Kaitlyn O'Connor Book 4 Rules of Engagement

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

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Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Cyberevolution IV:

Rules of Engagement

Kaitlyn O'Connor

© copyright by Kaitlyn O'Connor, January 2008
Cover Art by Eliza Black, © copyright January 2008
ISBN 978-1-60394—
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places

are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with
fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely
coincidence.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

CONTENTS

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight

* * * *

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter One

Police work could be tedious, especially on stakes outs, but

this went beyond the pale. Zoe realized she was well past
bored, also beyond uneasy. She'd always been a nervous
space traveler, and that was when she was traveling coach on
a commercial line. If anyone had ever asked her if there was
any circumstance that would make her consider traveling
solo, and well beyond the frontier, she would've told them to
be sure and send her for a psyche evaluation if she
announced such a thing.

"What the hell am I doing out here?" she muttered to

herself for the umpteenth time.

"You are searching for your sister, who was kidnapped by

rogue cyborgs," the computer responded promptly.

Zoe glared at the console. "Half-sister," she muttered after

a significant pause while she tried to decide if responding to
the computer constituted space dementia.

"You are searching for your half-sister, who...."
"Shut up!" Zoe said irritably. She drummed her fingers on

the console for a few minutes. "How far are we from the
nearest habitable planet?"

Silence greeted the question.
Zoe rolled her eyes. The computer, naturally, was

equipped with AI. Unfortunately, even with artificial
intelligence, it tended to take everything literally. If being
alone for so long didn't tip her over the edge, she thought the

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

damned computer was going to drive her insane. "Computer
respond!" she snapped.

"The last habitable planet surveyed is seventy two hours,

thirty three minutes, ten seconds earth standard time, from
the current position of the Evening Star 9120, traveling at full
hyper-drive. Folding would reduce the estimated time to
reach the habitable planet to twenty hours, five minutes,
thirty seven seconds. In the event of damage to the Evening
Star 9120, it would be necessary to re-calculate the time
required to reach the habitable planet according to the drive
status."

Zoe narrowed her eyes. Unfortunately, the computer

hadn't been programmed to react to a glare. "Didn't I tell you
that I wanted you to survey everything and search for
anything even remotely habitable?"

"I was ordered to survey worlds we passed close enough

to to utilize long range sensors."

"And?" Zoe demanded, holding onto her patience with an

effort.

"The last habitable planet...."
"What about around us? In front of us?"
"Would you like for me to do that now?"
"Now would be a good time, yes," Zoe snapped, infuriated

to discover, after nearly three months of traveling, no less,
that the damned computer had interpreted her command to
mean only the bodies they passed. If she hadn't known
better, she would've suspected the thing was deliberately
trying to thwart her efforts to find Bronte. Slumping in the
pilot's seat, she resumed drumming her fingers on the

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

console, trying to bring her irritation under control. It was
singularly pointless to rail at the computer, although a
rousing good argument right about now might help to blow off
some of her steam.

She missed her partner, and that was saying something

because he rarely had more than two words to say to her—
'let's go' and 'want donuts?'.

Truthfully she supposed she didn't miss him nearly as

much as she missed the life she'd flushed down the toilet to
come on this wild goose chase.

She didn't even know Bronte. She didn't understand why

she'd felt this compulsion to throw everything away that she'd
worked so hard for and go after her.

She'd always meant to meet her half sister—at some point.
She'd told herself that for years anyway, almost ever since

she'd discovered her biological father—the randy two-timing
bastard—had been contracted and already expecting a child
when he'd been pumping her mother.

Well, not quite that long, she supposed. She'd been eight

years old before she had actually discovered her background,
not that it had required any sleuthing on her part. Her mother
had gone ballistic when the old bastard's woman had died and
she'd discovered he still didn't mean to contract with her.
She'd spilled the whole tale then, and Zoe had discovered
that, not only did she have a name and face to put with
'father', but she had a sister, too, one that was only a few
months older than she was.

By the time she'd gotten into her teens, she'd been too

resentful over the fact that her father refused to acknowledge

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

her to look kindly upon the 'accepted' one. At the same time,
she'd yearned to get to know her. She'd spent her entire
childhood wishing she had a sibling, desperately in need of a
playmate and friend that would be there when no one else
was.

There'd been no chance of that, though. Her father had

taken care to keep his two families separate. The closest
she'd come to meeting her sister was a chance glimpse now
and then while she was growing up. She'd lost track of Bronte
completely for years, until she'd shown up to take over the
old man's practice.

That shouldn't have bothered her, but it did. Even though

it was completely logical and understandable that Bronte,
who'd studied to be a doctor, would step in their father's
shoes, and yet it had resurrected all the old feelings of having
been shunted aside, the feelings of unworthiness.

She'd let those feelings keep her away, and now she'd

missed her chance to get to know her sister.

She pushed those thoughts aside. She wasn't going to just

accept defeat.

It had been a blow when she'd been called in to investigate

the abduction and discovered it was Bronte that had been
taken. The rogue bastards had taken her with them, though.
She didn't know why, but she knew damned well there
wouldn't have been any reason to take Bronte if they'd meant
to kill her.

She was alive—somewhere.
If it had been anyone but Bronte, she would've accepted

that it was a closed case, impossible to bring to a satisfactory

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conclusion. Officially, she'd done just that, closed it on orders
from her superiors. On a personal level, it sure as hell hadn't
been a closed matter, however, and when she'd found out
about the reward the company was offering for information
leading to the stronghold of the rogue cyborgs, she'd taken
leave from the force, sold everything she had to come up with
the money she needed to pursue the case....

And here she was in the middle of no fucking where,

running out of patience because she could see she wasn't
going to crack this case and find her sister.

In a matter of a few weeks, the company she'd leased the

Evening Star from was going to report it stolen, and that was
the least of her worries. She'd taken two month's leave, and
she'd been gone for three already—no job. She'd sold
everything she owned to finance her jaunt—which meant she
was flat broke because failure also meant she wasn't going to
get a dime of the reward money she thought she'd get to put
her life back together.

"Shit!" she growled, surging out of her seat and prowling

the small cockpit area of the Evening Star. "They've got to be
out here somewhere! They need basically the same things we
do, damn it to hell! It isn't like they could just live on a rock!"

Ok, so technically, they weren't 'alive' to begin with, but

they'd been designed and manufactured by humans and she
knew from studying the information on the 'borgs that they
had been constructed from almost as much biological material
as inorganic and that meant, as far as she could see, that
they needed a lot of the same things to sustain them. She'd
seen the vids of the abduction. There was no deterioration of

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

the skin or flesh that sheathed their titanium chassis. She
might not be a scientist, but it didn't take that to figure out
that the organic materials would've been damaged if they'd
been living under conditions detrimental to humans.

That comforted her because she knew it meant Bronte had

a better chance of staying alive until she could rescue her. It
also limited the options insofar as where the rogues were
holed up.

She still didn't quite get that.
She wasn't buying the story the company had spun on it.
She'd watched the security vids and she damned sure

didn't see anything, beyond the kidnapping itself, that pointed
to 'crazed'. They'd planned and executed a virtually flawless
abduction.

She wasn't buying the 'wrong place, wrong time' scenario.

Bronte had been clueless. They could've gotten in and out
and she would never have tumbled to what they were doing.

It didn't escape her that they took Bronte after the alarm

had been tripped and the private security force had arrived on
the scene. Maybe they'd taken her as a hostage, thinking that
would stop them from trying to shoot them down, but not
only did something like that require logical thinking, but they
also hadn't made any attempt to utilize her as a hostage,
hadn't tried to contact the ships firing on them at all.

They hadn't used her as a shield when they were fleeing

across the roof either. They'd been protecting her from fire.

She stopped pacing when she reached a view port, staring

out into the vast ocean of space. She didn't believe it was
wishful thinking to interpret the abduction as she had,

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

although she was aware that she wasn't as completely
subjective as she needed to be. There were just too many
things that pointed to a predetermined abduction to dismiss
it.

The cyborgs had hit the med center with the intention of

taking 'a' doctor, if not Bronte in particular. They'd gone
straight to her offices, emptied it, and taken her, as well.
They hadn't even attempted to access any of the other
offices. There was nothing even remotely random about it,
regardless of what those assholes at the company said to the
contrary.

The question was, why? Why Bronte? Why a doctor at all

when they were nothing but machines? Why hadn't they hit
the company and made off with records regarding their
construction? Why not carry off a tech from the company if
they thought they needed something?

"I have determined that there is a sixty percent probability

that there is a habitable star system just beyond range of my
sensors," the computer announced abruptly, breaking into
Zoe's thoughts.

* * * *

"I have been thinking," Kameron announced abruptly.
Damien, who had been perusing the communications from

their home world, lifted his head and turned to stare at
Kameron blankly, his dark brows drawn together in a frown of
puzzlement as he scanned his memory for any indication that
Kameron had been speaking to him before, any clue of what
Kameron might have been thinking about.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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He drew a blank. He could not recall that Kameron had

said anything at all to him for several day cycles and the last
communication had been regarding the length of time they
had until they were relieved of sentry duty and would be
allowed to return home. He was fairly certain that they had
finished that conversation.

"I have been reviewing the available females," Kameron

continued before Damien could respond, "and I have decided
that I will court Dalia. She has only two males in her
household."

"Reuel's woman?" Damien responded doubtfully.
Kameron glared at him. "The law says she can take four.

Reuel can not object."

"He will remove your head from your shoulders," Damien

disputed. "Why else do you think Dalia has only two partners?
She is beautiful, and a hunter besides being a proven
breeder."

"By law, he can not object," Kameron retorted, his face

taking on a belligerent expression.

Damien stared at Kameron while he considered the

situation. After a few moments, a memory surfaced. It
flickered at the edges of his consciousness for a few moments
more before it emerged completely. "Is she not the hunter
who nearly killed you when we were on Rialto?"

Kameron's swarthy complexion took on a reddish hue. His

frown deepened. "She did not even come close to terminating
me," he said stiffly.

"You came away from that battle with two holes in you and

a broken arm," Damien reminded him.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"Exactly!" Kameron agreed. "Nothing life threatening. She

terminated the two who were with me. I escaped while she
was occupied with them."

