Defying Death (18 page)

His branding of her would be more lasting. Although
her ability to heal now rivaled his, he’d leave his imprint on her
heart, change her very being with his nanocybotics, influence how
she saw the universe and the medical field for the rest of her
lifespan.

Her pussy hummed. His balls smacked against her
skin. Their tongues twined sensuously. Tifara slid her hands up
Death’s arms, gripping his shoulders, savoring the power in
them.

She’d come already, mere moments ago. He hadn’t. She
shouldn’t be the first to break yet she knew she would be. Her legs
already trembled. Her heart beat fast. She tingled all over and was
too exhausted to fight her arousal.

“Death.” She didn’t want to disappoint him. She
didn’t. “I can’t.”

“Come once more, around me.” He thrust hard, shaking
her lush form. “Come now, my Tifara.” He swiveled his hips.

She splintered, parts of her flying in all different
directions. She must have clenched his cock because he howled,
pushing deeper. Nanocybotic-infused cum hit her sensitive flesh and
she body-slammed him, trying to dislodge him, but not truly wanting
to be successful.

Death rutted into her once, twice, three times,
pumping more of his unique essence into her pussy. The pleasure was
too much, too intense. Tifara bit down on his left pec and raked
her fingernails over his back.

He lowered his heavy physique, pressing her into the
sleeping support, stopping her frantic movements. She nuzzled
against his chest, relishing the warmth, the caring, the brief
escape from her concerns. Her warrior had her.

When the sun rose, she’d worry about wounded clone
females, the lack of nutrition bars, and a virus she was no longer
desperate to cure.

Three planet
rotations later, the clone female continued to cling to life. Death
had retrieved the nutrition bars from the dead male clones’ camp.
The clone females had devoured some of them. They had thanked him
so profusely for the supplies; he found it impossible to object to
their consumption.

Using his sensors, he’d located an underground water
supply deep in the cave. He’d dug a hole through several layers of
rock to reach it. The females, especially his Tifara, had been
appreciative of that also.

Cleaning the cave had lessened the reek but hadn’t
removed it entirely. The air was saliva-sucking dry, the
temperature scorching hot. There was nothing and no one to fight,
to kill.

Death’s gaze returned to his Tifara. The
inhospitable surroundings couldn’t dampen his happiness. He was
with his female.

“Death, could you assist us?” She waved him to her
side. “I want to spray under Ada-972.”

“Males should not touch females,” their patient
mumbled, her protest weak. “It is forbidden.”

He didn’t want to touch any female other than his
own. But the damaged clone female had to be moved and only he had
the strength to accomplish that task without stressing her. He
donned his hand coverings.

“I’m sorry, Death.” Ada-972’s eyes filled with
guilt. “I’m forcing you to do the forbidden.”

She was sorry because she feared she was endangering
his soul.

She didn’t realize he was a cyborg. The medical tape
covered his model number. But she knew he was a warrior, a
killer.

Yet she worried for him. She worried for him while
she lay helpless on the stone, dying more and more with each
passing planet rotation.

It pained his big cyborg heart.

“This isn’t necessary.” She fussed. “I told Medic
Tifara that she didn’t have to spray under me. I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine. Death lifted her. Insects
scattered, a wiggling, crawling panel of lifeforms moving across
the cave floor. He inwardly winced. The clone female’s back was
bloody with bites.

She was a source of precious moisture in the parched
terrain and the insects were feasting upon her. Being damaged, she
was unable to ward them off.

The pain inhibitors ensured she didn’t feel the
six-legged assault.

Tifara met his gaze, her eyes reflecting her horror
and she sprayed the hard rock with a concoction she’d developed. It
slowed but didn’t stop the attacks.

Ada-971 placed a makeshift sleeping support under
the clone female. She’d fastened together leathers he’d retrieved
from the male clones’ camp and filled the gaps between them with
sand.

It would rot within mere planet rotations and it was
excessive effort for a being who would die. Death gently set
Ada-972 on the leathers, saying nothing.

It brought Ada-971 happiness and it was impossible
to treat Ada-972 with detachment. Even now, the damaged female
smiled up at him, viewing him as a friend.

