Defying Death (21 page)

A spirit star sounded like a meteoroid that had
fallen into the planet’s atmosphere, burning to nothing. Death
pressed his lips together, choosing to keep that information to
himself.

“I want Ada-971 to see my ascent.” Ada-972 smiled.
“She’ll know that I’m fine. I’ll be with all of the others who were
created before me. I won’t be alone.”

“I’m injecting you with all of the pain inhibitors
we have left,” Tifara said brusquely, her eyes glimmering with
unshed tears. “You’ll go completely numb but you’ll be able to
talk.”

“I would like to go outside, if that is possible.”
Ada-972 slid her gaze shyly to him. “That will aid in my ascent and
I would like to see the constellations one more time.” She paused.
“From this angle. My view will soon be very different, won’t
it?”

“I’ll carry you outside.” He knew nothing about her
future view. The black nothingness, from his observations,
consisted mostly of ionized hydrogen, not clone spirits, but he
hadn’t yet scanned all of space. He couldn’t be certain.

“You’ll have to touch me and you’ve already agreed
to do so much.” Her gaze was apologetic, the female continuing to
believe a male touching a female was forbidden.

Menace had done more than merely touch her friend.
Death smelled the warrior’s nanocybotics all over the clone female.
He kept that information to himself also, sliding his arms
carefully under Ada-972’s decaying body and lifting her.

Insects scurried away. A damp spot was left on the
makeshift sleeping support her sister had crafted for her. The
putrid scent of rot strengthened.

He carried her into the fading light, their
surroundings bathed in a wash of gray. She gasped at the increase
in temperature, gazing around her, blinking. In the planet
rotations he’d known her, she had never been outside.

Tifara took off her white jacket, removed her
private viewscreen from a pocket, and spread the garment on the
sand. Death set Ada-972 upon it, knowing the sacrifice his little
human had made. That jacket was a symbol of her medic status. He
had cleaned it with extra care during her rest cycles.

Tifara lay down beside her and clasped the female’s
hand. “Tell me about the constellations. What does the original say
about them?”

She was distracting Ada-972, allowing him to do the
task he was assigned. There was no time to delay. Menace and
Ada-971 could return at any moment.

Death rubbed his palm over the muzzle of the gun,
warming the metal. Then he slid it under the clone female,
positioning it between the clavicle and the trapezius muscle. Her
body was in alignment. The weapon was angled toward her heart.

Ada-972 chattered nonsense about clones immortalized
in distant suns and planets, no trepidation in her voice. She must
have been aware of what was about to occur yet she expressed no
concern about it.

The clone female could teach some human warriors
about bravery.

Death ran through his mental checklist one more
time, verifying that the kill should be quick and painless, and he
pressed the trigger.

The gun boomed. Ada-972 jerked, stopping
mid-sentence.

It was over.

Tifara sat, pressed her fingers to the clone
female’s wrists, to her neck, scanned her with the private
viewscreen. “It’s done.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “She’s
dead. We killed her.”

“
I
killed her.” Death holstered his gun,
licked his fingertips and stopped up the small entry wound. The
bleeding immediately ceased. “I pulled the trigger.” He lowered his
head, unable to meet Tifara’s gaze, to see the horror in her
beautiful brown eyes. “I ended her lifespan.”

“Death—”

“I called myself that because that’s what I do,
Tifara, and you shouldn’t ever forget it. I’m a killer, trained to
end lifespans. I
enjoy
ending some lifespans.”

“You didn’t enjoy ending Ada-972’s lifespan.”

No, he didn’t. He fraggin’ hated it, wanted to howl
at the injustice of it. “This won’t be my last death. I’ll end more
lifespans. I’m a killer.”

“Stop saying that.” She flung herself at him. He
caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him to
her. “You kill but you’re not a killer. That’s not who you
are.”

“That
is
who I am.” He would force her to
accept that.

“You’re more than a killer and I’m more than a
medic.” Tifara’s cheeks were wet with tears. “You cared for her. I
did too. That’s why we did this.”

“I’m—”

“Tell me you didn’t care for her.” She gripped his
face, forcing him to look at her. “Gaze into my eyes and tell me
you didn’t care.”