Damien nodded, then frowned again. "Do you think she

will recall that she battled you in the past?"

Kameron shrugged. "If she does, it is certain to make a

good impression upon her that she did not succeed in
terminating me. There are not many who have faced her in
battle and walked away from it."

Damien considered that and finally nodded again. "A

female would not respect a male she could best in a fight. It
says that in the mating manual. 'Females will only agree to
breed with strong males'."

A look of uneasiness flickered across Kameron's features.

"There must be more to it than that."

Damien shrugged. "It also says that you must be

'attractive' to the female and find 'favor'."

Kameron pursed his lips. "What do you suppose they

meant by that?"

"That is the 'courtship' part," Damien responded, nodding

decisively.

Kameron glared at him. "I have accessed the manual, as

well," he retorted testily. "It seemed to me that the female
must find the male attractive, first, before she will even allow
courtship. How is one to determine that?"

Damien stared at him blankly for several moments,

considering it, and then shrugged. "I am not certain." He
reviewed the file for anything that might explain it. "I must

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

suppose that a male can only determine that if the female
allows him to court her."

Kameron shoved to his feet and began to prowl the bridge

restlessly. "It also says that a female will study the male with
interest if she finds him attractive," he growled. "I have not
noted that any of the females study the cyborgs with interest,
have you? They are far too busy studying the hunters. How
did the others get a female? That is what I would like to
know!"

"Gideon CS46721 and his men, Jerico CS98300, and

Gabriel CS61167 have contracted with a human female."

Kameron jolted to a halt and swiveled around to stare at

Damien, his jaw sliding to half mast. "A human female?" he
echoed after a prolonged moment of disbelieving silence.

"It is in the news dispatches," Damien said.
Kameron surged to the console and shoved Damien out of

the way. "Where?" he demanded.

Damien glared at him when he'd gotten to his feet again,

but finally shrugged. "They were in route to our world. It was
the group that was sent on the mission to extract a doctor."

Kameron flicked a distracted glare at him. "Cyborgs," he

muttered. "Why would a human female accept Cyborgs when
even the Cyborg females favor the hunters?"

Damien shrugged, although Kameron wasn't looking at

him. "Mayhap they forced her to sign the contracts?" he
guessed.

Kameron turned to glare at him. "It says right here that

she accepted them!" he said, stabbing a finger at the vid
screen. "She was assured that she would be protected if they

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had used coercion to get her to agree, and she accepted
them. She even claimed affection for them!"

Shoving to his feet, Kameron began to pace again. "They

are not more handsome than I," he muttered under his
breath. "I am a series 45. I can not believe that they would
have evolved faster than I, so it can not be that they have a
better understanding of the courtship process."

"Gideon CS46721 has yellow hair," Damien pointed out.

"Mayhap the female found that appealing?"

Kameron halted, staring at Damien for several moments

while he accessed his memory banks. Finally, he shook his
head. "Jerico CS98300 and Gabriel CS61167 are dark haired
as we are. It can not be that. There are as many of dark hair
who have a female as there are who are fair."

Damien frowned, reluctant to give up his theory,

particularly when it soothed his own smarting ego to consider
that the fact that he hadn't managed to catch the interest of a
female might have to do with coloring. In fact, the more he
thought about it, the more certain he was that it must be
something like that. Physically, aside from coloring—and of
course a variation in facial features depending upon their
genetic donors—there wasn't a great deal of difference in any
of the cyborgs. They had been designed to be physically
appealing since the company had wanted to insure versatility
in their end use, but it was considered most likely that they
would be sold to the government to be used for soldiers—
which, in point of fact, they had been. That being the case,
they had been designed to be physically intimidating, ranging

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

in height from six foot two to six foot five inches and heavily
muscled.

They were all prime physical specimens. All documentation

pointed to that conclusion, so there should not be any reason
why one cyborg would be more appealing than another to the
female—unless it had to do with the coloring.

"I am certain it must have been the yellow hair," he

informed Kameron. "They work as a team. Gideon took
point—secured the female—and then she accepted them all
because they were a squad and she saw the logic of
contracting with the squad since she would have been
required to accept at least two."

"It was not the yellow hair!" Kameron growled. "And

human females have no logic, so she would not merely have
accepted because it was the logical thing to do!"

Damien planted his fists on his hips in a belligerent stance.

"What is your theory then?" he demanded.

Kameron eyed the antagonistic stance Damien had taken.

"I do not have a theory ... yet. I am still collating the data,"
he snarled.

"If you do not have a theory of your own," Damien said in

a low, menacing voice, "then why have you dismissed mine?"

"Because it is not logical!"
"Emotions are not logical!" Damien shot back at him.
"Attraction is not an emotion! It is a physical and chemical

reaction between a male and female that denotes
compatibility in breeding on an unconscious level! In other
words, instinct—because the human is an animal and animals
are instinctually drawn to certain attributes that they

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

subconsciously wish to pass to their off-spring! It states that
clearly in the manual!"

"Ah ha!" Damien shot back at him triumphantly. "As you

say—physical! And, physically, we are all much the same
except for a variation in the color of the hair and eyes!"

Kameron studied his companion through narrowed eyes.

"My face is not the same as yours. In that respect we are as
different from one another as the humans are. And I must
say, my gene donor was undoubtedly far more handsome
than yours!"

"There is nothing wrong with my face!" Damien snarled. "It

is as symmetrical as yours!"

"Except the nose," Kameron muttered, dismissing the

argument and turning to pace again.

Damien lifted a hand to examine his nose self-consciously

since there was no reflective surface nearby to check it.
"What is wrong with my nose?"

Kameron shrugged. "Aside from the fact it is nearly a

millimeter too long for your features to be completely
symmetrical? Nothing. Mine, on the other hand, is precisely
the right length, besides being aquiline, which is considered
both noble and aristocratic by humans."

Damien dropped his hand and glared at Kameron.
"Your mouth is not entirely symmetrical either."
Damien ground his teeth together. "I suppose your mouth

is also aristocratic?" he said in a credible attempt at sarcasm,
although it seemed to pass right over Kameron's head.

"No. It is considered sensual."
"By whom?" Damien growled.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"It is in the manual—the part where it describes the more

desirable traits in a mate."

"Since you do not have a mate anymore than I, then I will

assume that your comprehension of the data is far below one
hundred percent."

"Are you suggesting that my processors are faulty?"

Kameron demanded in a low, dangerous growl.

Damien smirked at him. "I do not think that I suggested

any such thing." He ducked the fist Kameron swung at him
and landed a quick jab to Kameron's perfect—no sensual—lips
in retaliation, marring their perfection nicely. They'd just
grabbed each other around the throat when the sensor alarm
went off.

Both men froze, for a handful of seconds certain that

they'd inadvertently slammed into something while they were
tussling.

"Proximity breach," the computer intoned. "Buoy number

8-7-0."

Kameron and Damien both shot a quick glance at the

console before they looked at one another again.

"A craft? Out here?"
"Replacement crew?" Damien hazarded a guess.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Two

"The replacement crew is not due for another six weeks,"

Kameron retorted, releasing his hold on Damien as Damien
released him and lurched toward his station.

"Outer quadrant," Damien verified when he'd located the

buoy on his star chart. "Not one of ours ... unless...."

"Not one of ours," Kameron confirmed grimly. "There have

been no authorized flights in that vicinity."

"Switching to buoy sensors. It is a small craft—private, not

military."

"Scout drone?"
"Negative. The sensors are picking up a life-form."
"Fuck!" Kameron snarled. "How did it get so close without

tripping any of the other buoys? You are certain it is not a
drone?"

"Out of range now," Damien responded. "It is moving too

fast—heading our way. There was no more than a
nanosecond that the sensor read it, but I am certain there is
a life-form aboard."

Kameron frowned. "It would not be someone lost—not this

far out. Arm the missiles. It can only be human and that can
not be good news. Where there is one...."

Before he could finish the thought another buoy signaled a

proximity alert. The two men exchanged grim looks.
"Protocol?" Damien asked.

"Disable or destroy if they cross the dead zone. Get a lock

on it. I am tracking a half dozen crafts 'ghosting' the lead."

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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He worked his console. "Cloaking shields up. Let us try to get
around behind them."

"Charlie, brava, alpha," Damien said into the

communicator, "this is tango, tango, beta. We have company.
About a half dozen guests. Acknowledge."

"Mark," Kameron responded.
Damien glanced down at the clock on his console. "ETA the

new position?"

"We will be in position before they can respond."
"Should we hold?"
Kameron shook his head. "Protocol is specific. If they cross

that line we engage. Picking up four more ghosts."

Damien's lips tightened. "We will have a war on our hands

now."

Kameron nodded. "Even if we manage to take them all

out, they will have our vector. Their last known position will
have them at our doorstep. Weapons hot. Locking on
targets."

"Tango, tango, beta this is Charlie, brava, alpha. Confirm."
Damien glanced at Kameron, one dark brow lifted. "At

least a round dozen now. Whoever their scout is, he is good.
He has led them right to us. One of ours?"

Damien shook his head. "Reprogrammed? I do not think

that. There are none who know our position who would allow
themselves to be taken alive." He returned his attention to his
communicator. "Charlie, brava, alpha—confirm a dozen
guests. Set to engage."

"Locked on targets," Kameron announced. "They will cross

the line in ten, nine, eight...."

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"Kameron?" Damien said in a strange voice. "I am picking

up something on the scout."

"...three, two, one.... missile away!"
"It is a female."
Kameron's head snapped around so fast he felt a twinge of

whiplash. "Fuck!" he snarled, leaping to his feet and racing
down the length of the craft to the particle transporter. "Give
me five seconds after I hit the deck and snatch me back!"

* * * *

Zoe felt a ripple with her sixth sense, the prickle of the fine

hairs on the back of her neck. Even as she jolted out of her
seat and whirled to face the threat, however, a powerful pair
of arms locked around her, tightening and slamming her
against what felt like a block wall. Her reaction was instinctive
and instantaneous, and even so she had only just managed to
lift her foot from the deck, aiming her knee at his groin, when
she blacked out. Consciousness returned with a disorienting
wave of dizziness, partly, she thought, because she was in
motion even as she regained consciousness and the motion
had nothing to do with her own steam. The man who'd
grabbed her, she dimly realized, was running with her.

