Defying Death (15 page)

Death watched them closely, his fingers on the
triggers of his guns. The males, in turn, tracked his movements,
wary of him.

They should be cautious. Her cyborg killed first,
thought second.

Tifara scanned the warrior she was treating a second
time. According to Death’s device, there was no increase in body
temperature. She hadn’t infected the clone.

Tifara turned to treat the warrior to her right.

A gun muzzle pressed against her forehead, an arm
wrapped around her neck and she was pulled backward against the
leader. “Make a move and she dies.”

Oh no. This wouldn’t end well.

She met Death’s gaze. His eyes blazed with
outrage.

She slipped her device into one pocket and clutched
the arm restraining her, reducing the exposed body parts her cyborg
could shoot. “Don’t hurt anyone.”

“If your male behaves, you’ll be unharmed.” The
warrior thought she was talking to him.

He was a fool.

And he was ungrateful. She frowned at his wounded
hand, the hand she had treated. The medical tape and pain
inhibitors had been wasted on him.

Because he would die. Death would kill him for
touching her.

“The other two males didn’t do anything.” They
didn’t all have to die.

Death’s face was as hard as his metal frame.

One of the other males approached them, a gun
loosely grasped in his wounded hand. “Tell your male to put down
his weapons.”

Pop. A hole appeared in his forehead, his brains
blasted into the sand. He fell over.

Pop. The other male fell.

“No one tells me to do anything.” Death’s voice was
flat, emotionless, cold.

Tifara shivered with fear and with a shameful amount
of arousal.

“I’ll kill her.” The sole remaining male’s gun
shook, the metal cool against her forehead. “I swear to the
original I’ll blow your female’s head off if you move again.”

“And you believe that would matter to me?” Death
holstered one gun. “Haven’t you figured out who I am, humanoid?” He
removed the medical tape over his model number.

“You’re a cyborg, a machine.” A tremor rocked the
warrior. “You don’t care about any being.” He turned and ran,
kicking up dust behind him.

He didn’t get far. One bullet ripped through his
right calf, shattering his tibia. A second bullet rendered his left
leg unusable.

“You didn’t kill him.” That was a relief.

“I didn’t kill him. Yet.” Death drew Tifara to him.
“Are you damaged, female?”

“A moment ago, you didn’t care if my head was blown
off,” she grumbled, those words having hurt her. They shouldn’t
have. He was a killer. She’d known that about him.

“Did I say I didn’t care?” He patted her all over
from the top of her head to her ankles, his concern for her
well-being easing some of her pain. “No. I asked the foolish
humanoid questions and he determined his own answers.”

“So you do care?” She looked upward at him.

He didn’t meet her gaze. “Caring is weakness. If the
enemy knows a warrior cares about another being, that enemy will
target that being, try to damage her, kill her.”

As the trainers had killed the little Erinomean
girl.

Tifara studied Death. He continued to skim his
fingers over her shoulders, arms, breasts, his caresses tightening
her nipples. Did her warrior care about her? Would he allow himself
that weakness?

“I’m not damaged.” Tifara softened her voice. “He
could have shot me yet he didn’t.” She touched his face. “Show him
mercy, Death.”

He searched her eyes.

“Please.” She stroked his cheeks. “For me.”

Her cyborg nodded. “I’ll show him mercy. For you.
Stay here.” He stalked toward the whimpering male.

The warrior raised his weapon. Death shot it out of
his hands.

“You said you’d show me mercy.” The male’s voice was
high and squeaky.

“I
will
show you mercy.” Death picked him up.
“I won’t use a prolonger before I rip your arms off. I’ll allow
your feeble humanoid brain to shut down.” He yanked on the male’s
right arm.

Oh no. Not again. Tifara swayed, forcing herself to
watch. If she was going to align herself with Death, as she
suspected she was going to, she had to see him as he was, accept
him as he was—a killer.

The male screamed. His body twisted. His legs
kicked. Blood sprayed everywhere and the screaming faded.

The male was unconscious, his form limp.

Death tossed the right arm to the side and tore off
the left arm also.

“That’s not necessary.” She waved her hands. “He has
lost consciousness.”

