Containing Malice, page 11
He reveled in the footage Valor relayed of her, savoring her laughter, her smile, the warmth in her big brown eyes, the lilt in her voice. That, he projected, was the true Illona. The serene, cool medic persona had merely been a mask donned to fool their shared enemy.
Judging by her exchanges with Valor, they now also shared a friend. His female joked with the E Model as she extracted the tracking devices from his back, telling him she hadn’t lost a cyborg yet.
Then she admitted the two of them had been her only cyborg patients. Valor laughed. She did too, gaining amusement from her own joke.
If Malice hadn’t been stunned, he would have smiled also.
That was a revelation. He wasn’t the smiling type.
He also wasn’t the sharing kind. It didn’t mesh with his possessive nature. He would have preferred to be his female’s only patient, didn’t like that she was touching another male.
That male was his friend, wasn’t interested in breeding with Illona. Valor had complained numerous times, loudly, over the transmission lines that she stunk like a C Model. The warrior acknowledged Malice’s claim, respected it, would never touch her.
And touching beings was her role. She was a medic. Medics often made physical contact with their patients to run diagnostics on them and to repair them. That was part of the process.
But Malice didn’t like the touching. At all.
She was his. He—
The handheld clipped to Picton’s flight suit buzzed, gyrated against the male’s hip. The guard didn’t appear to notice that signal. He continued to pummel Malice into crimson pulp. The handheld vibrated more vigorously. The hum became louder.
The door opened. Bonin stood on the chamber’s threshold. “Picton, sir, did you get the communication?”
“What the fuck is it now?” The male glared at his fellow guard.
Bonin’s gaze lowered. “There was a message, sir.” He gulped air. “From the Humanoid Alliance. Didn’t you get it, sir?”
“If you got it, I must have got it.” Picton rammed the bloodied reprimand stick into its holder. “I have seniority.” He grabbed his handheld, looked down at the small screen. “We’re to meet in the working chambers. The Humanoid Alliance will communicate via the viewscreen there, give us our instructions.” His gaze shifted to Bonin’s face. “What the fuck did you two dumbasses do now? If you messed with my file, I’ll—”
“I didn’t mess with your file.” Bonin lifted his hands, feigning surrender. “I swear, Picton, sir, I would never betray you, not like that.”
Picton frowned at him.
“Or in any way.” The male hastily added that clarification. “I’m completely loyal to you, sir.”
“Then what is this about?” Picton waved the handheld in the air.
“I don’t know, Picton, sir.” Bonin shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other. The male remained half in, half out of the chamber, blocking the door from closing.
Picton made an exasperated sound. “You have a reprieve, machine.” He exchanged the handheld for his gun, stunned Malice one more time before deactivating the sleeping support. The guard’s attention then returned to Bonin. “We’ll go, get our instructions.”
The two males left the chamber.
Malice tracked them through his lifeform scans. They moved away from the cyborg section of the structure. It’s safe for the medic to return. He transmitted that information to Valor.
She’s removing the tracking device in my back. There was tightness in the E Model’s transmission. He must be in pain. Then she has to remove the tracking devices on my detached arms.
Accomplish that quickly. He wouldn’t relax until Illona had returned to his side.
Moments passed.
His little medic didn’t enter his chamber. Valor, what the frag are the two of you—
A boom sounded. One of the wall panels flew across the chamber.
The explosive he’d extracted from Illona’s chin had been hidden in that space. A chill swept over Malice. Tell her to return. Now. He attempted to lift his arms. They remained immobilized. My female is in danger. The Humanoid Alliance is seeking to eliminate her.
Your female. Valor noted that term of address.
He didn’t care what that had relayed about him, about his feelings, his attachment to the little medic. She was their enemy’s target, and he had to safeguard her from them.
He strained against his invisible bonds, couldn’t free himself.
Three lifeforms appeared on his scans. Dread gripped Malice.
All the lifeforms were human. All three of them moved past his chamber, heading toward Valor’s quarters, toward Illona.
They’re coming for her. Malice frantically pushed upward, was unable to move. Can you protect her for me, warrior?
How can I protect her? Valor’s voice was edged with a panic he shared. I can’t protect myself. My arms and legs are detached.
I can’t help her either. I remain stunned. They were cyborgs, two of the most-skilled warriors in the universe, and they couldn’t defend a being they cared about from three paltry humans. Warn her of the approaching danger.
His female was clever. She could avoid damage for a few moments, use that quick wit and ever moving lips of hers to delay an attack.
That was all he needed her to do—delay it.
In thirty, thirty-five heartbeats, he would free himself.
And then the beings threatening her would die. Painfully.
Chapter Eleven
Illona adored her cyborg’s friend. Valor had been confined to a sleeping support for solar cycles, long before she had met him. His arms and legs had been detached.
Yet he had maintained a sense of humor and was one of the biggest flirts she’d ever encountered.
“Ahhhh…that feels nice.” He grinned at her as she extracted the tracking device from one of his arms.
“You can’t feel anything.” She smiled back at him. He was no longer feeling the pain of being shocked. She’d deactivated the sleeping support. “Your arms haven’t yet been reattached.”