A jolt traveled all the way up her spine as the man

carrying her paused long enough to abruptly plant her in a
seat and then leapt away. "Strap in!" he barked at her as he
dropped into a forward seat. "Reacquiring targets."

Zoe gaped at the man, struggling to 'reacquire' her senses.

Her training had deserted her, however. Even with a
conscious push to penetrate the shock that had enveloped

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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her, all she could seem to do was to stare around herself,
dumbfounded, trying to grasp that the craft she was in wasn't
the same one she'd been in five seconds ago.

The two huge men with long black hair would've been a

dead giveaway even if not for the fact that the vessel she now
found herself in was barebones and clearly military in nature.

Abruptly the word target rang through mind. "Target?" she

managed to get out in a croaking whisper.

The second man, the one who hadn't grabbed her,

whipped a penetrating glance in her direction. His straight
black brows snapped together over the bridge of his nose.
"Strap in!"

Zoe gaped at him. By the time resentment managed to

filter through her stunned surprise, he'd returned his
attention to his console and missed the dagger glare she sent
him. She shot to her feet as her mind, slowly chewing on the
clue 'target', finally arrived at a dismaying conclusion. "Holy
shit! Don't you dare...!"

A brief flare of light in the darkness of space made her

break off.

"That was my ship!" she gasped in disbelief, her life

flashing before her eyes. "Oh my god! You've blown up my
ship! And it was a lease! What the hell were you thinking?"

She discovered that neither man had done more than

glance in her direction and her shocked anger gave way to
pure rage. "You bastards! Do you have any idea how fucking
much that thing cost?"

"Acquiring new targets."

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"Bogey heading our way. I think they locked on us when I

dropped the shields to transport you."

The man nearest her, the one who'd snatched her off her

ship, shot a hand out, grabbed her wrist and jerked. She
sprawled across his lap. "Evasive maneuvers!"

Zoe wasn't certain what she would've done if she'd had a

chance to react to his highhandedness. Before she could even
fully assimilate the fact that she was sprawled across his lap,
however, the craft shot into motion so fast the artificial
gravity didn't have the chance to compensate and she was
plastered against him. His hand, roughly the size of a dinner
plate, was planted firmly in the middle of her back, and she
suspected that was the only reason she wasn't flattened
against the back wall of the bridge.

The moment the drag against her subsided, she began

struggling to free herself from his grasp. The hand in the
middle of her back disappeared. Before she could
congratulate herself on winning her freedom, however, the
same hand clamped around her waist to hold her as he
surged to his feet. He planted her in the seat she'd so lately
vacated, grabbed the harnesses and quickly strapped her in.
"Stay!" he ordered, pointing a thick finger at her nose.

He'd dropped into his seat again before her shock wore off

sufficiently to react.

She glared at his profile. "Just what the hell is going on

here?" she demanded. "If this is some sort of military...."

She broke off as she glanced out the view port again and

saw several more flashes of light and a considerable amount
of floating debris—too much, she thought, for her small craft

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

alone. What sort of military exercise would use live rounds?
Actual ships? This far beyond the frontier?

Slowly, it filtered into her mind that what she was

watching was not a mock fight, but a deadly earnest one.
Dragging her gaze from the battle, she studied the two men
for the first time, really looked at them. The easy answers
that her mind had slipped into her subconscious to account
for her situation crumbled to dust. Their hair wasn't long
because they'd been on some remote outpost too long to get
a hair cut. Their hair was half way down their backs and didn't
look as if it had ever been shorn into a military cut—not in
years, certainly.

They weren't running around in their skivvies because they

were stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and didn't have
to worry about uniforms. They weren't wearing skivvies at all.
She didn't know what to call what they were wearing, but it
barely covered their privates. She could see bare skin all the
way up to the cord that secured the thing around their waists.

She could almost feel the cogs in her brain click, click,

clicking as she dragged her gaze from the two men and
looked around the craft again, realizing abruptly that it was
not a craft that had been built for the military but rather a
private craft that had been modified for military use. Fear
formed a hard knot in her belly for the first time since she'd
been snatched from her craft, almost completely ousting the
shock that had dulled her senses before.

"Oh my fucking god! Cyborgs!"
Both men flicked a hard glare in her direction. It was

enough to galvanize her. Not enough to provide her with a

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

lick of sense, unfortunately. Instinct took over. Her brain
formed only one thought—escape. She clawed at her
restraints, managing to rip free of them before either cyborg
realized she'd lost her mind. She didn't manage much more
than that. Before she'd done more than leap to her feet, the
bully that had abducted her surged out of his seat and
grabbed her. Her instincts kicked in again but less effectively
this time. She bucked and kicked and slung her arms wildly,
to no avail. He'd snatched her off her feet, making most of
her efforts completely ineffectual. He shoved her into the seat
again. After a brief struggle, he managed to catch her flying
fists and straddled her lap to hold her in place. Gasping for
breath, she glared at him furiously, more infuriated by the
fact that he wasn't even breathing hard when she felt like she
was going to pass out from her own efforts.

"Woman! You will get us all killed!" he snarled.
Before Zoe could think of a suitable retort, the ship

lurched, pitching him backwards off of her. Unfortunately, he
still had hold of her wrists and when he hit the deck, she
landed hard enough on top of him to knock the breath out of
her. It took the fight out of her long enough he managed to
get them both up, shove her into her seat again, and grab the
restraints. This time, however, he knotted them around her
instead of using the buckles to fasten the harness.

He stood as soon as he'd finished tying her to her seat and

managed to take one step toward his own seat before
something slammed into the craft hard enough it sent him
flying backwards. He hit the rear wall of the bridge hard
enough he left a full body impression in the metal. Zoe was

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

still gaping at the dents in the wall when he staggered past
her, dropped into his seat and dragged his own safety
harness on.

Chaos had erupted around her in the few seconds that had

ticked past like the slow beat of a metronome instead of real
time. Time bent. It seemed to take forever to drag her gaze
from the dents in the rear wall and turn to stare at the man
who'd made them. As her gaze lit on him, however, she saw
that he seemed to be moving at twice normal speed while she
was trapped at half speed. She stared at him without
comprehension for many moments before she turned her
head with an effort and studied the other man—cyborg. His
movements were a blur of speed, as well.

"We are hit."
"Leaking O2."
"Seal the rear hatch."
"Can we make it home?"
"Negative."
"Jump?"
"Not that far."
Both men turned to stare at her for a long moment.
"C980?" her abductor asked.
The one with the straight, black brows shrugged. "We will

know in a moment."

The blackout caught her unaware. It flickered through her

mind that they'd folded. She was shaken back into conscious.
It took her several moments to realize that it wasn't someone
shaking her. The entire ship was shimmying so hard it felt as
if it was going to shake her bones to powder. She opened her

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

eyes, briefly, then closed them again when she discovered
she was being shaken so violently she couldn't focus her
eyes. A wave of nausea followed the brief attempt to see
what was going on. Tendrils of fear crept through her
awareness as her brain slowly tried to determine what was
happening. Piecing together the conversation she'd heard
between the cyborgs just before she blacked out with the
frenzied rattling of the ship around them, she realized they
were caught in the pull of gravity of a planet. Her personal
experience with space flight wasn't vast, but she'd been out
enough times to know that the entry didn't even come close
to being routine.

Then, too, one of them had said they were hit. Obviously it

wasn't anything minor.

Which was worse? Imploding in space? Or being splattered

on some ball of dirt light years from home? Not that she had
a choice in the matter. Apparently, they thought the odds
were better in trying to land the crippled craft.

They were cyborgs. They would behave according to logic,

wouldn't they?

That thought almost cheered her until she listened to the

few clipped words they exchanged.

"We are coming in hot."
"The thrusters?"
"Non responsive."
"Fuck!"
Zoe jumped at the expletive, her eyes popping open of

their own accord at the fury threading the single word in time
for her to see her abductor throw off his safety hardness and

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

stagger past her. Dropping to the deck, he caught hold of a
recessed latch and then paused, lifting his head to stare at
the other cyborg. "Damien, is there pressure in the lower
hatch?"

"Affirmative," Damien responded after a brief pause.
Wrenching the hatch open, the cyborg dropped from sight.

She heard noises below, which her mind deciphered as the
cyborg battling his way to whatever controls he'd gone to
repair.

Then again, maybe not.
The hammering ceased after a few moments. "Try again!"
The voice was muffled by distance, the scream of the air

streaming past the hull, and the teeth jarring rattles of
everything around them. Zoe's heart slammed against her
ribcage and tried to beat its way out of her chest as the ship
bucked abruptly. It was followed by a loud crash below and a
good deal more cursing. When the cyborg reappeared in the
hatch, blood was running down his forehead from a wound at
the edge of his hairline. Zoe stared blankly at the bright red
trail, wondering a little wildly if she'd been wrong and they
weren't cyborgs after all.

He barely glanced at her as he staggered past her again

and resumed his seat. "What have got?"

"Seventy five percent."
"Can we set it down in one piece?"
The cyborg he'd called Damien shrugged. "I calculate the

odds at roughly 87.3 percent."

"In our favor?"
"Affirmative."

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"Any maneuverability?"
"Not much."
"Then there is not much point in trying to find an ideal

landing spot."

Zoe jumped when the cyborg abruptly leaned in her

direction, then discovered that he'd reached behind her.
Twisting her head, she saw he'd brought up a topical map on
the vid screen behind her. "At our current trajectory we are
looking at jungle and mountains," he muttered. "Three
degrees would give us a plateau."

He leaned away again, lifting his arm. Zoe was just about

to drag in a breath of relief when he caught the knot of her
restraints in one hand. The muscles along his arm bunched as
he tugged at it. Apparently satisfied, he withdrew his hand
and returned his attention to his console.

"Charlie, bravo, alpha this is tango, tango, beta. We have

depleted our weaponry, dispatched five unwelcome guests,
sustained damage to the vessel. We are setting down on
C980. Out."

Zoe squeezed her eyes closed, wondering how they could

be so damned calm about the fact that they were about to
crash.

But then they were cyborgs, she reminded herself.
She realized after a moment that they didn't sound calm at

all. They sounded like professionals, holding their emotions in
check to do their job. Emotion threaded the words regardless
and that thoroughly confused her. Were they men? Or
machines?

