Containing Malice, page 3
Her countenance was devoid of expression.
Frag. She was a cold being.
“I have another patient to see.” She wrapped her jacket tighter around her slight form. “Rest for the remaining portion of the planet rotation. Don’t overexert yourself.”
How could he overexert himself?
He was imprisoned in a small chamber that held nothing except a sleeping support to facilitate her harsh experiments, a nourishment dispenser to feed his organics, and energy outlets to recharge his machine side.
She took one more look at him, turned, and walked toward the door.
He wanted to follow her. That was how much the blasted female had damaged his processors, his brain.
She rapped her knuckles against the door. There were no control panels in the chamber. The Humanoid Alliance processed if those were available, cyborgs like himself could circumvent any security measures they installed and access every system in the structure.
The door opened. The medic, his enemy, exited the chamber.
A sensation similar to losing a limb hit him. The silence was unnerving. Her chatter vexed him, but it interrupted the quiet, and it made his friend, Valor, happy.
You’re next. He warned the E Model through the transmission lines. She’s headed toward you. Don’t relay any information to her.
The warrior didn’t view her with the animosity he should. Valor hadn’t told her anything more damaging than their names. That she had even that information about them bothered Malice.
I miss communications. Valor said that in his defense. She chatters to me.
It’s a trick. Malice didn’t trust the chatter and he didn’t trust her. She wants you to lower your guard, tell her secrets she can use against you.
He strained upward. His hands lifted from the surface of the sleeping support.
It was too soon after being stunned to be able to move. His processors spun. Was his fast recovery due to the injection, or was the sleeping support malfunctioning?
How could he use this development to help in their escape?
I won’t relay any secrets. Valor’s tone was dry. If we have any secrets left from her. The probability of that is 11.5289 percent.
That probability is high enough to warrant staying silent. If Malice could manage it, the E Model could do the same. Don’t talk to her. Don’t be swayed by the touching.
She rarely touches me. She reserves that for you. His friend sounded amused.
There was nothing humorous about it. He pushed against his metal restraints. They bent. If he pressed harder, he projected they’d break. She reserves that torture for me.
Is it torture? Valor’s processors must have been malfunctioning for him to ask that question. She’s an attractive female.
She’s the enemy. And he would kill her. The last stunning didn’t take. I can move.
This could help us. Excitement lilted the E Model’s transmission.
It doesn’t help us much. Malice tilted his head back, processing the situation. I can free myself from the sleeping support but not from the chamber. And if the head guard—
Picton. Valor hated the male as much as he did.
If he uncovers I can move, he’ll increase the intensity of the stunning. That would wipe out any advantage they were given. I have to conceal this development from the guard. And from the medic.
As though summoned, the door opened and Picton stepped inside the chamber. Nelson, the other guard, was visible in the hallway behind him.
The Humanoid Alliance had designed the system so two guards were always present when the doors to the cyborg chambers were opened. One guard entered the space. The other guard waited outside, ready to open the door when the first guard was done delivering pain.
The human guards seemed to believe the system protected them.
It didn’t safeguard them. At all.
Malice could kill them both before they processed the attack. He was a cyborg, could move faster than their inferior human visual system could follow.
Only his caring for Valor, his friend, kept him restrained. Once that warrior was free, was safe, nothing would bind Malice. Picton, Nelson, the other guards, and the medic would be dead.
“Your face won’t be so pretty in a moment, machine.” Picton smacked a reprimand stick against his palm.
Malice could snap that torture tool in two and not strain a muscle. He pressed his fingertips into his palms, forcing himself to remain as still as possible.
It will be a challenge to not react, to take the pain, while processing you can kill him at any moment. Valor outlined the challenge the C Model would soon face.
I can do it. Malice clenched his jaw.
He could endure the medic’s abuse and he could endure this.
But once he was free, all the humans in the lab would die.
That would be his reward and he would savor it.
Chapter Three
It was time for the next step in Illona’s plan to free the cyborgs. It was a dangerous step. She might not survive it, but the risk had to be taken.
The communication came midway through the rest cycle. The machine was agitated, Picton had relayed. She had requested she be notified. He was notifying her.
Illona had feigned surprise, had told him she would be there soon. But she had expected the message. She had threatened the guard’s cozy position with the Humanoid Alliance.
He would seek to eliminate her, would think it humorous to use whom he considered to be her favorite test subject to do that.
She mussed her hair, unfastened and sloppily refastened her flight suit, giving the impression she’d been roused from a deep sleep. The pockets of her medic jacket had already been stocked with her mini medic pack, the unlocked laser scalpel, other supplies she might need. She donned the garment, left her private chambers, strode along the hallways.
Malice might kill her.
The injection of the latest nanocybotics-boosting formula was harsher than she’d expected. A shiver rolled down her spine as she remembered the agony in his eyes. She had worried for a couple heartbeats she’d permanently damaged him.
Ending his lifespan hadn’t been a possibility. She’d tested it on herself first. But it could have terminated all of his nanocybotics, and that would have weakened him tremendously.
