Indulgence (99 page)

Rage opened his mouth as though to protest, then closed it
once more.

She’d watched the recordings. He thrived in the combat zone.
“But they will be battles you believe in, causes that you’re passionate about.”
She petted his pecs, his abs, and his muscles rippled under her palms. “You’ll
find a female who serves you as well as I do.” She blinked back her shameful
tears, sadness welling within her. “How could she not serve you? You’re
magnificent.” And she was fortunate to know him.

“You’re my female.” His voice was gruff. “I only have one
cock. I don’t need any being other than you.”

“I--”

“Kneel.”

Joan sank to the floor, obeying him, and looked up at his
blunt, scarred countenance. He gazed down at her, pride gleaming in his eyes.

When he didn’t return, she’d die. Either the other engineers
would launch that unified attack Denny warned her about or Commander Lewis
would reprimand her for losing her cyborg, send her to the front lines to be
slaughtered by the Mantidae.

All she had was this moment.

They stared at each other, a lifespan of meaning flowing
between them. He cared for her and she cared for him, more than she’d ever
cared for another being. They didn’t have to say the words. Their emotions
filled the air, heavy, poignant, real.

Rage reached out, traced the curve of her cheek, outlining
her lips with his fingertips, his touch gentle, almost loving. Her eyelashes
fluttered. He learned her face, smoothing her eyebrows, brushing back her
curls.

It was a sweet unexpected gesture from her rough warrior cyborg,
one she’d hold in her heart forever.

“You’ll stay in our chambers while I’m gone.”

She didn’t answer. That was one order she couldn’t obey. He
was never returning and she couldn’t do everything she could to ensure his
escape was a success from their chambers.

“Joan,” he growled.

Would it give him peace to believe her safe in their
chambers? “I’ll leave our chambers only when it is necessary, sir.” She
wouldn’t lie to him.

He narrowed his eyes, his black eyebrows lowering,
accentuating the primitiveness of his countenance. “You won’t take foolish
risks.”

“I won’t, sir.” That, she could assure him. The longer she
stayed alive, the more help she could give him.

“You’re a survivor.”

“You are too, sir.” She smiled up at him. In this way, they
were the same. “Should I bring you your armor?”

“Not now.” Rage didn’t look away from her, continuing to
touch her face.

They neared the time for deployment. Her cyborg didn’t like
delays. Yet, this planet rotation, he wasn’t concerned.

Because this would be the last time they spent together and
he didn’t want it to end. Her heart warmed.

Joan remained still, kneeling before him. Cyborg and human,
warrior and engineer, male and female, different yet one. Their breaths were in
sync, their gazes locked.

“You’re silent, female.”

“I can’t express what I’m feeling, sir.” Her voice was
hoarse.

“That’s a first.” His lips curled into a rare smile and her
breath hitched. “Bring me my armor. Quickly.”

She jumped to her feet, legs aching, and rushed to the wall
panel. He followed, lessening the distance she’d have to heave the heavy body
armor.

As she dressed him, she babbled, spewing the nonsense he
often accused her of sharing, seeking to calm her nerves, control her sadness,
fill the quiet. Rage answered her questions with grunts and short sentences.

He filled his sheaths with weapons, slung long guns over his
shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you take all of them, sir?” She gazed at the
daggers and guns remaining in the wall panel.

“That would arouse suspicion.” He adjusted one of the straps.
“I carry what I normally carry and that’s all.”

That was smart. She nodded. “Then may I use one or two of
your daggers?” He wouldn’t need them.

“Did you lose yours?” He selected two, handed them to her.

She clasped them, the metal cool against her palms. “I used
my dagger this planet rotation and was unable to retrieve it.”

“Because he lived.” Rage shook his head. “Strike to kill,
female. A wounded enemy always seeks revenge.”

She’d been lucky to escape with her life. Joan dipped her
head.

“Dress,” he commanded.

She obeyed, quickly donning her flight suit, placing the
daggers in the pockets. He plucked at her lapels, straightening them. He’d
never helped her dress in the past. It was as though he couldn’t stop himself
from touching her.