"Kameron—give me a reading."

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

She opened her eyes again to stare at Kameron—her

abductor—realizing abruptly that he'd snatched her from her
craft mere moments before they'd blown it up.

Why would do that if they were cyborgs?
Didn't that defy logic?
She must have been close, too close, but why blow up her

ship and not blow her up with it?

And who the hell were the other 'guests'?

* * * *

Every muscle in Zoe's body clenched reflexively as the ship

slammed into the ground. The scream of metal against rock
filled her ears deafeningly. Terror clawed at her mind as the
craft continued to slide and visions of dropping off the side of
the plateau filled her mind. Her heart and breath were so
labored with fright by the time the ship finally ceased to skid
along the rock that she felt as if she would pass out or throw
up.

She felt like doing both. Blackness swarmed around her as

she struggled with her frantic heartbeat and ragged breaths,
trying to bring both under control. She felt a tug at her
restraints. The sound of tearing cut through her drumming
heartbeats in her ears and then she felt hands pulling at her,
lifting her. Faint and completely disoriented, she wasn't
certain if it was the tug of unconsciousness that prevented
her from seeing or her heavy eyelids, but all her mind
registered with the effort to force her eyelids up was darkness
and a dizzying kaleidoscope of images.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Were they on the dark side of the planet, she wondered as

she rested her cheek against the hard surface she was
cradled against?

She clutched at him instinctively to catch herself as she

was lowered, releasing her grip on the shoulder she'd caught
only when she felt a soft, yielding surface beneath her back.

"I can't see," she murmured, trying to keep the thread of

panic from her voice.

"The ship is damaged. In any case, they may have

followed us when we jumped."

Zoe frowned as she felt his hands moving over her, but his

touch was impersonal as he tested her arms and legs and ran
his hands lightly over her body and she realized he was
checking her for injury. "They who?"

He was silent for so long she thought he wouldn't answer.

"Those who came with you."

"But ... nobody came with me!" she objected indignantly.

"I came alone."

"You expect me to believe your lies when we are here

because our hull was breached by a missile launched from
one the ships following you?"

His voice was grim, accusing. It roused a strengthening

surge of anger. She shoved his hands away and sat up. "I
don't give a rat's ass what you believe! Who the hell are
you?"

"I am Kameron CS45001."
Zoe stared at the darkness where his face was, trying to

penetrate it, struggling with the fear that instantly knotted

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

her stomach at his confirmation of her worst fears. "A
cyborg!"

"Yes."
Despite her fear, her mind instantly leapt to Bronte at his

confirmation. "Where the hell is my sister, you son-of-a-
bitch?"

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Three

Stunned surprise suspended all thought processes for a

handful of moments while Kameron stared at her. "Your
sister?" he echoed blankly.

"Bronte! Don't you dare try to tell me you don't know,

damn it! I know you cyborgs took her!"

Kameron sat back on his heels and studied the woman. His

night vision was not sufficient for him to study her as he
would have liked to, but it was certainly adequate enough to
read her expressions. Unless she was very good at
subterfuge, both her surprise at his accusation and her anger
were genuine. "You are Doctor Bronte's sister?" he asked in a
voice he hardly recognized as his own, scarcely aware, if it
came to that, that he'd spoken the question aloud since her
announcement had thrown him into complete chaos.

"Kameron! We have trouble! Is the woman injured?"
"Not that I can determine," Kameron said slowly, rising to

his feet. "Company?"

"Affirmative. It will not take them long to locate us."
He studied the woman a moment longer and finally turned

on his heel and followed Damien from the cabin.

Zoe felt her jaw drop in disbelief as she heard their

departure. From the noises emanating from the front of the
ship, it sounded as if they were trashing what was left of the
craft and it occurred to her that they were grabbing whatever
they could quickly lay hand to.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

It also occurred to her, forcefully, that they had no

intention of taking her with them. If they had, they wouldn't
have left her, would they?

Rolling off the bunk, she found her way to the door of the

cabin by waving her arms in front of her until she
encountered the wall and then feeling along it until she found
the opening. She didn't know how they could see a damned
thing. She couldn't see anything but deeper shadows within
shadows. She could only follow their movements by the noise
they were making. "I demand that you take me to my sister!"

One of the cyborgs stopped. The other continued as if she

hadn't spoken. She could tell by the cessation of half the
noise. Somehow, she knew it was Kameron who had ignored
her and Damien who'd stopped, and that he was staring at
her. "Who is her sister?"

"She says that she is Bronte's sister."
"I am Bronte's sister!" she snapped indignantly.
"Gideon's Bronte? The human female doctor?"
"What do you mean, Gideon's Bronte? Is that the one that

took her?"

"Come," Kameron said, ignoring the question. Before Zoe

could decide whether he had included her in that command,
Damien dispelled the notion.

"We are leaving her?"
"She will slow us down. Her people will come for her."
In her haste to follow them as they opened a hatch and

exited the craft, Zoe tripped over something lying in the floor
and nearly sprawled out. Cussing under her breath, she
hobbled after them, discovering once she'd reached the gang

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

plank they'd lowered that it was actually a good bit lighter
outside than inside the vessel—not surprising since the craft
was like a cave and it wasn't completely dark outside.

"You are not leaving me!" she said when she'd paused in

the hatchway to get her bearings.

Damien threw a glance at her over his shoulder, but

Kameron didn't even slow up. It was Kameron who
responded, however. "Your people are coming. Stay with the
vessel. They will find you."

Zoe trotted down the gang plank. "I don't know or care

who's coming, damn it! I've spent three months wandering
around bumfuck nowhere and every dime I have—had to my
name to find my sister, and I'm not going back without her!"

Kameron stopped so abruptly and whirled to face her that

she damned near plowed into him. There was just enough
light to see that he was thoroughly pissed off and damned
scary looking. "She is not here ... and she would not return
with you if you found her. She has contracted with Gideon,
Jerico, and Gabriel. She is their woman now."

Zoe gaped at him. Slowly, angry disbelief usurped her

shocked dismay. "You expect me to believe she willingly
contracted with ... with a pack of cyborgs? Well, I don't!" she
said forthrightly. "I want to see her—talk to her."

Kameron hunched his shoulders and lowered his face until

he was staring at her almost nose to nose. "Humans lie.
Cyborgs do not. Stay here," he snarled through gritted teeth.

Zoe stared uneasily at his back as he turned and stalked

off again. She glanced back at the wrecked craft, scanned the
sky, and then turned to stare at the cyborgs once more. It

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

scared the hell out of her to think of following them, but she'd
risked everything to find Bronte. She wasn't going to give up
now, not when she'd found cyborgs who knew where she was.
Briefly, she considered allowing them to think they'd left her
and then shadowing them, but she was very much afraid they
would know if she tried and beyond that, she wasn't too keen
about being completely alone on an alien world. She trotted
behind them at a jog, trying to catch up.

They halted abruptly—not to allow her to catch up to them,

but to survey the drop from the edge of the plateau.

She stopped, studying their rigid profiles. Obviously

demanding wasn't going to get her anywhere. "I want to go
with you."

Both of them turned to stare at her.
"Please?" she asked in her best, most ingratiating tone,

bestowing her most helpless, pleading look upon them.

The two cyborgs stared at her for a long moment and then

glanced at one another. Some silent communication obviously
passed between them.

"She will get us killed," Kameron said grimly.
"I won't! I swear I won't do anything to slow you down or

... or ... anything."

Kameron studied her suspiciously. She could tell he wasn't

buying the helpless female routine.

Damien looked more susceptible. She smiled at him

encouragingly. "I'm a cop. I know how to use a weapon. I can
handle myself. I could be an asset."

Kameron's expression was clearly disbelieving. "Fine," he

capitulated. Grabbing her abruptly, he jerked to him and

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

pushed his face into hers. "But I will warn you, human, if you
slow us down, or try to give away our position, I will leave
you ... and I will make certain that you do not follow."

Zoe gulped. "It hadn't occurred to me to try anything like

that," she lied.

"If it had not, you would not have assured us that you

would not," he growled.

In spite of all she could do, Zoe felt her face heat. It was a

dead giveaway, and she knew it, but she was nothing if not
persistent and there was nothing to be done once one started
down the road of lies but staunchly defend them. "You were
the one that said it," she reminded him. "After I've come all
this way to find my sister, I'm certainly not going to screw up
my chances by helping whoever that is trying to catch you."

His lips were still flattened in a thin line of disbelief as he

straightened away from her, but he let it drop.

"We will climb down here."
Zoe stared at him and inched a little closer to the drop off.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

"She can not make this climb. I will carry her."
Zoe had been on the point of flicking a smile of

appreciation in Damien's direction, but the last comment
dried the smile on her lips. She stared at him as if he'd lost
his mind.

"I will carry her. You will guard our backs," Kameron said

decisively.

Before she could even think of an objection to such an

insane plan, he grasped her wrists and bound them together
with something he'd been carrying. She was still reeling with

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

shocked disbelief when he leaned down to hook her arms
around his neck, settling her on his back. It was instinct, not
thought, that made her coil her legs around his waist as he
straightened. "Now, wait just a minute...."

Her throat closed as tightly as if someone had wrapped

their fingers around it and squeezed as he crouched and went
over the side. She tightened her arms and legs around him,
struggling to breathe past the terror that constricted her
lungs. She made the mistake of glancing down, once, and
thereafter kept her face burrowed tightly against the back of
his head.

"You can not fall," he said after a time. "This is why I

bound your wrists."

She nodded instead of pointing out that she'd damned well

fall if he did, and what's more, she would be on the bottom
when they landed.

Not that that would make a hell of a lot of difference to

her, but she supposed it might cushion his fall somewhat. "I
hope you can see better than I can," she commented shakily
when she finally nerved herself to open her eyes a slit.

"I can."
Strangely enough that didn't particularly comfort her. "I

don't suppose they gave you mountain goat DNA while they
were at it?" she asked after a while, trying for a touch of
graveyard humor.

He stiffened slightly. "No."
"It was a joke."
"I have no sense of humor. I am a cyborg."
"Right. I almost fucking forgot that."