He glared at her, unable to say that. Cyborgs
couldn’t lie.

“You can’t tell me that.” Her eyes flashed with
triumph. “Because you cared for Ada-972.” She stroked his skin with
her soft fingers, her touching easing the knot that had formed in
his gut.

His female wasn’t rejecting him, wasn’t ending their
relationship. She accepted what he had to do and was seeking to
comfort him.

“We did this together.” She leaned against him. “The
two of us are a team, remember?”

“I
will
kill again.” He was a warrior.

“You’ll kill. I’ll lose patients.” His female
nuzzled her head against his jaw. “We don’t have to carry these
burdens by ourselves. We’re no longer alone. We have each
other.”

Did she need his strength as much as he needed hers?
Death threaded his fingers through Tifara’s curls, wishing to lose
himself in those decadent strands, to escape from the harsh
universe for a moment.

“What we did was necessary,” she mumbled into his
neck.

“It was merciful,” he assured her.

“She didn’t feel any pain.”

Considering how many pain inhibitors she’d been
injected with, that was unlikely but he didn’t know that for
certain. “It was quick.” The projectile had struck her heart,
stopping it.

“We should clean her.” Tifara straightened.

They worked together, ensuring there was no trace of
any trauma. Tifara talked to the clone female as though she
remained alive. They positioned her in a seated position, propping
her against a rock. His female tidied Ada-972’s hair, tilted her
face to look up at the constellations above them.

“Come.” Death held out his right hand. “They’re
approaching.”

Menace’s tread was unusually heavy, his voice loud,
the cyborg warning them.

“We said we wouldn’t allow her out of our
sightlines,” Tifara whispered.

“We won’t.” He drew her into the shadows. “We can
see her from here.”

He wrapped his arms around his lush female, holding
her, savoring her musky scent, her gentle curves. She slanted her
body toward his, her breathing ragged. His medic continued to
grieve as they waited.

The sound of Menace’s stomping grew louder. Death’s
lips twisted. The warrior must think him deaf. A human could hear
him.

Ada-971 stepped into the moonlight. Menace followed
closely. He turned his head, met Death’s gaze, nodded. Death nodded
back.

“Ada-972, what are you doing outside?”

They had hidden the trauma too well. The clone
female rushed toward her sister.

Tifara didn’t need to see Ada-971’s sorrow. Death
scooped his female into his arms and carried her away from the
entrance of the cave.

Ada-971 howled behind them, her grief twisting his
stomach.

Tifara squirmed against him, sobbing quietly, the
sound pulling at his big cyborg heart. Menace would comfort his
female. Death had his own female to care for.

“It was a kindness, my female.” He murmured
reassuring words into her hair and carried her up to a rock
outcropping, sensing she didn’t want to return to the ship.

Death sat on the hard stone and cradled her in his
lap, handling her as delicately as he was able, aware of how very
precious this female was to him. Tifara cried, openly expressing
the pain she felt, a pain he shared.

He envied her that release. A lifespan of hiding his
true emotions didn’t allow him to purge them. They’d remain trapped
inside his chest, to be harnessed during the next battle.

There
would
be a next battle. Mayhem hadn’t
yet contacted them. The cyborg council’s chosen warriors would soon
find them.

He’d fight and die. Death gazed up at the dark
sky.

A meteoroid streaked across the blackness, burning
into nothing.

No, not a meteoroid.

A spirit star collecting Ada-972’s spirit.

His friend was no longer damaged, in pain, trapped
in a nonfunctioning body. She was free, would soon be assimilated
into the nothingness, be part of whatever held the constellations
together. She’d never be alone again.

She was at peace, happy.

As he was. Death glanced down at his beautiful
female. The next planet rotation or the one following or perhaps
the one after that would bring battle, killing, death, but this
moment held serenity.

It held love.

Tifara opened
her eyes. She sat in her cyborg’s lap, in the shade of a rock
outcropping. When she’d fallen asleep, they had been sitting on top
of it.