Instead, it appeared to have strengthened him. She’d been successful. Finally. She couldn’t allow her elation to show. If the Humanoid Alliance realized it worked, they would have no further need for their cyborg test subjects, for her.
One of the Resurrected flung herself at the clear partition lining the hallway. Illona jerked. They were the beings her uncaring overlords would next test the formula on.
Body after body smacked against the portals. She would never become accustomed to their desperation, to their palpable pain.
And strengthening the Resurrected’s version of nanocybotics wouldn’t stop their agony. They would continue to rot, their bodies unceasingly dying. It would merely make them appear less decayed, allow them to possibly hold weapons, making them more useful to the Humanoid Alliance.
She’d die before she allowed the Humanoid Alliance to leverage her formula to create an army of the undead. The formula she’d entered into the system deviated greatly from the one she’d injected into Malice.
Whether her lifespan ended in a couple moments, at the cyborg’s enhanced hands, or at sunrise, when she was standing beside her friend, Medic Febris, the result would be the same—the formula would perish with her.
Her unwilling test subjects would also have a greater chance to escape.
Someone would leave this horrific place. Stars. She hated the lab and everything it stood for.
The only bright spots were her too-brief conversations with Medic Febris, a friend who would soon die, and her frustration-filled moments with Malice, a male who loathed her.
Picton smirked as he stood by the door to the C Model’s chamber. His minion, Nelson, loitered nearby.
The head guard thought he was being so damn clever, tricking her into venturing into a dangerous situation.
The male didn’t know she had long embraced death, wished for it, and there was no one she would rather deliver her demise than Malice.
If he complied with the guard’s not-so-stealthy plan, the last view she’d see was the cyborg’s handsome face. The last being she’d touch was the single soul whose brutish caresses she craved.
She longed for that end, was prepared for it. Illona slipped one of her hands into the pocket of her jacket, curled her fingers around the laser scalpel hidden there.
“The machine is agitated.” Picton’s voice lilted with a demented glee.
“I’ll take care of it.” She feigned a yawn. “Go back to whatever you were doing.”
She waved her hands, dismissing the guard.
That angered him, as she had intended. His face turned a nasty shade of red. “You should have been nicer to me, Medic.” His voice lowered.
“You should do your role and keep your few thoughts to yourself.” She smacked one of her palms against the control panel.
The door opened. She stepped forward.
“Kill the human female, C589632. Slowly.” Picton issued that order before the door closed.
She gazed ahead of her. The sleeping support was empty, as she suspected it would be.
Her nipples were tight and her pussy was wet. Her reaction told her Malice was somewhere in the chamber.
The cyborg, a male who had many, many reasons to hate her, to want her dead, was not at all restrained.
Picton would expect her to be surprised, to panic.
Illona turned and rapped her knuckles against the door. “Open the door. He hasn’t been stunned. Open it.”
There was silence. The door didn’t open.
The guards had likely left, but she continued with her acting. “Open the door, Picton.” She smacked the metal surface.
“Picton isn’t coming to your rescue this time, Medic.” Malice’s decadently deep voice coiled around her. “You’re at my mercy now.”
She trembled…with fear, with anticipation, with desire.
The cyborg’s tone told her he didn’t have any mercy. Not for her.
Warm breath wafted against her nape. The tiny hairs on her skin lifted.
Malice was directly behind her.
She froze in place. Her heart pounded.
They remained that way for a moment, with her facing the door, with him blowing over the back on her neck. He didn’t say anything more, didn’t take any other action.
It was arousing…and terrifying. Sweat trickled down her spine.
She’d thought she wouldn’t be scared, thought she’d serenely accept her death. That had been bovine shit thinking. She was frightened out of her mind.
“Aren’t you going to beg for your life?” His lips brushed over her skin.
She quivered. “Would that make a difference?” She turned slowly.
He stood in front of her, excitingly close and thrillingly naked.
She tilted her head back, looked up, up, up. Stars. He was huge, tall, and broad-shouldered, his muscles defined, flexed, hard.
His jaw was clenched. His lips were set in a flat, grim line. His brilliant blue eyes glowed.
“No.” His right arm moved so quickly his form blurred. He wrapped his fingers around her neck. “It won’t make a difference.” Malice lifted her until her gaze was level with his, and her booted feet dangled above the floor. “Nothing you say will stop me from killing you.”
Her hands raised. She stopped that instinctual reaction, wouldn’t fight her death. There were other things she had to do before he ended her life.
He leaned closer to her. “Most humans offer some sort of resistance.” His nostrils flared and energy flashed in his eyes.
Most humans hadn’t her knowledge of his kind. If the cyborg wanted to kill her—and she believed he did—there was nothing she could do to stop that.
Her gaze flicked toward the monitoring equipment. The light on it wasn’t illuminated.
Malice looked at it also. “You won’t get any help from them either.” He tightened his grip on her. Darkness rimmed her vision. “Picton deactivated it before you entered.”
She assumed the guard would do that.
Not having any witnesses served her purposes also. She shrugged out of her jacket. It dropped with a thud to the tiles.