The tracking device in his back had been removed. The explosive had also been taken out of his chin.
She’d set it by the door, as far away from them as possible. Her gaze shifted to that spot in the chamber. She didn’t trust it not to detonate.
“My limbs have been detached for six solar cycles, seventy-two planet rotations, and one shift.” He had noted the exact time he’d lost use of his arms and legs, and that telling detail tugged at her heart. “There is a high probability they won’t be functional.”
“They’re functional.” She hadn’t been allowed to reattach them. The Humanoid Alliance had forbidden that. But she had scanned them. Multiple times. “I haven't yet figured out how to re-cover them with skin and flesh, but they are functional.”
The nanocybotics booster might accomplish that feat, but the odds of that happening were too slim to mention yet to the E Model. She didn’t want to lift his hopes, only to dash them again.
That would be torture. Her lips twisted. Despite what Malice believed, she didn’t enjoy tormenting other beings.
“I’ll never be as good-looking as Malice is.” Valor winked at her. “I won’t have pretty little human medics swooning all over me.”
“If you’re referring to me, I don’t swoon over anyone.” She extracted the tracking device, set it on the sleeping support beside him, and moved to his other arm. “And I’ve seen Malice in that state.” That had been one of the cruel experiments the Humanoid Alliance insisted she lead. It had required removing all his skin and flesh down to his frame. “If I was predisposed to swooning over him, which I’m not—” She lifted her right index finger. “—I would have still swooned over him when his mechanics were visible.”
He had been very shiny…and intriguingly smooth.
She rubbed her fabric-covered thighs together. They couldn’t have fucked, not in any traditional way, but that would have felt…interesting against her skin.
Her pussy dripped and her face heated with shame.
What was she doing? She was a medic, damn it. She shouldn’t be thinking arousing thoughts like that, not while she was tending to a patient.
Valor, that patient, her cyborg’s friend, had tilted his head to the side, was studying her. “Are you proposing a human female could desire me as much as you desire Malice?”
Illona’s cheeks approached the surface temperature of a sun. “I’m stating that there will be human females who desire you. That’s a certainty. I’m not saying I desire your friend.” Though she did want Malice. Very much.
She ached with yearning, missing his hands, his taste, his everything.
“I smell Malice on you.” The E Model’s dark eyes glittered with mirth.
Stars. This discussion was mortifying.
“He doesn’t trust me.” She blurted out that truth. “Your friend questions almost every word I say, and I can’t blame him for that.” Her shoulders slumped. “I hurt him. Severely. Again and again.”
“Picton hurt him. Severely. Again and again.” Valor shrugged. “Malice doesn’t trust him either.”
She was placed in the same category as the guard, and that struck at her heart. The male was everything she despised in a being.
“But Malice has never hated Picton as much as he has hated you.” Valor’s gentle smile didn’t take the sting out of that devastating statement.
Illona winced. She wasn’t in the same class as the guard. Malice hated her more.
“His extreme response to you wasn’t caused by the physical damage you inflicted on him.” The E Model met her gaze. “Cyborgs are accustomed to pain. We also expect betrayal, especially from your kind.” His tone communicated he shared Malice’s low view of humans. “His hatred was due to the other emotions you make him feel.”
“He wants me.” As she wanted him. “I’m a female and he—”
“The previous medics were also females.” Valor shook his head. “Malice didn’t want any of them. He has only desired you.”
She blinked once, twice, three times. Her cyborg only desired her. She was special to him in some way. “Why am I diff—”
“You’re his female.” Valor’s words became clipped. “And you have to return to him. Now.”
“I have tasks to complete.” Her schedule wasn’t decided by one dominant male. “Malice will have to wait for a few moments.”
His friend frowned. “Medic Illona—”
“I’m reattaching your limbs before I leave the chamber.” The Humanoid Alliance would kill her for doing that, but she suspected she was already a dead being walking.
Valor stared at her. “You would do that for me?”
“I should have done that for you a solar cycle and a half ago.” Her tone was brusque. The yearning in the warrior’s eyes increased her guilt over the delay. “But you weren’t ready to escape then.”
“We’re not escaping this planet rotation either.” He sighed. “You should wait to reattach my arms and legs.”
She set aside the tracking device she’d extracted from the second arm. “I’m reattaching your arms and legs now.” She doubted she had many moments of life left. “The Humanoid Alliance might direct someone else to remove them…or they might not. They might be concerned with other issues.”
Like uncovering whether or not Medic Febris had been working alone.
When they determined her friend hadn’t been acting on her own, that she had been partnered with her, they would shift their focus to capturing and killing her. Removing Valor’s limbs might be a lower priority for them.
And she wanted to make him whole before she died. He would be one more being helped, healed. The act would have made Medic Anahit, her mentor, proud. It would offset some of the damage Illona’s temporarily alignment with the Humanoid Alliance had caused.
Her lifespan would have meant something.
She picked up Valor’s right arm. “I should scan this first, ensure—”
“Three humans are heading toward the chamber.” Valor looked toward the door. “They’re coming for you. You have to prepare for that confrontation, not reattach my limbs.”
