Containing Malice, page 10
Her cyborg huffed.
She removed the explosive. It was larger than the one that had been inserted in her. More power was required to kill big C Model cyborgs than small human females.
“I’ve extracted it.” She handed him the explosive.
He took it from her, examined it.
She retrieved the cleaning cloth, tidied her patient. The blood had already stopped flowing down his neck. The wound was closing. Skin, a paler shade of gray than the rest, formed over it.
“You’re healing much faster than you have in the past.” That eased some of her guilt.
“The injections worked.” He set the explosive aside, caught her wrists, drew her to him. “Lift your chin.”
She complied and he curled his fingers over her nape, lowered her to lip-level. His tongue rasped over the site of her wound and she trembled, her need for him escalating once more.
“We’re not fucking.” She said that for both herself and for him. “I have to remove Valor’s explosive also.” It would devastate her cyborg if his friend was killed.
“I’m repairing you, not breeding with you.” Malice’s eyes glittered. “And you will remove my tracking devices before you tend to my brethren.”
He was extremely arrogant.
That appealed to her. She was tired of making all the decisions, of constantly weighing what was right against what was essential for survival, of overthinking every word and action.
Following his instructions was a break for her mind.
He licked under her chin again and again, covering her with more of his nanocybotics. They fizzed and danced upon her skin, made her feel excitingly alive and extremely aroused.
It must have impacted him also. His cock was hard. His eyes glowed bright with energy.
Stars. She wanted him. And she couldn’t have him. Not yet. “Malice—”
“Remove the tracking devices.” He released her and held out his arms.
They chattered as she extracted the two tracking devices from his arms and one from his simulated spine. She told him about Medic Febris, about the medics on her home planet, how they had sought to heal beings until their last moments, their bravery when facing Humanoid Alliance guns.
The enemy had chosen her to live, pulling her out of the group to be part of their horrific experiments. Resisting that decision would have led to her own death. She’d known that.
Yet she had considered telling them to go fuck themselves.
Her mentor must have seen that rebellion in her expression. Medic Anahit had grasped her hands and brusquely reminded her of her role, of her duty to the universe. She was to help as many as she could. She couldn’t do that if she was dead.
Illona couldn’t ignore that order, couldn’t deny the medic she admired, the being she wanted to emulate, anything the female asked of her. She sucked back her anger, concealed it under a serene façade, and went with the Humanoid Alliance.
Medic Anahit, her mentor, had died. Projectiles had riddled her form. She, one of the most brilliant medics Illona had ever met, had then been kicked to the side like she was refuse, like she meant nothing.
“I came here—” Illona flicked the cleaning cloth to refresh it, swiped it over Malice’s back. “—and I was forced to torture you. While they watched. As a reward, they experimented on me, injecting my beverages with stars knows what.”
“You endured that.” Her cyborg’s muscles rippled under the cloth. “Because you’re a strong female.”
That unexpected compliment warmed her. Her spine straightened.
“You did as your mentor instructed. You have helped others.” He touched the remote access chip in his nape. “Now, you belong to me and you will do as I instruct.”
She pressed her chest against his back and said nothing. If she was faced with obeying him or saving his and Valor’s lives, she would ignore his instructions.
“You’re a stubborn being.” He grasped her hands, linking his fingers with hers, that tender act belying his criticism of her.
She sighed, wishing she could stay with him. She couldn’t do that, couldn’t be selfish. “I have to remove Valor’s explosive.”
“That’s necessary.” Malice’s head dipped. “I’m linked to the Humanoid Alliance’s monitoring equipment. The hallways between this chamber and his are currently clear of beings.” He turned to face her. His expression was stern. “You’ll remove his explosive and tracking devices and return here. I’ll ensure the enemy doesn’t track your progress.”
“I’ll try to return to you.” She planned to reattach his friend’s arms and legs also.
“You will return to me.” Her cyborg covered her lips with his.
She granted him entrance and he plunged into her, fucking her mouth with his tongue, branding her with his metallic taste, his nanocybotics, his passion.
When the kiss broke, they both breathed heavily.
“You belong to me, Illona.” He bracketed her countenance with his big hands. “And you will obey me. If you don’t return to me, I’ll leave this chamber and hunt you down. I will be very angry with you and you will feel that anger in our breeding. Do you understand?”
Her pussy dripped. Stars. She wanted him. “I understand.”
Chapter Ten
Malice had access to the Humanoid Alliance’s monitoring equipment. He had seen the footage of Medic Febris’ last moments, couldn’t delete from his processors the prospect of his female facing the same fate. It tore at him, made him want to take illogical action…like binding her to his side, not allowing her to leave the chamber. Ever.
But that would place Valor, his friend, a fellow cyborg, in peril.
And there was no clear or immediate risk to Illona. There was nothing he could detect in his scans, in the Humanoid Alliance systems, anywhere, to justify increased caution.
He watched as she dressed in her bloodstained flight suit, stuck her small feet into her boots, donned her white jacket, restocking its pockets with medic supplies.