That lightened Joan’s spirits. She slipped her feet into her
boots, fastened them.

Rage turned his head. “That human male is here.” He had less
respect for Boyd than she did.

Their time together was over. “Sir.” She stepped toward him,
pressing her curves into his armor-covered muscle. “Could you kiss me one last
time?” She was too short to reach his mouth and the elevation platform was too
far away to use.

“One more time,” he corrected, his eyes flashing with heated
emotion, his face hardening. “Your kisses are mine and mine alone, Joan.” He
swooped down to capture her lips. The force of his embrace drove her head back.
He cradled her skull, holding her in place.

Joan plunged her tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste
him. He countered, pushing her backward, taking control, whipping her with his
tongue, punishing her. She submitted to his aggression, allowing herself to be
disciplined, her lips humming, her arousal building.

She wanted him again, always, and she didn’t know how she’d
live without him.
If
she would live. She doubted she’d survive for long
after his escape.

Joan clung to Rage’s shoulders. He straightened, lifting her
off the floor. Her feet dangled. Her breasts were flattened against his chest.
Her mouth was filled with his nanocybotics, with his unique flavor.

“Fraggin’ hole.” He pulled his head back. “You’ll get us
both decommissioned, female.” He slid her down, over his hard form, until her
boots touched the floor. “You will act as normally as possible.” He ran his
palms over her hair. “We can’t arouse suspicion.”

She touched her lips, still feeling him inside her. “Yes,
sir.”

The look Rage gave her said he didn’t believe her. “Go.” He
turned her, slapped her ass. A sexy heat radiated from the point of impact. “He
waits.”

Joan marched toward the inner door, placed her hand on the
access panel. The metal slid apart, revealing Boyd’s smirking face. She
swallowed her disgust, stepped forward. “Boyd.”

“Tits.” He leered at her chest. “Are you looking forward to
this repositioning? I certainly am.” He grabbed his groin.

Rage pressed his chest against her back, growling softly.

Joan reached behind her and patted his thigh in a stealthy
attempt to calm her overprotective cyborg. “I’m focused on this deployment.”
She authorized the access panel. The exterior door opened and she strode out of
their chambers, not looking back. Rage followed her. Boyd trailed him,
muttering about payback and how she’d get what was coming to her.

The guard didn’t care if others heard his threats.

Because the others were on his side. He had their support,
the whole damn ship’s backing. Commander Lewis approved her harassment as he
had approved the torture of the cyborgs under his care.

Joan lifted her chin, not allowing her shipmates to see her
fear. They might think her a slut, unintelligent and antisocial, but no being
could say that the battle station’s first and last female cybernetic engineer
lacked bravery.

They accessed door after door. Engineers, cyborgs, and their
guards filed in front of her. This close, the cyborgs should be able to communicate
with each other, using silent secured transmissions designed to coordinate
attacks.

In the field, they could communicate across the length of a
small planet, but on the station, that ability had been intentionally hampered.
The Humanoid Alliance didn’t want the cyborgs to talk while they weren’t
fighting.

Joan led Rage and Boyd across the docking bay. She ignored
the snide comments of the other engineers and guards, the blank looks of the
cyborgs, and concentrated on formulating a plan.

If she neutralized the blocking mechanisms, it might help
all of the cyborgs to escape, to follow Rage into freedom.

The location of the mechanisms was a closely guarded secret.
The average cybernetic engineer wasn’t informed of where they were situated.
The average waste processing engineer thought the mechanisms placed in the
support system tunnels cleaned the air.

She’d realized what they truly did and had diverted herself
during shit patrol by finding all of them.

She had her gray flight suits, the uniform of a waste
processing engineer. She doubted that her access to the tunnels had been
removed. No one would ever think that a being with her higher status would
reenter that smelly world.

Crash and Gap, Rage’s friends, waited with their guards and
engineers by their ship. She met Crash’s gaze and nodded. His unnaturally black
eyes remained void of emotion, his blank expression not changing.