“It’s necessary.” Her warrior ripped off the
humanoid’s legs. “He touched you. He threatened you. He almost
killed you.” Death kicked the torso across the sand, crimson
spraying over the white granules.

This was the being she was addicted to—a violent,
vengeful male who killed and tortured without hesitation.

Because his enemy had dared touch her.

That shouldn’t turn her on. She was a medic, devoted
to saving lives. Yet it did, very much so. Her pussy was wet and
her nipples were taut.

“The virus is affecting my brain.” She pulled off
her hand coverings and flicked them, re-sanitizing them. “Soon,
I’ll be rendered as savage as you are. Big male fight. Me horny.”
She grunted.

The grim set of Death’s lips softened. “You can suck
my cock soon, female.” He set sensors around the perimeter of their
ship. “First, we retrieve the nutrition bars.”

“You killed our source of the nutrition bars.” She
gestured to the limbless body.

“They were sloppy and left footprints in the sand.”
He appeared disgusted at that error. “We’ll track those footprints
back to their domicile.”

“Their domicile will be empty.” Because her warrior
had killed all of them. “We can take the nutrition bars.” The males
no longer needed them. “And no one else will end up dead.” She
nodded, happy with that plan.

“No one else will end up dead if we act quickly.”
Death flicked his fingers, indicating that she should come to
him.

He assumed she would comply without any
argument.

And he was right. She grasped her medic pack and
moved toward him. They were in his world now. She didn’t know
anything about tracking footprints or venturing across an unsettled
planet. “You touched the bodies. We have to sanitize the area.” She
gazed around them. They didn’t have the supplies to do that. “In
ancient times, they burned the corpses.”

“The smoke will draw the attention of beings.
They’ll arrive and I’ll have to kill them.” That didn’t seem to
alarm him.

Because he was a killer. She wasn’t. “Then we won’t
burn the corpses. They should dehydrate quickly in this heat.” She
reached up and placed another strip of medical tape over his model
number. “The lack of moisture could slow the spreading of the
virus.”

“There’s no virus, little medic.” The blood on his
body armor was already dry. “You’ll follow me closely and you won’t
speak,” he instructed.

She sighed. “I’m to be silent and unseen. Yet again.
I understand.”

“I doubt you do.”

Although she detected humor in his voice, there was
none in his face.

Her killer cyborg was, once again, as grim as
fuck.

Death scanned
the area around him. His female trudged behind him, mumbling to
herself. She was an intelligent being, but that big brain of hers
didn’t operate quietly. It was impossible for her to stop
talking.

She had almost been silenced permanently. When the
humanoid had pressed his gun against Tifara’s forehead, Death’s
vision system had turned red. Her death would have finished him,
ending not only any hope of happiness but also his lifespan.

Because he couldn’t live without her. She had asked
him if he cared. Cared? That word was too weak, too flimsy to
describe how he felt. She held his beating heart in her small
hands.

If any of their enemies knew that, they’d target
her.

A stone skittered. “We’re being watched.” He raised
his guns.

According to his lifeform scan, the being was tall
and slender and had breasts. He didn’t like killing precious
females but experience had shown him that they could be fierce
fighters, opponents to be wary of.

“No killing.” Tifara slapped his back. “We know
you’re watching us,” she yelled. “Show yourselves.”

So much for the element of surprise. Death gritted
his teeth.

The being held up her hands and stepped out from
behind a rock. “I’m Ada-971. Don’t hurt me.” She was humanoid with
white hair, purple eyes and paler purple, almost white, skin. Her
body was clad in white animal skins. Her legs and arms were toned,
her muscles lean.

“She’s female.” Tifara cast him a dark glance. “Of
course, she’s watching us. You exude aerosols that attract the
opposite sex. We’re unable to resist you.”

Death eyed Ada-971. The clone wasn’t his female. She
didn’t interest him.

“Ummm…I can resist him.” Ada-971 lowered her hands.
A gun was tucked into the waistband of her leather ass
covering.

Death twitched his guns and she raised her hands
again.

“You can’t resist him.” Tifara’s lips twisted. “I
know. I tried and failed. Look at him.” She waved at him. “He’s all
sculpted muscle and dominant male, designed to make you want to
touch him, to breed with him.”