“You’re a kind male.” She touched his chin. Her
fingers were hot with infection.

“Ada-972.” Tifara batted her hands away from his
face. “He’s carrying a virus.” She rubbed the clone female’s
fingers with a cleaning cloth. “We can’t allow it to spread.”

“A virus is the least of my problems.” Ada-972’s
laugh was edged with sadness. “And I’ve decided, for now, to
abandon the rules. If Death can risk his place in the
constellations, I will risk my place also. Because I will tell you
a secret.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I like touching
him.”

“I don’t like you touching him,” Tifara mumbled
under her breath.

His little female was jealous. Death stifled his
grin. The so-called virus was an excuse. She didn’t like any other
being to touch him.

“Tell me about the planets you’ve seen, Death,”
Ada-972 asked. She had never left Carinae E. Space travel was also
forbidden. “Is it true there are planets with multiple suns?”

He told her of the planets he’d seen, not mentioning
that he’d been sent there to fight, to kill. Ada-971 lay beside her
clone sister, cuddling by her side, also listening.

He’d experienced things these females hadn’t. He’d
seen different worlds. He’d bred with another being, a being he
would kill for. His gaze drifted to Tifara. She tended to Ada-972’s
wounds, trying to stop the spread of the rot.

That wasn’t possible but his little medic
had
slowed the spread. Pride filled Death. She’d given the damaged
clone female more planet rotations of life.

Although chatter wasn’t a skill he excelled at, he
forced himself to talk until the damaged female’s eyes closed and
her breathing leveled. Then he stood and held out his hand to
Tifara.

He didn’t have to say another word. His female
hurried to his side and placed her palm in his. They walked into
the sunlight. She stumbled over a rock, her vision system slow to
correct to the increased light.

Death scooped her into his arms, mentally berating
himself for not doing that sooner. She was tired, was achingly
human, and carrying her was a pleasure. Her curves pressed against
his body armor. Her light scent flavored the air around them.

He strode toward the ship, his female in his arms.
They were followed. Every planet rotation, Ada-971 trailed them.
She waited until they entered the ship and then she returned to the
cave.

Death suspected she thought she was protecting them.
It was a ludicrous notion. He was a cyborg, one of the best
warriors in the universe. He didn’t require any protection.

Or maybe he did.

His sensors picked out a lifeform signature and his
stomach churned. The lifeform was cyborg.

His brethren had found him. He detected only one
cyborg but the council wouldn’t send a single warrior to capture
him.

There would be others, more warriors than he could
defeat. Death would fight, engage in one last glorious battle.

And he would die.

“This time with you have been the happiest planet
rotations of my long lifespan.” He lowered his female until her
boots touched the sand. “I regret nothing, would make the same
decisions again. Simply touching your beautiful face is worth what
will follow.” He cupped her cheeks, gazing into her concerned brown
eyes. “I am and will always be the most fortunate of warriors.”

“Why are you talking like this, Death?” She placed
her hands on his. “What is happening?”

“Fate.” As she was his destiny. Their paths were
entwined. “Fate is happening.”

“Cyborgs don’t believe in fate.” His medic frowned.
“You’ve told me that multiple times. You believe in logic and
conscious choice.”

Behind them, the clone female inhaled sharply. She’d
heard Tifara’s words. But her knowledge of cyborgs having free will
was now low on his list of concerns.

“I made a choice.” Death skimmed his lips over
Tifara’s, tasting her sweetness. “I chose you.”

She narrowed her eyes, appearing adorably frustrated
with him. “And you were exiled from the other cyborgs because of
that choice. Oh.” Her mouth rounded. “Shit. They’re here, aren’t
they?” She looked around them. “They’ve come to take you back.”

“They haven’t come to take me back.”

“No, they haven’t,” an achingly familiar voice
confirmed.

“The council sent
you
.” Death turned, placing
his body between his female and the male he once considered to be
his brethren. “That’s why you contacted me.”

He replayed the previous transmission in his
processors. Menace had mentioned Death would require assistance,
that he couldn’t do this alone. He hadn’t stated he would offer
that assistance.

Cyborgs couldn’t lie but they could frame the truth
to deceive others.