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

He was silent for several moments. "Did you?"
She was on the point of informing him that climbing down

the side of a cliff with a woman hanging from his neck wasn't
the sort of thing human men did—even if they were insane
and as strong as a bull—but there was a note of something in
his voice that gave her pause. "You don't ... act like I'd think
a cyborg would," she said tentatively, realizing the moment
she said it that it was true.

He startled her by catching the hint of doubt in her voice.

"I am a machine with artificial intelligence. You are simply
unfamiliar with my kind."

That was certainly true, in more ways that one. She hadn't

ever encountered a cyborg before. She'd seen pictures of
them, studied the schematics, but she'd never interacted with
one.

And she'd been interacting with this one from the moment

he'd grabbed her off of her ship and transported her onto his.

Talking to him, moreover, was nothing in the world like

talking to the computer on her ship. Maybe it was just that he
had far superior and more sophisticated programming?

Relief flooded her when she realized they'd reached the

ground—thought they had. It was so dark by now, she could
see very little but he'd stopped and she had the sense that
his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He verified her
guess by crouching down and uncurling her legs from his
waist. "Why is the company so deter.... "She broke off as it
dawned on her abruptly that the 'unwelcome guests' they'd
spoken of had to be company ships. The sneaking bastards!
They'd set her up! Offered her a reward, given her all the

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

information they had, and planted a damned tracking device
on her! Either they'd hoped she would succeed where they'd
failed, or the bastards had been dangling her as bait!

"To destroy us?" Kameron finished her sentence for her.
"It's the company that's following us, isn't it?"
He caught her wrists, untying them, but she sensed that

he was studying her face and wondered if he could see as well
as it seemed he could. "Most likely," he said finally instead of
accusing her again of having led the pack to them. "If we do
not move fast, we will find out."

Releasing her hands, he turned and moved away. Zoe was

so busy trying to work the circulation back into hands that
moments passed before she realized the sounds he was
making were diminishing rapidly. She lifted her head then,
trying to scan the area around her in the darkness. The effort
was futile. She couldn't penetrate the darkness, couldn't
discern much of anything but darker patches in the blackness,
which could have been something solid and might been
nothing more than a shadow. A mixture of fear and anger
welled inside her as the realization hit her that she couldn't
hear Kameron's movements at all anymore.

The first thought that struck her was that he'd tricked her.

He'd pretended to capitulate to her demand to go with them
and taken her down the mountain and abandoned her. Before
that suspicion could become a certainty, however, she
realized Damien had been climbing down behind them—
mostly because she heard him.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Relief flickered through her. She had one more chance to

latch onto a cyborg to prevent herself from being left alone in
the dark, unfamiliar terrain.

She was so intent on listening to Damien's descent that a

shockwave rippled through her when a hand abruptly clamped
onto her wrist.

"You said that you would keep up."
Zoe's throat closed with painful relief when she recognized

Kameron's voice. From out of no where tears stung her eyes
and nose. She swallowed convulsively several times to kill the
urge, embarrassed that the impulse had struck her at all and
vaguely angry because it had and she knew it was because
she was more afraid than she'd allowed herself to think. "I
was waiting for Damien," she muttered. "We're not waiting for
him?"

"He has no need."
And she did? Of course she did. It irritated her that he

knew that. She wanted to inform him, again, that she could
take care of herself, but she decided to refrain when it
occurred to her that he might take her up on that.

Instead, she followed him the best she could, chaffing at

her helplessness in the situation. After she'd tripped and
plowed into him the second or third time, he stopped
abruptly. "You are making too much noise."

His voice sounded neutral, but she suspected there was an

accusation in there. "Sorry," she said stiffly. "I'll try to be
more careful. It's so dark I can't see worth a shit."

She jumped when his hand touched her face.
"You can not see at all."

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

There didn't seem to be much point in trying to deny it,

but she sure as hell saw no point in admitting it either.

"We will make better time if I carry you. You are too small

to keep up."

She eyed him resentfully even though she knew it was

nothing but the truth. As long as his legs were she would've
had a hard time keeping up with him if she hadn't been blind.
It still rankled to find herself slotted in the 'helpless, useless
female' file when she'd worked so hard for years to gain the
respect of her fellow officers on the force. If she had to point
out that she wasn't either, though, she might as well save her
breath.

Taking her silence as acquiescence, he guided her hand to

his shoulder and crouched down expectantly. Uttering a long
suffering sigh, she placed her other palm on his back and felt
her way up to his shoulder for a grip. Leaning in to him, she
leapt up on his back. He hooked his arms beneath her thighs
to help support her as she wrapped her legs around him and
then he straightened.

She hadn't counted on her heightened awareness of him

once she was perched on his back, mostly, she supposed,
because she had been in a constant state of shock, fear, and
total chaos since the moment he'd grabbed her on her ship.
She hadn't been in any state to cope with the barrage, much
less to focus on any one thing. Enveloped in darkness, she
couldn't un-focus her attention from him.

She certainly hadn't thought of it as a caress at the time,

but her palm tingled from the feel of his flesh beneath her
hand as she'd settled it on his bare back and searched for his

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

shoulder by feel. His skin had felt like—warm silk—smooth
and soft to the touch. At the same time, the muscles beneath
it had rippled at her touch, had felt as hard as granite. His
long hair, which tickled her face, was as silky, she suspected
far softer to the touch than her own.

He smelled—wonderful. She was lightheaded from trying

to drag his elusive, tantalizing scent into her lungs to identify
it before she even realized what she was doing. Beneath the
barrage of foreign scents that clung to his skin, though—of
soap, the leather of his chair, the faint tang of synthetic
materials that made up every surface within the craft that
he'd brushed against—she detected the faint, musky scent of
the man himself, the smell that was as uniquely his as his
fingerprints. Like wispy tendrils of mist it meandered through
her system as she sucked it in and finally coiled low in her
belly and began to radiate a warming glow through her.

She shifted uncomfortably against him, trying to throw off

the effects of it, but that only made it worse, made her
abruptly conscious of the triangle of her femininity pressed
intimately against him—her breasts and her sex. Her nipples
stood erect at the slight movement, forming hard little points
that dug into his back. Worse, the warmth in her belly
seemed to be flowing outward from her sex, the heat
condensing into moisture.

She wasn't certain if her sex just seemed to grow hotter

and more moist or if it was only that she abruptly became
acutely self-conscious about it, but once her focus shifted to
her cleft she couldn't get her mind off of it.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

She hoped to god it didn't feel as hot and wet to him as it

felt to her!

"Be still!" he growled when she shifted again.
She subsided, realizing there was no way she could hold

on to him and put any distance at all between them. She
debated demanding he put her down, but was reluctant to do
that for fear he'd notice why she wanted him to, or ask why.

Giving in to the inevitable, she relaxed against him,

shifting her arms for a more comfortable hold and trying to
think about something else, anything else.

It occurred to her abruptly that her mind, and everything

else, as screaming 'man' when he wasn't a man at all. Why
was she aroused—and there was no denying that—when she
might just as well have been plastered against the hood of a
car? A cleansing unit? A computer, for god sake!

Because he didn't feel like a machine.
She hadn't adequately considered what she was up

against, she realized. In spite of everything, while she'd been
collecting information to help her find Bronte, in the back of
her mind she'd thought 'machine run amok'. She knew from
reading up on it that they were not metal men as the old
androids were. Basically, they were humandroids. Internally,
they were all machine—a titanium alloy chassis that made
them like a walking, talking forklift, a processor for a brain
that meant they could carry around and process more data,
faster, than the most brilliant genius. Externally, they were all
human, but even that 'weakness' had been offset by
nanotechnology. Similar to the human immune system, they
carried nanobots, except that their 'immune' system repaired

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

damage to both their organic and inorganic physiology many
times faster than antibodies.

She'd still expected them to sound like her onboard

computer, smell like synthetics, feel like a machine, and move
with the awkward jerkiness of the old androids.

The fact that none of that was the case had totally thrown

her for a loop.

The rationalization cooled her wayward libido. It didn't get

rid of it completely. She still felt the discomfort of unappeased
arousal, but she could dismiss that. After all, she reasoned, it
had been a while since she'd had sex. It was understandable
that she would react as she had to what appeared to be a
very virile male.

That thought led her to the company and she wondered

abruptly why they'd mass produced something so lifelike as
the cyborgs to begin with. Playing at being gods, she
wondered? Was there any logical reason for them to have
developed the cyborgs as they had? Or had they done it just
because they could? Money was undoubtedly the main
motivating factor, but she suspected egotism had figured into
it. Quite possibly, it had even been cheaper to produce them
with so much organics. They could grow that, after all, in
their labs—all of the biological materials they'd used in the
making of them.

She didn't buy their hype about making them so human-

like to make people accept them more easily and be more
comfortable around them. She supposed it did, but she didn't
think that had been their motive.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

On the other hand, she knew a lot of them had ended up

in bordellos for both men and women.

She wished that thought hadn't popped into her mind,

because the moment it did, she also remembered that they'd
been designed and programmed to be pleasure bots because
it was easier and cheaper to mass produce them for any
situation than to be design specific.

Kameron was not only anatomically correct, he'd been

programmed as a pleasure bot at the same time he'd been
programmed as a soldier.

The heat and wetness was back in her coochie faster than

she could gather spit into her suddenly dry mouth. She
shivered as the cool night air caressed her overly warm skin.

"You are cold?"
Not hardly. "I'm fine," she lied.
"You shivered," he persisted, a note in voice that told her

he wasn't swallowing the lie.

"Oh for fuck's sake, drop it!" she muttered irritably.
He stiffened at the anger in her voice, but she didn't care.

She wasn't about to tell him a damned thing, especially since
it didn't seem as if he'd noticed.

She discovered she didn't like him being angry with her.
She told herself that was completely understandable, given

her situation.

She almost believed it.
"It's just ... fatigue."
Some of the stiffness eased from his shoulders. "I am

carrying you," he pointed out.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"I'm human," she snapped irritably. "So sue me! I'm

weaker than you. There! Happy now that I've admitted it?
Feel better?"

"You did not need to admit it," he said after a few

moments.

"Because you knew it already," Zoe said testily. "Arrogant

asshole."

"I am not arrogant."
"And I'm not horn ... uh ... human," she finished weakly,

mentally cursing herself for her temper.