“You’re a skilled medic.” Emotion roughened his voice. “You will remove the explosive and tracking devices from Valor’s form quickly.”
“I will do my best.” She gazed up at him as she coiled her long black hair on top of her head, fastening that decadent softness in place. Her big brown eyes shone, gold specks glittering in their depths “Don’t get mushy on me, cyborg.” A small smile illuminated her beautiful face. “I’m your enemy, remember?”
“I process who you are to me.” He frowned at her. She was no longer his enemy. She was his female, his captive, his obsession. “I’m deactivating the monitoring equipment in the hallway and in Valor’s chamber.”
“I’m leaving.” She took a step toward the door.
The tension in his form increased.
His female stopped, turned around and ran back to him. “Give me another hit of your nanocybotics just in case.” She gripped his shoulders with her slender fingers, balanced on the toes of her boots, tilted her head back.
He strapped his arms around her waist, securing her to him, and captured those offered lips, tasting her sweetness. His nanocybotics already bubbled inside her, but he transferred more just in case, ravishing her mouth, imprinting himself on her flesh.
Need tugged at him, threatened to shatter his control. If that happened, he would never grant her permission to leave. And that would put Valor in danger.
He released her, stepped back. “Go.”
She stared at him. Her lush lips were plumped from his kiss. Her eyes glowed. “If something happens to me—”
“Nothing bad will happen to you.” He curled his fingers into tight fists.
“Promise me you will escape.” She looked at him as though she had no doubts he could manage that feat. “Be free.”
“I will escape.” He jutted his jaw. “And you will be my captive.” He wasn’t leaving without her.
She gave him another small smile, nodded, and moved toward the exit.
He opened the door for her remotely, stood motionless as she left him. It felt as though a part of himself was missing. Fraggin’ hole. He snorted. His processors were malfunctioning.
The medic is headed toward you. He warned Valor of Illona’s approach.
I process that. His brethren’s tone was dry. You’re transmitting everything.
Valor was transmitting everything also…which wasn’t much. His view consisted of the ceiling, the floor, the four walls. The E Model’s chamber was as devoid of life, as eerily silent as his own now was.
Needing to take action, to distract himself from his little human’s absence, Malice hid the explosives and the tracking devices behind the wall panels, positioning them as far as possible from the previously concealed scalpel. The explosives could be modified, used in their escape.
He paced around the perimeter of the chamber. His female would return to him.
They would touch, talk, breed.
Then he would be forced to release her again. She would resume her normal routine. He and Valor would remain in their assigned spaces, decreasing suspicion.
They would wait for Cadet and his crew to arrive before liberating themselves, killing the guards, other Humanoid Alliance beings, and capturing his medic. To do anything other than that would be to risk the enemy sending ships or World-enders to obliterate them.
Too much had been sacrificed to rush their plans now.
He walked faster. The delay stressed his processors. C Models were manufactured to fight. His design urged him to do that. Now. And the primitive part of him didn’t like that his female was out of his sight, that he couldn’t protect her, safeguard her from threats, from other beings.
She entered Valor’s chamber. His brethren relayed footage of her, transmitting images of her smiling face, streaming her constant chatter. She was well, wasn’t in danger.
Some of the strain within Malice’s physique eased.
He searched through the Humanoid Alliance systems, pinpointed the locations of the enemy’s weapons stashes, of his and Valor’s stored body armor, plotted their escape route. They would kill everyone, but the order of the deaths would be key to their success. They—
Two humans appeared on his lifeform scans. Neither of those beings were his female. She remained in Valor’s chamber, safe, out of danger.
The beings were approaching from the opposite direction.
Malice glanced at the wall panel where he’d hidden the laser scalpel. If the beings passed his chamber, headed toward Valor’s chamber, he would retrieve the makeshift weapon, ensure his female and his friend weren’t discovered.
The beings stopped in front of his chamber. The door opened, revealing Picton, the guard who had dared to damage Illona. Malice also glimpsed Bonin’s face in the hallway.
Fury swept over him.
They would both die. Soon. Painfully. He would exact retribution for the agony they’d delivered to his female, his friend, himself.
But he couldn’t kill them now. Malice scrubbed all evidence of his anger from his expression, leaving his countenance blank.
The door closed. Bonin remained outside the chamber.
Picton aimed a gun at him. The male looked around the space. “The medic is missing.” He curled his top lip. “I told Bonin and Nelson to stay away from the cyborg chambers, but did they listen? No.” The guard answered his own question. “Those idiots must have let that cold-hearted human go.” His gaze paused on the pool of blood by the door and then stopped again at the blood splattered around the sleeping support. “She hurt before she was freed. Severely. I’m glad for that.”
Picton would hurt. Severely. Before he died.
Malice would ensure he felt pain.
“Get on the sleeping support, machine.” The guard waved his gun.
It would require very little effort to disarm the male, to end his lifespan, to leave the chamber and join Illona and Valor. But that would bring their activities to the attention of the Humanoid Alliance.