“The council didn’t send me.” Menace shook his head.
There were two long black marks on each of his cheeks. One long
black mark covered his model number. “If you hadn’t severed
communications with me, you’d know that.”

If the council didn’t send him, who did? Death
studied the male. “I severed communications with you to prevent you
and other warriors from tracking my location. How did you find
me?”

“You shouldn’t have accessed the battle station’s
database, my friend.” Menace rested his palms on the handles of his
guns. “Crash was monitoring those systems.”

“
He
sent you to kill me.” Death placed his
hands on his guns also.

“He’s your friend,” Tifara murmured, sounding as
betrayed as Death felt. “Why would he want to kill you?”

“Listen to your female, you stubborn bag of bolts.”
Menace’s gaze moved to Tifara. “She—”

“Don’t look at her.” A wave of red-hot fury swept
over Death. He rushed forward, grabbed the stunned cyborg by the
shoulders and flipped him to the ground.

Menace’s back hit packed sand with a loud smack and
air whooshed out of him. “You attacked me.” He glared upward.

“I should kill you.” Death extracted two daggers
from their sheaths.

“Yet you haven’t killed him.” His female hurried to
his side. “And you’re not going to. If you truly wanted to end his
lifespan, you would have already done that.” She placed her hand on
his arm.

The contact dissipated some of his anger. She was
right. He didn’t want to kill his brethren. That was why Menace
continued to live.

“He’s your friend.” Tifara softened her voice. “It
would hurt your heart to harm him.”

“Death doesn’t have friends.” Menace opened his big
mouth.

“You’re not helping the situation.” His female
frowned down at the cyborg. “Did Crash send you to kill Death? Give
us a straight answer.” She waggled her finger. “No evasion
tactics.”

“Crash didn’t send me to kill Death, Death’s clever
female.” Menace’s eyes glowed with respect.

Death stood straighter, his back fusing with pride.
His female was intelligent and strong. The other warrior recognized
that.

“I don’t report to the E model,” the warrior
elaborated. “I’m not his favorite being at the moment. I stole his
female’s beloved ship.”

Death inwardly winced. Safyre, Crash’s female,
considered that ship to be her home.

“And I would never damage your male.” Menace’s words
rang with sincerity. “I owe Death my lifespan and, even though he’s
a stubborn ass and prone to paranoia, he remains my friend.”

“Then why are you here?” Tifara wasn’t done with her
interrogation.

“If he rebels, I rebel.” The warrior’s gaze slanted
to Death. “I told him that.”

“That was a foolish decision.” Death would have made
the same one. He wouldn’t have left Menace to deal with the
situation alone. They were brethren. “You doom yourself to
death.”

“If we’re caught.” Menace grinned. “I plan to avoid
that for as long as possible.”

Both of them knew they’d be caught eventually. The
warrior was giving up his lifespan to assist him.

Death acknowledged that sacrifice with a grunt and
extended his hand. Menace gripped it as Death hefted the cyborg to
his feet and slapped his shoulder so hard, it jostled him.

His clever Tifara, correctly assuming the crisis was
over, scanned the warrior with her modified private viewscreen. “I
see his nanocybotics. He must be exuding pheromone-like aerosols.
Yet I feel no attraction to him. None at all.”

“Ugh.” Menace clutched the area above his heart.
“That hurts.”

“It would hurt more if she felt an attraction,”
Death said dryly, secretly pleased she felt nothing. “She’s my
female.”

“Yes, yes, I’m your female. You’re my big strong
male. Rawr.” She beat her chest with one tiny fist, mocking
him.

Menace, that malfunctioning cyborg, laughed.

Death shook his head. He should have killed his
friend.

“But is my lack of attraction to other cyborgs due
to our unique genetic pairing?” She took a step blindly to the
left.

Death cupped her head, holding her in place,
stopping her pacing. This wasn’t the cave or their ship. The
terrain around them held dangers and his little medic was cognizant
of none of them. He had to keep her by his side.

“Or is my lack of attraction because I already host
your nanocybotics?” Tifara didn’t appear to notice his hand on the
top of her head. She was lost in science again. “Hmmm…”