your lovers. It’s unethical.”

  “I know. Immoral, illegal, lots of naughty things.”

  “Shut up, Rutger.” He spotted a grin on the beaster. Shit.

  “Can I just ask, what did you actually see that day? Because I have not heard all the evidence.”

  He wouldn’t have. Willow, Mads, and the other judge had done the interviews in private.

  “What did I see? I saw her leap and jump off a beaster or two and then in mid-air she gunned down Tom. The aim was straight through his head as if he was not there. It went on to hit the Ghoul Lord’s head. Her next shot went through my arm.”

  “Tragic, undeniably so. I liked Tom. We all did. You healed okay?” He glanced at Vargr’s shoulder.

  “I did. I’m not like you or her, but I healed okay. Yes.” Faster than a human would. He screwed his mouth up at the corner. “I do not understand why she did it that way when she could’ve waited and missed us.”

  “Maybe she couldn’t have? Maybe it was the only way? Have you thought of that? If you had one chance to take out a Ghoul Lord, would you do it no matter what?”

  He would’ve waited. Pretty sure. He tried to rewind to that moment. “Hypothetical… I think, I think really what bugs the crap outta me is that she had this blank look on her face, as if I was nothing.”

  Rutger walked alongside for a while, quiet and clearly thinking. “Maybe you’re right. I know she does now regret what she did to you. But also maybe it’s part and parcel of whatever her nanomachines are doing to her. And you know that’s us too. We don’t control all of this.”

  He sniffed loudly, tapping his
hands on the butts of the two handguns he now wore, having found a match for the other. Bessie and Clank, he’d decided to call them for no particular reason. And he really should ask Kiko for an augmented gun… like the one he’d once bought Cyn.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure that is enough for me.”

  “Okay. Promise me you’ll try to discuss this with her, soon?” Then he waited until Vargr nodded. Rutger smacked his shoulder. “Just remember big dildo and ass fucking. You’ll be missing out.”

  “Thanks. Not.” He gave him side-eye. “You chose a good time for that. I looked through the bridge windows and figured out why this is called the Adult Quarter, figured out they were rather… circumspect in their name choice. There are sex shop ads galore hanging off the edge.”

  “Fuck. No,” Rutger said in awe. “Nooo? Really?”

  “Yeah. This should’ve been the Porn Quarter.”

  Locke wandered closer while Rutger was still digesting that. He had Maura in tow with a waist rope. One thing he’d noted at Worshipper Quarter was the lack of obvious humans. Not that they were common anywhere except up Top. According to Cyn’s recent observations, there might be still millions left alive. Might.

  If only they could figure out a way to free them, but to do that, the Ghoul Lords would have to be gone. Which, he reminded himself, was why they were doing this trip. Not just to feed Cyn’s ego, or discover her past, no, it was to find a weapon they could adapt, create, grow. Whatever. Anything. Find something to help his sister.

  Who is likely dead.

  He felt the sting of almost-tears. After so long… still couldn’t help it.

  Locke looked over, interrupting his mushy thoughts.

  “I need some advice. Guess you know why.” He glanced at an oblivious Maura. “Should I do it? I was only talking to her days ago. She likes me but hell, this bothers me.”

  “Bothers us all,” Rutger said from the other side of Vargr. “Would worry me if it didn’t bother you.”

  “Yeah.” Locke sighed and played with the rope. “My argument is she would rather be alive and thinking then be this.” His mouth had sunken into the worst of glumness.

  “Yeah.” He reached over to grasp Locke’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you the exact answer, but you hit the nail on the head. Bondmating is probably the best solution.”

  “I think I made my own argument. I just wish Cyn could still help her.”

  He grunted. “Sure.”

  “She’s been trying. She told me so, but it isn’t working anymore, just gives her migraines. She’s even forgetting things and thinks that’s linked.”

  How could that be? Vargr stared at her and wondered at how callous he might be, dismissing this woman who was trying her hardest to help Maura, even though it harmed her.

  “I thought nothing could damage her,” he said quietly.

  “What?” Rutger looked puzzled. “It’s not harm. Not permanent. Even she has to heal damage anyway. So she feels pain.”

  “Yeah. Guess so.”

  Something concerned him about this. Had killing the Ghoul Lord truly done that to her? If so, how? Or was it a side-effect of the nanites altering her?

  Willow might know.

  “We should get Willow to check her over.”

  Locke muttered a yes but walked away, taking Maura with him. They all had their own concerns, and Maura was his. Vargr sighed. And Cyn should not be his, should she?

  The bondmating wasn’t going away. Every time he saw the sway of her ass…

  “I’m going to go ask Willow now.”

  “Excellent idea,” Rutger said, following him. The damn grin on the beaster said it all. He knew.

  “Shut up. Not one word.”

  “None. Not a one.” He splayed out his hands in innocence. But he still smiled.

  Chapter 11

  Day two in the Adult Quarter, or the Porn Quarter, as Rutger had laughing told her. The limp had finally made Cyn decide to say yes to Willow examining her. And also Vincent’s words.