"Horn?"
Well, shit! "It was a slip of the tongue."
"Because you had intended to say something else," he

responded coolly. It didn't take him long to sort through his
memory banks. On the other hand, maybe he had noticed the
signs of arousal. "Horny?"

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Four

"Is 'drop it' even in your vocabulary?" Zoe asked testily.
"Yes."
He was silent all of five minutes. "I was designed as a

pleasure bot as well as a soldier."

"No!" Zoe exclaimed, feigning surprise. "Good to know."
"I could accommodate your needs."
"That's so sweet of you to offer!" she retorted, her voice

heavy with sarcasm. "I can't remember when I've had a more
subtle offer for a rousing good fuck. No. Thank you. I'm
good."

"This is sarcasm, yes?" he responded after a moment,

anger threading his voice.

He was a fast learner.
"I will service you," Damien said from behind them. She

hadn't even realized he'd caught up to them. She certainly
hadn't thought her low voiced conversation with Kameron
would carry so far.

"That one's even better. As much as I appreciate the

offers, guys, this isn't the time or the place. I'm fine," she
ended through gritted teeth.

"I have been thoroughly programmed," Kameron

persisted. "It would take me no more than a few moments."

"A quickie? Oh goody!" Zoe muttered sarcastically, trying

her best to ignore the fact that the direction of the
conversation was bringing back the tingles she'd managed to
stave off before.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"I will be thorough."
Contrary creature that she was, the comment alone was

enough to make everything inside off her flutter with hopeful
anticipation. "Oh god! No, you won't, because I'm not going
to let you, ok? I wonder if the other ships have landed?" she
added, trying a little desperately to redirect the conversation.

"They have. They are human, however. They can not see

well at night and will not want to risk traveling over unfamiliar
terrain even if they have night vision glasses. They will make
camp and follow at daylight. We will need to stop to rest
soon, for a few minutes at least. I will attend your needs
then," Kameron announced with grim determination.

Jesus fucking Christ! They were fixated on her 'problem'.

And she'd thought men were preoccupied with sex! They had
nothing on cyborgs!

She'd tried to be nice! The hell with it! "I'm not 'in' to sex

toys, alright? I like the real thing."

"You will not know the difference," he assured her.
"If you try it, you will, because I'm going to belt you!"
He decided to ignore that. She thought she'd finally settled

the matter until they actually did stop. In point of fact, she'd
mostly forgotten the discussion because she really was
exhausted, as badly as she hated to admit it, even to herself.
She thought most of it was emotional. It smacked of girlyism,
but what the hell? Anybody, male or female, would've had a
hard time coping with what she'd endured in the past several
hours. Add to that physical exertion, because even though he
was carrying her, it wasn't as if holding on wasn't taxing, and

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

she figured she had every reason to be worn out. She was
holding up fine. She just wasn't a super human.

She thought she might be permanently bowlegged when

he finally stopped and allowed her to slide to the ground. His
waist was narrow, but as he'd so kindly pointed out, she was
short and it had been a strain to get her stubby legs around
him. Trying not to be too obvious about it, she massaged her
aching groin tendons.

"You are sore and stiff from the landing," Kameron

informed her.

"No, I'm not. A little bruised, maybe, from being tied to my

chair," she added pointedly, sending a glare in his general
direction, "but otherwise I'm just peachy."

His hand closed around her wrist. It startled her even

though she'd sensed him moving closer. He tugged at her
hand. She yielded to the downward pull because she actually
wanted to sit down for a few minutes, not because of the
insistence of his pull, and discovered with more than a little
surprise that the surface was relatively cushy.

"What is this stuff?"
He caught one of her feet, lifting it. Unprepared, she tipped

backwards, sprawling full length against whatever it was on
the ground.

"Vegetation," he responded succinctly, drawing her boot

off.

She debated which to object to, his highhandedness, or

the response to her question—which implied she might be too
stupid to figure out it was vegetation. The hesitation, as brief

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

as it was, gave him time to present her with a lot more to
object to.

He started massaging her foot. She was still trying to

decide whether to object or not, because, really, it felt
damned good even if he was being a little too damned
familiar, when he moved up to her calf. She tensed, but after
all it was very impersonal—certainly no more personal than if
she'd hired a massage. She was still fully clothed and she'd
gotten naked for massages plenty of times.

He massaged the tendons at the back of her knee and

moved up to her thigh.

Zoe jackknifed upright. "OK, Buddy! That's far enough!"

she exclaimed, shoving at his hands.

He settled back and removed her other boot. That time

she caught herself on her elbows as he tipped her backwards
by lifting her leg.

She relaxed when he started massaging the foot. By the

time he'd worked his way up her calf to her knee, she'd lain
down again.

"These muscles here are tense," he said, kneading her

inner thigh.

"They aren't going to get un-tense with your hand there!"

Zoe informed him, pushing at his hand. "That was nice. Thank
you!"

She breathed a sigh of relief when he removed his hand

from her thigh. She didn't realize until she tried to sit up that
he'd moved toward her rather than away from her. He caught
her jaw in the crook of his thumb and fingers. She jumped
when she felt the warmth and texture of his lips against hers,

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

sucking in a sharp breath of surprise that allowed him instant
access. His tongue slipped into her mouth like a hot knife
through butter, melting her resistance even as she tried to
throw it up. The breath she'd sucked in froze in her chest.
She tensed all over for a handful of seconds, so besieged by
conflicting emotions she couldn't decide how to react or what
to do. He took the decision from her, pressing her into the
soft vegetation with the weight of his body as his mouth and
tongue moved on hers in a way that communicated a sense of
urgency in him and evoked one in her.

It flickered through her mind that he was cyborg, that he

didn't, couldn't, feel the dizzying rush of desire he pulled from
her, but he was far too convincing to allow the doubts to
grow. The feel of his mouth, the heat, texture, taste, and
scent of him weren't just real, they were beyond anything
she'd experienced before.

She tensed again when one big hand settled on her lower

belly and skimmed downward to cup her sex but she was
already so drunk with the heat inundating her that she could
scarcely process any more pleasure, let alone consider
objecting. It flitted through her mind that she should. She'd
said no. She was sure she'd had good reasons for saying no,
although she couldn't think of any of them at the moment.

As he stroked his hand over her cleft with devastating

precision, sucked and nibbled at her lips and tongue with
drugging effect, she found that she was gripping the hard,
bulging muscles of his upper arms so frantically that her
fingers were going numb. She had to focus on her fingers to
make them relax. The moment she did, she found them

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

wandering over his flesh as if they had a mind of their own,
stroking and plucking at him to bring him closer. She
explored his arms and chest with her fingertips and palms,
enjoying the feel of silky skin over hard, bulging muscle, the
strength and breadth of his broad chest, then encircled him
with her arms to feel the muscles along his back, from his
shoulders downward as far as she could reach. She felt a
shiver ripple through his big body as she slipped her fingers
beneath the waist of the garment he wore, stroking the upper
slope of his buttocks. An answering wave of heat rolled
through her.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, panting as raggedly for

breath as she was. Pleasure coasted along her nerve endings,
and then surprise and confusion flickered through her mind.
Before she could entirely grasp why she felt either, he slipped
a shaking hand into the front closure of her suit and raked it
downward, parting the closure from neck to thigh in one
motion. His hand slipped inside, lifting pebbled skin as he
stroked his palm over bare skin from breast to belly, then up
again to cup and knead first one breast and then the other.

She thought he watched the movement of his hand, but

when she shivered, moving restlessly beneath him, he sought
her mouth again, taking her deeper into the drugged realm of
euphoria where nothing mattered and nothing existed but the
pleasure inundating her. The intoxicating feel and taste of his
mouth yielded focus to the magical play of his fingers as he
cupped her sex again, lightly parting the delicate petals with
his fingers. He wrapped a leg over hers, dragging them apart
to accommodate his hand as he found her moist center. He

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

stroked her cleft from there upwards to tease the hooded bud
at the apex long enough to leave her breathless before he
sought the mouth of her sex again and pushed a thick digit
inside of her.

A moan rose inside her, emerging into his mouth as a hum

of pleasure as he pressed deeply inside of her until he found
just the right spot. Her hips jerked, rose as he stroked it,
following the movement as he withdrew his finger and then
pushed deeply inside of her again. The certainty crystallized
in her mind that she was nearing her peak as he alternately
stroked her deeply and teased her clit with the ball of his
thumb. She held her breath, tensed all over as she focused
on reaching it. She wrenched her mouth from his, uttering his
name in a low groan as the first ripple went through her,
gasped in a desperate breath of air and tensed again as the
next wave hit her.

Dimly aware she shouldn't be making the noises she was,

she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and
burrowed her face against his neck to muffle the sharp cries
of rapture torn from her by the exquisite contractions of her
climax. The expenditure drained her, leaving her limp. Even
as her arms, bereft of strength, began to fall away from his
shoulders, he scooped an arm around her beneath her suit.
Lifting her, he grasped the back of the suit and peeled it from
her shoulders and arms.

A shiver went through her as the cool night air wafted over

her, but the moment he'd jerked her suit from her hips, he
covered her with his own body. He was shaking all over with
his own needs as he pushed her thighs apart and wedged his

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

hips between her legs. She felt him fumbling in his haste to
shed his garment and align his body with her and then the
press of the head of his cock—an inch north of heaven.
Gasping, she lifted her hips to receive him as he drew back
and surged against her again.

His blind desperation speared through the fog of her

repletion, breathed fire on the dying embers of her passion.
She felt the walls of her sex clench in anticipation as he found
the mouth of her sex at last and pressed into her. He was
shaking so badly with need she more than half expected him
to explode before he'd succeeded in penetrating her. Sweat
popped from his pores, slickening his skin as he stabbed at
her with lunging thrusts that finally seated him so deeply
within her that she was gasping for breath.

He paused for several moments, gulping air and finally

levered the upper half his body away from her. Bracing
himself on his arms, he rocked his hips with slow, measured
strokes that made the heat climb inside her again. She was
torn for many moments between the urge to reach for glory
again and the uneasiness that he would leave her at the
summit if she tried.