“We stayed here all rest period.” She stretched her
arms and legs, her joints cracking in protest. “That couldn’t have
been comfortable for you.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be.” His dark eyes
glowed.

He turned her until she straddled him. The male was
aroused. The ridge in his body armor pressed against her
fabric-covered mons.

“We’re not fucking under a rock.” She shook her
head. “I need a cleansing cloth.” Her skin was covered with a layer
of sweat and grime.

“You need me.” Death captured her lips. She opened,
allowing him inside her, savoring his metal and male taste.

Nanocybotics fizzed and popped, working constantly
to repair the wear and tear of simply existing, ensuring she never
had to worry about aging, infection, or even embarrassing sunrise
breath.

She splayed her fingers over his scalp. The short
strands of his hair were soft against her palms, a sharp contrast
to the strong set of his chin.

At first glance, her cyborg appeared as unrelenting
as his frame, but there was give in him, a caring in his soul he
fought fiercely to conceal, a yearning in his eyes that she
couldn’t resist.

He did what had to be done, no matter what the price
was to himself, tolerating the pain quietly, without complaint,
without tears.

Yet he hadn’t judged her for crying, for breaking
down. He’d held her and comforted her and now he was kissing
her.

She twined her tongue around his and sucked. Their
gazes met and locked. She smiled, her lips moving against his.

His eyes glittered. He knew what she was
communicating. Her smile was for him and him alone, her happiness
due to her rough tough warrior.

They’d lost a friend, a special soul, but they still
had each other. She wouldn’t hold back, wouldn’t hide what she
felt, what she needed.

She rocked against him. He cupped her ass, kneading
her curves, the sensual massage heating her all over. They taunted
and teased each other, taking their passion to the brink and then
pulling it back.

He plucked at the collar of her flight suit. She was
tempted, so very tempted to relent, but the temperature was rising
and she was still mostly human.

“No fucking under a rock.” She reluctantly drew away
from him. Her hands, out of habit, lowered to her jacket’s
pockets.

Except she no longer had a jacket.

“Where is that private viewscreen you modified for
me?” She frowned.

“It’s back at the entrance of the cave.” He stood,
lifted her over his right shoulder and she yelped. “And we’re not
returning to retrieve it.” Her cyborg swatted her ass. “Not unless
you want our breeding to have witnesses.”

“You’re a savage being.” She smacked his back. “Set
me down.”

“If I was a savage being, we’d be breeding under a
rock right now.” His stride was long, his pace fast.

Someone was in a hurry. She smiled, her heart
light.

Her joy made no sense. They’d suffered a loss, were
stuck on an inhospitable planet, were running out of nutrition
bars, had no pain inhibitors left.

But she was with him. Death cared about her. She
knew he did. She didn’t require the words.

Though they’d be nice to hear.

“Death.” She would be brave, tell him how she felt
first. “I—”

“Fraggin’ hole.” He stopped so abruptly; she almost
toppled off his shoulder. His entire body stiffened.

“What is it?”

“Fate.” Death set her down on a sand dune.

“Fate?” Not this again. “We talked about this. You
don’t believe in fate.”

“That’s too bad, little female, because fate
believes in you.” A warrior dressed in black body armor stepped
forward. Another warrior followed. They looked very similar except
the first had brilliant blue eyes and the second’s eyes were
brown.

They were both cyborgs, their model numbers starting
with K inked on their cheeks, and they were both ready for battle,
daggers twirling in their hands.

Neither of them was as impressive as her cyborg.

“She’s my little female.” Death stepped protectively
in front of her, daggers in his hands also.

Shit. She’d left her gun at the cave. Tifara slid
two daggers out of her cyborg’s back sheaths.

“We know she’s yours, warrior.” The second cyborg
bumped his shoulders against his brethren’s. “We smell your scent
all over her. But we were given a mission. Retrieve the medic from
the battle station.”

“Imagine our surprise when she wasn’t there.” The
first cyborg grinned. “It wasn’t a wasted trip.”

“No, it wasn’t.” The two males exchanged a heated
look. “But we were given a mission and we plan to complete it.”
Their attention returned to her. “The medic is coming with us. You
can take up your grievance with the cyborg council.”