He stood taller. His cock pressed against his body
armor, his body wanting to breed with his female right now.

“That touching spreads the virus inside him,” his
little medic continued. “Which would destroy anyone and everyone
you care about.”

Some of his desire deflated. Some but not all. His
cock remained as hard as a dagger. His fraggin’ female had that
effect on him.

The clone female’s eyes widened. “You have a
virus?”

“Yes,” Tifara answered. “But don’t concern yourself.
It’s transmitted by touch.”

That didn’t seem to reassure Ada-971. Her gaze
flicked from Tifara to him and then back to Tifara. “I’ll have to
risk infection. We need a medic.”

“You need me.” His female’s forehead furrowed with
thought lines. “You don’t desire my male?”

My
male. It was a struggle to control the
happiness within him. She was verbally claiming him.

“Physical desire is not permitted on Carinae E.”

“But you feel it,” Tifara pressed.

“I recognize his worthiness as a potential mate.”
Ada-971 shifted, her gaze darting between them, as though she was
weighing the words she shared. “But I feel no desire.”

“Nothing?” Disbelief lilted his female’s voice.

“Nothing.”

His stubborn little medic didn’t trust the other
female’s word. She extracted the private viewscreen he’d modified
for her and scanned Ada-971. Her forehead furrowed with lines.
“There’s no increase in body temperature or genitalia
lubrication.”

Ada-971’s face turned a deeper shade of purple.

“Stand closer to Ada-971,” Tifara instructed.

Death complied.

“Her body isn’t responding, not like mine does.
Hmmm…” Her humming curled around his balls as it always did. “You
were attracted to me based on my genetic material. It appears my
attraction to you has the same base.”

“You’re my female.” He’d been trying to tell her
that since they had met.

“Yes. Yes.” She waved the private viewscreen. “I’m
your female and you’re my male. But now, we better understand the
science behind that.”

“Ummm…” The clone female’s arms shook.

“She could be an exception, though.” His little
medic was her own world, pacing back and forth, kicking up sand,
heedless of the danger around her.

Death kept a close eye on her, ensuring she didn’t
go far, and he scanned the area around them, confirming it was
clear of lifeforms.

“If there were more females,” Tifara mused. “We
could expand the test.”

“There’s another female in the cave.” Ada-971
indicated the wall of rock behind her. “You can expand your test
while treating Ada-972.”

“Yes.” Tifara’s eyes glowed. “Let’s do that.” She
stepped forward.

“Stop.” Death flung his arm across her chest. “You
aren’t entering a cave filled with unknown beings.”

“There’s only one female in the cave and she’s
injured,” Ada-971 clarified.

“You’re a big strong warrior. You can protect me
from one injured female.” Tifara pushed against his arm.

Her faith in his abilities pleased him but the
situation wasn’t as simple as she believed. “Other beings could
enter the cave, trapping us.”

“They won’t,” Ada-971 assured him. “This territory
isn’t inhabited. Very few beings transverse it.”

“We’ve already met with three males this planet
rotation,” Death remarked dryly.

“They were hunting us.” Anger edged the female’s
voice. “They tell themselves it is an act of compassion. Not many
exiles survive in this landscape.”

“Exiles?” Tifara’s eyebrows lifted.

“Ada-972 was exiled due to her injuries. I chose to
join her.”

“She was exiled because she was injured?” His female
appeared shocked.

Death wasn’t. The Humanoid Alliance decommissioned,
killed, any cyborgs who were damaged during training exercises,
deeming them defective.

Exile would have been a kindness.

“Injuries aren’t allowed. It’s a sign of genetic
weakness.” Ada-971’s gaze slid to him. “If you hadn’t killed
Ric-954, Ric-955, and Ric-956, they would have been exiled also,
and then hunted as we were.”

Tifara gazed at him also, her expression
contemplative. “You saved them from that fate.”

Death shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the
attention. He wasn’t a hero, far from it. He hadn’t killed them out
of kindness but out of anger. They’d touched his female, had
threatened to end her life.

“If injuries aren’t allowed, how are you treating
her?” His little medic’s attention returned, as it always did, to
her area of expertise.