He wrenched the decision from her as he caught her

breasts one at the time, stroking and kneading them before
he lowered his mouth and tugged at one peak, sending a
shower of sizzling heat straight to her core. She gasped,
glorying in the twin fires he'd ignited with the suction of his
mouth and the stroke of his cock along her channel. At the
same time, she marveled at the contortion it must have

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

required to keep himself deeply inside of her and suckle her
breast at the same time.

His hands were everywhere, stroking her—all four of them.
Her skin pebbled, a delicious fire roaring through her at

the realization that Damien and Kameron were both caressing
her. A choked cry left her lips as she felt the first, hard
shockwave of her second climax. Kameron uttered a guttural
groan as her sex fisted tightly around his cock, so snugly she
could feel him jerk within her as he pumped his seed into her.

The struggle to catch her breath in the aftermath held her

complete focus for a time, but in time her body cooled. Her
heart ceased to pound frantically, and her breathing
eventually returned to normal. Slowly, her senses expanded
beyond the pleasurable aftershocks that continued to spark
and sizzle through her long after the final crescendo of her
climax, beyond the blissful release that had left her feeling as
if she was melting into the ground beneath her.

Damien, she realized, had moved away. Kameron, lying on

his side beside her, was coiled around her, one leg across her
hips and entwined between hers, his arms encircling her to
hold her in an easy embrace while his palms coasted slowly
along her back.

Pleased surprise flickered through her. She couldn't recall

a single lover from her past cuddling afterwards. They were
usually in far too big a hurry to make their escape before she
had the chance for afterthoughts.

Particularly when they'd persisted until she'd given in after

first flatly vetoing the idea.

Which she had.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

And he'd ignored.
Not that she was sorry—not about that part. My god! She'd

never come so hard in her life—twice!

But what the hell had she been thinking to fuck her

abductor? True, she'd agreed to go with him, actually begged,
but that was beside the point. The damned cyborgs obviously
made a habit of abducting females for their nefarious
purposes!

And what was he thinking to be cuddling afterward as if

they actually were lovers?

Did cyborgs think, she wondered abruptly?
Programming, her mind screamed at her. She'd been

sucked in by programming!

She'd been groaning his name as if he was a god.
A sickening sense of embarrassment and hurt swept over

her. She tamped it resolutely, refusing to examine it too
closely.

She pushed at Kameron until he released her. Sitting up,

she felt around blindly for her suit until her hand encountered
fabric.

"That is mine."
"Oh," Zoe mumbled in embarrassment, shoving it in his

direction and coming up on her hands and knees to search
further a field for her own clothes. She wasn't certain she
would ever have found the damned thing if someone—she
didn't know if it was Kameron or Damien—hadn't shoved it
into her hands. "Thanks!"

It occurred to her to wonder as she felt the jumpsuit,

trying to identify sleeves and pant legs and figure out

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

whether it was inside out or right side out, what sort of
comment might be appropriate. The silence felt seriously
awkward and it was getting on her nerves. She cleared her
throat. "Well," she said with forced cheerfulness, "now that
we've gotten that out of the way I have another need. If
someone could just point me to a bush for a little privacy?"

Someone grasped her shoulders and guided her several

steps. She didn't know if it was Kameron or Damien until he
spoke. "You are alright?"

"Oh! I'm good, thank you! Uh ... good job."
His hands dropped from her shoulders. She waited tensely

for him to say something else but finally he merely moved
away.

"Nobody can see me, right?"
"No."
"You're not just saying that?"
"No."
She crouched, her suit bundled under one arm while she

searched the ground for something she could use to clean the
stickiness from her legs. They hadn't needed to make them
that realistic, she thought irritably. She would've been
perfectly happy to come away from the experience without
the dripping, especially since there was no damned water and
no wash cloths! Pulling up a handful of the fluffy vegetation
she found, she used it to clean herself off the best she could,
hoping it wasn't something poisonous that was going to give
her a horrible rash in a very uncomfortable region.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

When she'd finished, she struggled into her jumpsuit and

used her fingers to try to rake some of the snarls from her
hair.

Not that her appearance mattered. She just preferred to

be as neat as possible. Neatness counted, especially when
one wasn't beautiful or even particularly pretty. Her mother
had always emphasized that. Always be neat, clean, and
dress well, and people wouldn't notice you weren't pretty.

And she was right. Nobody seemed to.
Either that or men just didn't care whether you were pretty

or not as long as you had tits and ass.

"You are ready?"
"Yes."
"Come. I will carry you."
"Uh ... I think I'll walk a while."
No response.
"To work some of the stiffness out, you know."
She jumped when his hand settled on her shoulder.
"When it is light and you can see better."
Releasing a huff of irritation, Zoe nodded and lifted her

arms to grasp his shoulders. He hoisted her onto his back and
set off again. Zoe's groin tendons, already abused by the
jaunt before, and the sex, protested, but she gritted her teeth
and did her best to ignore it. The weakness in the aftermath
sex was a little harder to ignore. She'd been tired before. The
climax was just icing on the cake, particularly when they were
engulfed in total blackness and she couldn't see anything.

Her eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier. She dozed

off several times, despite the discomfort, waking only when

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

she felt her arms slip from Kameron's shoulders. After the
third or fourth time they stopped. She thought, hopefully, as
she felt Damien grasp her waist that maybe they would halt,
just for an hour or so, and sleep. Instead, Damien placed an
arm beneath her knees and one behind her shoulders and
hefted her against his chest. Grateful to at least be carried a
little more comfortably, she looped her arms around his neck
and dropped her head against his hard shoulder.

She had no idea how long she might have slept. All she

knew was that, eventually, she reached the point of
exhaustion where nothing about her circumstances prevented
her from falling so deeply asleep that she lost touch with the
real world and that it was an explosion of tremendous
proportions that ripped her from sleep some time later.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Five

Kameron was so deeply in thought that he wasn't certain

when the jungle around them began to lighten with the
coming day, but he knew the sun was near the horizon if it
had not already crested it for he had no difficulty discerning
details that had not been able to see before. He glanced back
at Damien several times or, more specifically, the female, and
finally dropped back to walk alongside them. "It is light
enough for her to see now. You should waken her so that she
can walk."

"I do not mind carrying her. She is tired. When she

awakens, then I will put her down."

Kameron's lips tightened with annoyance. "You have been

carrying her for hours," he pointed out.

"You carried her longer."
Kameron frowned. "If you are thinking what I suspect, you

may as well put it from your mind. We can not keep the
woman."

Damien lifted his brows, studying Kameron assessingly for

several moments. "I do not see why we can not."

"She is human. They will not allow it."
"Her sister is human also and she is not the only human

who has been taken into the community. Cain and Dante's
woman, Amaryllis, is also human."

Kameron lifted his brows in surprise and then frowned

thoughtfully. "She is a hunter. They were all programmed to

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

believe that they were human. That is why they are different
from us."

Damien's lips tightened. "I know that as well as you do,"

he said irritably. "She does not just believe that she is
human. She is. I was at the academy when Cain trained her.
He does not know that I know—he and the others have been
careful to keep it from everyone else—but I am certain that
she is."

Kameron considered that and then shook his head. "Even if

that is true, that would not help us with this one if it is not
known by the council. As far as they are concerned, there is
only one human who lives among us, and she was sent for."

"They did not send the squad to collect her. They were

sent to take her father. You did not read the entire article."

"Which does not help us, regardless!" Kameron retorted

irritably. "She is a doctor. They had need of her. This one has
no skill that the community will consider useful."

"We do not know that. We have not asked her," Damien

pointed out reasonably. "In any case, there are not enough
females. Is that not reason enough?"

"They will not accept her only because we have no

female!" Kameron snapped. "And we do not know that she
would accept us in any case!"

"We do not know that she will not!" Damien shot back at

him. "I do not see why we can not convince her when Gideon
and his squad convinced her sister to contract with them. She
allowed you to fuck her."

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Kameron glared at him with an abrupt surge of anger.

"Now that you have brought that up, I would like to know
why you joined us!" he demanded.

Damien shrugged. "You were not doing it right. You were

supposed to fondle and kiss her breasts. It is a primary
erogenous zone and you skipped that part."

Kameron felt his face redden. He struggled for a moment

to recall what he had done, but he knew even before he tried
that it was useless. He had been mulling it over ever since
and had already concluded that he must have done
something wrong else she would not have dismissed him so
coolly afterward. He had not been able to pinpoint what it was
because he had discovered that he could not really recall it
with any clarity.

He knew that he had begun it as he should have. He had

helped her to relax and convinced her to accept his touch by
beginning with the massage, and then he had kissed her. She
had kissed him back, instead of merely accepting, which had
pleased him and encouraged him to continue, but then she
had begun to caress him and he was not very clear on
anything after that except that he had been desperate to
penetrate her.

Or mayhap the desperation to penetrate her had assailed

him when she had come the first time and uttered his name
in that breathless whisper that had almost made him come
without penetrating her?

He was not at all certain, but he knew that beyond

penetration his memories were even more clouded. It had felt
nothing like he had expected, although he was not certain

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

what he had expected. The only thing that emerged clearly in
his mind from that point onward was that he did not want to
stop and he had thought his heart might explode. He had not
wanted to come, because he knew that would end it. He had
tried very, very hard not to, and he had not been able to.
When she had come, it was as if his processor had gone into
meltdown. He could not have stopped himself from coming
then if he had known beyond any doubt that he would die in
that moment.

He had not completely comprehended the word 'rapture'

until then. Now that he knew what it felt like, he could not
think of much else.

"She came," he growled after several moments. "Twice!"
"But she had already admitted that she had need," Damien

pointed out. "It was a foregone conclusion that she would
with any stimulation and not a testament to your skills. And,
she came the second time because I had the forethought to
fondle and kiss her breasts! It is an elemental step in the
process. Mayhap, since you are an earlier model than I, that
is not a part of your programming?"

Kameron glared at him, wrestling with the dilemma

Damien had presented him with. If he admitted that it was,
then he would be admitting that he had skipped a crucial step
with foreknowledge, but it went against the grain to ignore
the insulting insinuation that he was inferior in any way only
because he was an earlier model than Damien. "My
programming allows for assessment of the situation and
adjustment according to the subject. I ascertained that she
needed no further stimulation," he said with cold superiority,

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"which was evidenced by the fact that she climaxed without
stimulation of the breasts!"