She turned to her cyborg, took his wrists, pressed the
release buttons, allowing him to depart the battle station for the last time,
to board his ship, to leave her forever. “Be careful, sir.”

She gazed up at him, showing him all of her emotions, not
caring who else saw. They knew she was fucking her cyborg. What did it matter
if they knew she had feelings for him also?

Rage gave her the expected blank look, didn’t say anything
more. She watched him as he stomped up the ramp, wishing she could say goodbye,
that she could kiss him one more time, feel his arms around her.

That wasn’t possible. It had to appear like a normal deployment,
one of hundreds, nothing unusual. Joan hid her breaking heart under a fake
smile, joined a group of engineers, and returned to the chambers she once
shared with her cyborg.

He wouldn’t be returning. She drifted around the space,
touching pieces of broken armor she’d replaced, the horizontal support where
he’d held her, his body warm against hers, the guns with triggers calibrated to
his fingers only. His scent hung in the air. His nanocybotics bubbled inside
her, repairing aging cells and other damage that came from simply living.

A tear trickled down her cheek. It was a foolish reaction.
She wiped the wetness away. She hadn’t cried since her family was killed in the
agri lot attack. That had been a horrific moment, the grief overwhelming.

This moment should be a happy one. The cyborg she cared for,
might even love, was safe, free. He’d exist for many more human lifespans, find
his version of peace, fighting battles, breeding with lucky females. She hugged
her stomach, her pain intensifying.

Pull it together, Joan
, she chastised herself.
You
don’t have time to wallow in wishes or what-might-have-beens. Rage and his
friends are counting on you.

She’d deactivate the blocking mechanisms. That should be
easy to do. A dagger through their circuits should render them inoperable.

Then what?

She chewed on her bottom lip. A distraction would divert
focus from the cyborgs.

She rummaged through the wall panels, searching for
materials. There were odds and ends of mechanics, enough to create dozens of
small bombs. After the attack on the agri lot, she’d learned the basics of
quickly and efficiently defending a plot of terrain. A perimeter of bombs
slowed even the most aggressive attackers.

Where should she place them? She was already entering the
service tunnels to deactivate the blocking mechanisms. They ran though every
area of the battle station. She knew which tunnels led to where, could target
exactly where she wanted to the bombs to be. She could time them to explode
during the repositioning.

That would make a stinky diversion. Joan grinned, her
fingers flying over the mechanics. Commander Lewis would rue the planet
rotation he assigned her to shit patrol. His perfect battle station was about
to become a lot messier.

You’re happiest in battle.

Rage slid along the war-scorched ground, shooting, a gun in
each of his hands. That wasn’t true. He was happiest when he was with her.

But battle was a close second. He rolled, blasting a
Mantidae with a barrage of projectiles. The insect enemy’s head exploded, a
satisfying mess of blood and shell.

He didn’t know when he would next fight a foe face-to-face.
Dogfights in space required skill but didn’t give him the same satisfaction.
They didn’t siphon off his excess energy. He dodged a projectile and retaliated
with three of his own.

He should slow the battle, savor the experience.

He couldn’t. The sadness in his female’s eyes when she told
him to be careful flashed through his processors. She didn’t think he was
returning. He should have told her the plan, should have reassured her.

Rage downed the last Mantidae encroaching on his combined
territories and trekked back to the ship, kicking up ash as he walked. He was
angry. That wasn’t a new development. He was often angry, except this time, the
target of his rage was himself.

“You clear the areas faster with every deployment.” Crash
didn’t look up from the energy converter he was modifying.

Gap stripped a gun down to parts. “Did your female make more
improvements?”

“No.” Rage discarded his armor. “She sent this for you.” He
ripped the memory chip off his chest and tossed it to Crash. “The third
tracking device is positioned over the twelfth vertebrate. She recorded
instructions on how to remove it.”

“Do you trust her?” The cyborg turned the chip over in his
fingers. “Or should I perform a scan on this first? That might destroy some of
the data.”