  She smiled at him as she rubbed the side of her aching left leg. They’d only just set off again after breaking camp, and she and Vincent had been walking alongside each other, though not saying much more than hi to each other until now.

  “You really think I should get it checked out?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, gravely, with that immense head of his bobbing so outrageously she half expected it to snap at the neck. If he had a neck. The beaster rockman was a blob of irregular proportions rather than man shaped. At least Lennox and Neo had hair. “I used to be a nurse, and that limp seems a problem. I’m told we have a long way to go.”

  “Mmm.” She straightened. Others were passing them. Willow had already asked her if she needed any help. Vargr had apparently suggested she look at Cyn and that had made her, purely on reflex, say no. He wasn’t her keeper.

  “Rumor has it you heal anything, so why not this?” He gestured at her leg.

  “Everything still hurts for a while. Punch me, and I hurt. I guess I’ll see if she wants to do it.”

  And of course when she went to jog up to the front of the convoy, her leg gave way, and pain shot up it. “Fuck.” She muttered a few quieter curses, massaged her leg again, then set off limping.

  “Stay there.” Vincent barreled past her, his billowing red satin robe making him resemble a sumo wrestler with a skin problem. She prayed he wore underwear beneath that.

  Cyn struggled onward, limping, and the pain did seem to be lessening. A few minutes later, Vincent returned.

  “She says tonight, unless you can’t walk at all, or keep up?” Lips pursed, he eyed her. “Well? I’d offer to check you out, but these digits don’t feel crap nowadays.” He waggled the brown stumps.

  “It’s improving.” Though she couldn’t help gingerly testing it. Cyn grimaced as she put weight on her foot. “I swear it is. Thanks for the help.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stayed with her and looked attentive, making her wonder if he planned to catch her if she fell over.

  No shoes, a red kimono, lumpy skin, and he was a lovely man or rather beaster. What counted was what was inside. Why on earth did the Adult tribe hate him and the other two?

  Rutger had gone off scouting and scavenging with Vargr. The two of them were still buddies. She wasn’t sure if that miffed her or made her want to be with them.

  With them, of course. She should stop denying it. She was pining for them, but surely it was all due to those bondmating chemicals?

  So,” she said, distracting herself from her leg and other miseries. “How did you get into the Nietz experiment? If you don’t mind saying? I’m curious but also have no idea how I got into it. Or into Maelstrom, which is not quite the same.”

  “Maelstrom?” He stopped and looked at her. “I had heard you were different, of course, but not that name. Do you have a tattoo, here?” He put his hand to the back of his neck. “Neo and Lennox have one like me. It says Maelstrom.”

  Speechless, she could only look at Vincent for a while. The implications from that had struck her instantly.

  “You do then? From the way you’re staring, I’d say it is a yes.”

  “Yes, I do have one there. Cannot recall when or how I got it.”

  “Well. It was done while we were anesthetized, so no doubt that would be you too.” The floor here was covered in pieces of glass, and Vincent had no shoes yet he kept going, oblivious. No blood showed in his tracks.

  “Not really consensual tattooing then.”

  “No.”

  “Hmmm. My limp’s almost gone.”

  Luckily, because they’d reached a spiral set of stairs and already the point wing-soldier was descending. Going down, again. So far, they’d lost about twelve stories. According to Willow, ground level was the goal, before they reached the Rad Zone. She was worried about radiation, but they planned to go in cautiously and stick to the outer edge.

  Like everywhere in this apocalyptic world, the floor was strewn with lost items from the time
when humans ruled. She often wondered what had happened to the owners of such items. Purses, cellphones, playing cards, orphaned shoes, dust, and a skeletal foot with skin shreds sticking to it.

  That last owner, she imagined them toiling upward, sucked by the Lure, despite their missing foot. Stains on the concrete stairs might have been their blood. What a cheerful day she was having.

  She looked up. “What did you say, Vincent?”

  “You okay here? Need help?” Vincent hesitated as he offered his hand, and she saw an expectation of rejection in his eyes. As if most wouldn’t touch him. How would it be to change as he had?

  She feared this was her future. He too was Maelstrom and that part of the great experiment seemed to have pushed people to the limits, or past them.

  “Thank you.” She could walk okay now, but she took his hand. His skin was hard and felt as chalky as it looked, covered in fine grit that shed onto her hand. The beaster was a head taller than her but far wider. The steps made crunching sounds under his bare feet, and he left a track of brown smears of chalk.

  With the handholding it felt as if they were a bridal couple in some quirky quasi-horror descending to their doom. She smiled and decided she really liked Vincent.

  They were five stories down before they again headed horizontal, along another shopping district with avenues wide enough for buses. Vincent had aided her most of the way without any complaint.

  “What has Maelstrom gifted you with?” She’d finally grown the courage to ask.

  “Gifted?” His whole face twisted. “With ugliness, according to some.” He shook his head when she protested. “I did say yes to it, signed a contract, believe it or not even though we were staring at extinction. We thought it would save the world. I have no regrets really. I am alive, and that’s by itself a wonderful situation. Okay, what else? Not much scratches our skin. We are very strong, as you could see from our car barrier. The Lure does not affect us at all.”