There was nothing she could do to prepare for that confrontation. She couldn’t hide. The sleeping support wouldn’t shield her form from view.
The chamber had been designed so beings couldn’t conceal their presence.
And she couldn’t fight three foes. “They could be coming for you.”
Reattaching Valor’s limbs might give him a chance against them. She skipped the scans, the examination, other safety precautions, and pushed the arm into the socket. It snapped together. Energy coursed along his circuits, lighting the limb.
“I feel my arm.” His tone held marvel. He curled his fingers and splayed them. “Medic Illona, you should—”
“I should attach your other arm.” She rushed to the other side of the E Model. “You’re right about that.” She picked up that limb. It was as heavy as the first one. “If you have to make a choice, choose yourself. Be free. Take Malice with you. Escape this place and—”
The door opened.
“Put down the arm, Medic.” Picton’s voice grated along her spine.
She shoved the arm into its socket. It clicked. She turned around.
The guard stood in front of the door. Nelson, one of his cronies, was positioned to his left. That male had his gun drawn, was aiming it at the cyborg.
Bonin must have been the third human. He would be waiting in the hallway, ready to re-open the door when their horrid mission was completed.
They must be seeking to decommission Valor.
“Don’t damage it.” She spread out her arms, seeking to protect the cyborg. “I need the machine to be fully functional for my next experiment.”
“Stun the machine.” Picton issued that order.
Nelson pressed the trigger.
Her form was too slight to block the bolt of energy. It passed her.
Valor jerked and then went completely still.
He wouldn’t, couldn’t, help her safeguard him. Illona slipped her hands in her pockets. She was on her own, would fight to the death to keep the E Model, Malice’s friend, alive.
“Your experiments are over, cunt.” Picton sneered at her. “We’re not damaging the machine. Yet.” He drew his reprimand stick, his torture tool of choice. “We’re damaging you.”
Valor had been correct. She was the being in danger.
Her fingers curled around the laser scalpel. “That’s not very wise of you, Picton.” She sniffed, feigned a coolness she didn’t feel. “The Humanoid Alliance—”
“The Humanoid Alliance gave us that order, you uppity idiot.” The guard smirked. “They said to kill you, but they didn’t say how quickly.” He shifted his hold on the reprimand stick. There were specks of dried blood on the metal. “I’m going to make you hurt.”
This was it—the end of her. Illona lifted her chin. She would soon be dead.
There was movement at the edge of her vision. Valor was dragging himself along the sleeping support by his completely mechanical fingertips.
Stunning only impacted a cyborg’s organics, and his arms and legs were no longer covered with flesh and skin. If he lowered his torso until those sockets touched his legs, he could reattach them.
She edged away from the cyborg, seeking to distract the guards from his activities. “And what will they tell you to do after that, Picton—decommission the machines?”
The male blinked. His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed.
Fuck. They did plan to kill Malice and Valor.
She hadn’t felt any fear for herself, for her own fate. Death had been progressing toward her at a head-spinning rate since she’d deactivated the transmission blocker. She’d accepted the end, had embraced it.
But the prospect of her cyborg dying filled her with terror. She had to save him, save his friend.
“Once you kill me and decommission the machines, you’ll only have the Resurrected to guard.” She wielded her mind, her ability to talk, to negotiate as weapons. Every moment she delayed gave Valor more time to reattach his legs. “The Humanoid Alliance doesn’t require three guards to oversee those beings.” She looked at the other guard. “But Nelson already knows that, don’t you, Nelson?”
She didn’t know if that was the truth. Her goal was to divide them.
“I don’t know anything.” Nelson tried to appease Picton. “I swear that’s the truth.”
“Shut up.” Picton’s knuckles whitened around the reprimand stick. “I’ll deal with you later. You.” He glared at her. “Shut your mouth. I’ve had enough of your chatter.”
The chatter was postponing her death. “I—”
“I said, shut up.” He ran toward her, lifted the reprimand stick.
She ducked to the left, dodging the blow. As he passed her, she extracted the laser scalpel from her jacket, activated it, sliced through his flight suit, slashing his stomach.
“You cunt.” Picton spun around and swung his torture tool.
She twisted her form but wasn’t able to avoid the strike. Metal struck her arm. Bones cracked. Pain surged over her. The laser scalpel dropped from her fingers, clattered against the floor tiles.
He lifted the reprimand stick again.
She bounced back, out of his reach. Her right arm was useless. It hung at her side. And she had lost her makeshift weapon.
Her foe had been wounded, however. Crimson bloomed over his midriff.
That was a small victory, but she’d take it. “You move too slow, Picton.” She ignored her agony, watched his hands, the position of his booted feet.
“I could stun her.” Nelson made that unhelpful offer.
Being stunned would render her unable to defend herself, unable to avoid their attacks. A chill gripped her. Picton could do all the horrible things he no doubt had planned for her and she couldn’t stop him, would have to endure it.
“Stunning her would take the fun out of this.” Picton, fortunately, turned down that proposal. “I want to hear her scream and cry and beg me for mercy.”