Malice’s hard cock twitched against her right thigh. “Offering me your body won’t stop your death.”
She wasn’t offering her body to him. Her goal had been to protect the contents of the jacket. Her death was certain to be…bloody.
But her form was his to do with as he wished. He was no longer her patient. Her jacket was on the floor. Her medic role had been shed.
And she doubted she could stop him even if she wanted to do that. The darkness closed in around her. She would have liked to have been conscious, alive, when they finally fucked, when he acted on the passion, the wanting, the need that had always flowed between them.
That wouldn’t be the situation. Her gaze locked with his. The pressure in her brain was unbearable. She felt as though her brain would explode. It—
“But it will delay it for a few moments.” He released her.
She fell for less than a heartbeat before he caught her, pinning her hips to the door. Her throat burned as she spluttered, drawing in huge mouthfuls of precious oxygen.
“I’ll use you hard, Medic.” He gripped the lapels of her flight suit and yanked. Fabric ripped. Cool air rushed over her heated skin. “I’ll indulge my every depraved processing.” He tore her garment to pieces, his ferocity stimulating her. “You’ll plead for death long before I’m done with you.”
Stars. The male could talk when he chose to do so. She trembled with desire. He was vowing to make her fantasies come true.
And she wanted that. Badly.
She pushed back her pain and lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “Fuck me up…if you can.” She flung that challenge at him. Her voice was hoarse. “I don’t think you have it in you.”
A rumble rolled up his chest, growing louder and louder. “You can’t process what I’m capable of doing, Medic.” He surged forward.
Their lips collided. His flesh was hard and unrelenting against hers. The back of her head smacked against the door. Pain exploded in her brain.
Her cyborg didn’t care about her well-being. He ravished her, grinding against her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She bubbled and fizzed. The metallic taste of blood meshed with his distinct flavor.
Her cyborg cupped one of her breasts with a big hand and squeezed. She gasped. That hurt was deliciously acute. He worked her curve with an arousing savagery, ruthlessly pinching, pulling on her nipple.
Stars. He would make her come with kissing and titty play alone.
She hooked her legs around his waist. Her wet pussy lips connected with his shaft, and they both hissed. That sound was muffled by their lips.
Warmth trickled from her nostrils. Her nose was bleeding.
That didn’t stop her cyborg. He swiveled his hips against her. His dry humping would leave bruises all over her body, and she craved that marking, that branding of her. She dripped for him.
“Beg me to stop, Medic.” His eyes were brighter than she’d ever seen them. “And I might be kind, might kill you now.”
He wasn’t a kind being and she didn’t want his mercy. “I will beg.”
His lips flattened. “I projected you would.”
She slid her hands over his pecs and his muscles firmed under her palms. “I will beg for your big cock.” That part of him bobbed against her. “I will beg you to fuck me like I’ve never been fucked, to pound into my pussy with everything you have, to own my body, destroying it for other males.”
“There will be no other males.” Malice slammed her shoulders back against the door. “You are mine, mine to use, mine to kill.”
His possessiveness curled her toes, made her a bit crazed. “Then use me, cyborg.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.” He snarled at her, baring his teeth.
This would definitely be a hate fuck. Her form tingled with anticipation. “Should I find another male to use me as harshly as I yearn to be used?”
“Frag other males.” He drew his hips back. “And frag you.” He drove forward, filling her with the longest, thickest cock she’d ever taken, tearing a scream from her throat.
Damn. That hurt…in the best way possible. She was stretched to the point of bursting, felt him to her core. He pulsed inside her, was dominant, and, in this moment, hers.
“That’s my cock deep inside you, Medic.” His eyes glowed with satisfaction, with lust, with something else she couldn’t, wouldn’t name. “The cyborg you tortured for the past five hundred and fifty-seven planet rotations is breeding with you, will pump his cum into you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
She didn’t want to stop that. “One thrust isn’t breeding.” Illona smacked her boot-clad heels against his ass cheeks.
His eyes flashed with energy.
And then all chaos broke loose.
Her cyborg pounded into her with a breath-stealing fervor, slapping her ass against the door, beating her breasts with his chest, pummeling her hips with his.
His aggression silenced her thoughts, her worries, banishing them from her brain for the first time in…she couldn’t remember the last time she truly lived in the moment. She embraced that rarity, that gift. Unwilling and unable to fight it, to fight him, she clung to her cyborg’s shoulders and enjoyed the fucking of her lifespan.
Her pussy hummed with the sensual abuse. More blood dripped downward, from her nose.
He grunted with every piston forward, that beastlike sound spiraling her passion upward. She’d fantasized about him for over a solar cycle and a half, and none of those erotic dreams equaled the exquisite reality of their joining.
An enthralling heat spread over her. She’d been so cold for so long, the illness the experiments had inflicted on her chilling her to the bone. Yet he warmed her. Sweat beaded on her skin.
She hitched her hips into his thrusts. Her cyborg would likely kill her after he’d sated his forbidden desires but, in the moment, with him taking her like a male possessed, she had never felt more alive.