The enemy would take action sooner than they otherwise would. They would send their ships, their warriors, to kill them.
Allowing himself to be stunned, tortured, wouldn’t raise the Humanoid Alliance’s suspicions. It would give them more time, a better probability of liberation.
The humans watching them through the monitoring equipment expected him to obey the guard’s commands. Compliance was his normal response, a tactic he’d utilized in the past to shield Valor and himself from decommissioning.
This planet rotation, he’d utilize it to protect all the beings he cared for.
Malice suppressed his rage and reclined on the sleeping support.
“Good machine.” Picton laughed as he stunned him.
Pain jolted Malice’s form. His organics froze in place. He hated not being able to move, and he hated the fraggin’ human swaggering toward him.
Picton exchanged his gun for his reprimand stick. “If you had killed her, I might have showed you some leniency, machine.” He smacked the metal against his palm. “I might have done that.” His laugh sported a sharp edge. “I hate that frigid female.”
The guard rapped the reprimand stick across Malice’s shins. Agony shot up his legs. He endured it…because that was all he could do.
Valor. He contacted his brethren through the transmission lines. Keep the medic in your chamber.
His fragile little human would be in danger if she left that space. Loathing for her vibrated through the guard’s voice. The male would seek to damage Illona.
“The medic would add a note to my file if she knew I was here.” Picton targeted Malice’s groin next, slamming the reprimand stick across his cock. The pain was excruciating. “She believes hurting you impacts her damn results.”
The tension pulling across Malice’s shoulders eased.
His female hadn’t lied to him about trying to reduce his agony. The guard had no reason to fabricate her response, and she had used similar wording with the Humanoid Alliance, trying to convince them to allow the usage of pain inhibitors.
That argument was illogical…as their enemy must have processed. They’d denied her request.
Damage, pain, and other stressors created more nanocybotics. They would boost the results of her experiments, not hurt them.
His overly cautious medic would have proven that with her numerous tests. She would have processed that wouldn’t impact her results.
Illona had uttered those foolish statements, had risked her already precarious position with the Humanoid Alliance, for him, to decrease his pain.
Fraggin’ hole. There was an 86.2598 percent probability the blasted female would seek to protect him now if she processed his situation.
Don’t relay to my medic I’m being tortured. He sent that message to Valor.
His female might confront Picton, attempt to stop the torment. She was fragile, human, easily broken, and the guard hated her…more than Malice ever had.
The medic has removed the explosive. His friend gave him that update. I’m advising her to wait until that damage repairs before extracting the tracking devices. That will slow the process.
The delay would be required. Picton appeared to be in no rush to end the beating. The guard hit Malice twice across the stomach with the reprimand stick, the metal ringing against his frame.
Malice clenched his jaw. The impact of the stunning had worn off. Due to his enhanced nanocybotics, he recovered much quicker than he had in the past.
“She thinks she’s so smart, with that big brain of hers.” Picton’s eyes glowed with a malicious zeal. “She doesn’t realize two beings can use that tactic.” He slammed the reprimand stick against Malice’s face. Blood speckled his visual system. “I put notes in her file about how she talked with that other medic, the one who blew her own head off. I told them how they were always bumping into each other in the hallways.” The male snorted. “The two cunts hated each other, but the beings reviewing the footage won’t know that.”
The fraggin’ male would push Illona into danger. Malice curled his fingers into fists. His female hadn’t hated the other medic. She’d considered the female to be her friend.
A closer review of the footage might reveal their connection.
“Fuck. I wish it had been her that had walked through that door.” Picton beat Malice with the reprimand stick again and again. “They were both uptight females who thought they were better than everyone else, but she’s the worst, always haranguing me about the way I treat you machines. I would like to see her head being blown off. That would shut that measly mouth of hers forever.”
Malice’s doubts about his female’s motives dissipated with each whack of the guard’s reprimand stick. Illona was highly intelligent. She must have processed Picton would cause trouble for her, was a formidable enemy to make, yet she’d confronted and provoked the male.
For him. She had done it to shield him, not caring that it placed her lifespan at risk.
He recalled her anger after her friend’s death, how she’d appeared willing to seek vengeance, processing there was a high probability she would die. His female was brave, foolishly so, and too blasted careless with her well-being.
Picton’s face turned red. Sweat streamed down his ruddy cheeks. The guard struck Malice with all his might…which wasn’t much. He was a human. But it was enough to beat his flesh into mush.
As usual, Malice was stunned at regular intervals. The guard didn’t have the courage to hit him without those invisible restraints.
Malice endured the pain and withdrew into his processors. In the past, he had focused on hating Illona, on plotting her death, his vengeance. All his anger had been directed at her.
He no longer blamed her for her actions. She’d been trapped as he had been, was forced to play a role to ensure she lived and he survived.
During this planet rotation’s beating, he concentrated on the yearning inside him, on the need he had for his little female. It burned within him, had grown stronger with every breeding.