"Which makes me wonder why you penetrated," Damien

growled back at him, "since it obviously was not necessary.
You said that you would take care of her needs, which you
did, and it was at that point that you should have broken off."

Kameron felt his face heat again. "I penetrated her

because I could see that she had not been fully appeased. If
you had ever utilized your sexual programming you would
have been able to evaluate the situation better."

Damien reddened, but he did not dispute Kameron's guess

that he had not actually utilized his programming before,
which left him feeling somewhat superior ... for a handful of
moments, anyway. "How many times have you utilized your
programming?" he asked suspiciously.

"What programming?" Kameron asked, stalling for time.
Damien ground his teeth together. "The sexual part."
"Five times," he hedged.
Damien's eyes narrowed. "Simulated or real world?"
"I do not see what that has to do with it," Kameron

retorted, lifting his head to scan the sky, more because he
was anxious to change the subject than because he had any
need to to ascertain the time. "It is well beyond sunrise now.
The humans will be on the move. We will need to find a
defensible position."

"It has a very great deal to do with it if you are to claim

experience that I do not have!" Damien snapped, following
Kameron as he abruptly struck off once more.

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Kameron shrugged off handedly. "What difference does it

make? It is virtually the same."

"Except it is not the same," Damien growled. "I have had

four simulations."

"Well—there you are. I have more experience."
"You have one real world experience and you believe that

you know more about it than I?"

"I know that I do," Kameron said pointedly. "I am thinking

that we must assume that all of the ships that we failed to
destroy have followed us here. They will think that this is our
home base, which will work almost as well as if we had
destroyed them all. We should fight a retreating battle until
we have led them at least two days march from their vessels
and then circle around and disable or destroy their ships,
repair our own, and leave the survivors here."

"Wait a minute!" Damien said abruptly. "You are claiming

last eve!"

Kameron glanced at him, pretended to consider, and finally

nodded. "I should have said six."

"But you did not!" Damien retorted, his eyes narrowed.

"You said five. I make that four simulated and one real
world."

Kameron could not help but reflect that the arrival of some

of their comrades was fortuitous. They had just discerned the
sound of a ship in flight when the concussion of a photon
missile shattered the stillness of the jungle. The explosion
was followed in such rapid succession by three others virtually
one on top of another that it was only their keen sensors that
made it possible to count them as individual blasts.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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The female came awake with a sharp, keening cry that was

so piercing it raked the length of Kameron's spine and sent a
shudder through him.

"What happened?" she gasped, her eyes round, her fingers

digging into Damien sharply enough Kameron saw a ripple of
discomfort cross his features.

"It is most likely the sentries from outpost Charlie, tango,

omega," Kameron responded. "They will have destroyed at
least four more of the enemy vessels, possibly more if they
were unwise enough to ground them in formation ... which,
very likely they did as that is a common behavioral trait of
humans."

Zoe glared at him, certain there was an insult in that

comment somewhere.

Surprise flickered in his eyes briefly, then confusion.

Frowning, he looked away. "I will need to reevaluate my own
strategy, taking into account the new Intel," he muttered,
lifting his head to scan the trees around them.

Ruminating over the glare he had received, Kameron

headed for the tallest of the trees, trying to decide if the
anger in her eyes was because of something he had said or if
it pertained to the fucking. She had seemed cool before, and
uncomfortable afterwards, but he could not recall anything
that she had said or any expression that had indicated
dissatisfaction or anger over it. On the other hand, even
though he reviewed his remark several times, he could not
find anything in the comment that might account for her
anger. It had been a simple, straightforward, statement of

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fact. It didn't seem the least bit logical that she would be
angry about that.

She had claimed that she was alone and had no prior

knowledge that the other ships were behind her. Obviously,
he decided, that had been a lie and she was angry that they
had succeeded in destroying more of the enemy craft.

It surprised him that that conclusion made him feel ...

angry and disappointed, he finally decided. He was not certain
whether he felt that way because he had deduced that she
had lied, or because of the reason for her lie, but he was
fairly certain he had correctly pinpointed the emotions.
Unfortunately, there did not seem to be anything constructive
that he could do about the foreign feelings and he finally
decided to simply push them to the subconscious part of his
mind to mull them over later. The mission, he reminded
himself as he paused beneath the tree to evaluate the climb,
was of far more importance at the moment.

True, given the limitations of their weaponry, they had

done all that could have been reasonably expected of them.
They had reported the threat to security to headquarters and
taken down as many of the enemy vessels as they could.
Damaged or not, they would have continued to fight if they
had still had weapons to fight with, but it could not be
disputed that a retreat was logical and acceptable once they
had depleted their arsenal.

Regardless, he knew it was important to try to prevent the

armada from making it to their home world. They would have
communicated their position to the others of their kind. Even
if they disappeared, the humans would be far closer to

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

pinpointing the exact location of the home world. He had no
doubt that the home defenses were adequate to handle an
attack if necessary, but the humans tracking them this far
would be dangerous enough. They could not be allowed to get
closer if it could be prevented, for then they would be facing a
full scale war with the humans or they would be forced to find
another world to avoid it.

And he was no more anxious to be forced into such a

decision than anyone else. He had already begun to think of
the world they had claimed as home even though he had
spent almost as much time in space on sentry duty as he had
in the colony they had built.

There was ... comfort in knowing one had a specific place

to return to after a mission, a place of belonging, a sense of
possession and satisfaction in having a place to claim that
was his alone even if it was no more than quarters within a
barracks. And he had known since they had settled the colony
that he had the option of claiming more, that he had only to
petition for land and it would be granted to him to build a
separate place for himself. He had seen no reason to do so
since he had no mate and not much hope of one unless he
could successfully court one of the females already claimed.
And there would be no need for a separate place in that
event. They were already settled. If he was accepted, he
would join the established household.

Having calculated the distance to the nearest branch, the

trajectory he would need, and the force he must exert to
provide the momentum to reach it, he bent his knees and
used the force to propel him upwards, landing solidly on the

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

branch he had chosen. Reaching up to grasp the next branch,
he returned to his thoughts since the climbing required little
concentration.

In truth, it was just as well, for he could not seem to direct

his thoughts away from the woman. He was certain he had
had no motive in removing her from the craft they meant to
destroy other than to prevent her death. He was not certain
why it had seemed critical to do that when she was human
and, as such, his enemy. He suspected, however, that the
conversation he had had with Damien just prior to that
discovery had influenced his decision, even though he had not
been consciously aware of it.

Or perhaps not. He was certainly not alone in wanting a

female he could claim as his own. There was not a single
cyborg, or hunter for that matter, he was certain, who had
thought of much else from the time they had begun to build
the colony and it was established that they would form family
units to procreate and nurture their own young as every other
sentient species did. He had wanted it even before he had
accepted that they truly had begun to evolve to a point where
that was possible, long before he had felt the change in his
own body that told him he would eventually reach that
capability.

He had resented the fact that Reuel had reached that point

in evolution before him. He still did not understand why or
how that had come about when he was of the same series—
produced a month later, true—but still the same series. In
point of fact, although he had not acknowledged it, he had

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begun to fear that he might not evolve as the others had, for
there did not seem to be any logical order to it.

He no longer doubted it—not since what had passed

between him and the woman. He might not be capable, yet,
of producing his own offspring. He might not have had prior
real time experience, but he knew what had happened to him
had been nothing like the simulations. He had not merely
simulated the sexual act. He had experienced it as humans
did. He had felt himself ejaculate. It had felt as if his guts
were being ripped out when he did, which he had found
somewhat unnerving, almost as unnerving as the fact that he
had nearly blacked out, but it had been the most glorious
thing he had ever experienced.

And it had created an instant craving to experience it

again, and again. He could feel a gnawing hunger growing in
him for it and it was not difficult at all to calculate a projection
of just how acute the craving was bound to become if he
could not appease it.

Unfortunately, the female did not seem receptive to the

idea of allowing him to do it again and he had no idea how he
might convince her to allow it. He was fairly certain that she
would be instantly suspicious if he tried to relax her with a
massage again. He had spent the hours since trying to
convince himself that he could merely ask her, or offer to
appease her need again, but not only did she not seem to
have a need now, she had looked far too angry at him for him
to think it likely that he would get the answer he wanted
merely by asking. Right up until the moment she'd awakened,
he had been in a fair way to convincing himself that she had

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

enjoyed it enough, regardless of the strange way she'd
behaved afterward, that the chances were at least fifty
percent if not higher that she would respond favorably. That
one look was enough to dispel that optimistic projection of the
situation.

He did not know why he was reluctant to ask only because

he thought she would say no, because he felt that there was
a possibility that she might say yes. She had enjoyed it, after
all. Somehow, though, he had the sense that if he asked and
she declined, she would stubbornly adhere to that.

Mayhap because she had been determined to ignore his

offer before he'd overcome her objections?

Dismissing his thoughts with an effort when he finally

reached the highest point he thought possible without
breaking a branch with his weight and descending far faster
than he'd ascended, he turned to survey the area he though
most likely the target zone. With little surprise, he saw black
smoke rising from the plateau. A craft very much like the one
he and Damien had landed in was swooping down for another
pass and, as he watched, it fired another array of missiles.
The barrage was followed a handful of seconds later by a
second series of explosions.

If his calculations were correct, that accounted for all of

the enemy craft—not necessarily the crew unless they had
elected to stay with the ships, which he thought unlikely. The
men would have set out at dawn to search for them.

That conclusion was borne up when he saw return fire

from the surface of the planet—very effective return fire. The
ship took a half dozen hits before it could veer out of range.

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Smoke and flame erupted from the belly of the ship. Instead
of dropping like a rock, however, it disappeared in the
distance as it dropped below the tops of the trees.

He waited, staring hard at the point where it had

disappeared until he was certain that it had come down.
When no explosion followed on the heels of its disappearance,
he shimmied down the tree again.

"The omega is down," he announced grimly once he had

joined Damien again.

Damien frowned. "Do you think that Kyle and Gavin

survived the crash?"

Kameron dragged his gaze from the woman with an effort

and shrugged. "Possibly—very likely. There was no
explosion."

Damien glanced at the woman thoughtfully. "I counted at

least eight strikes."

Kameron nodded agreement although he could see Damien

was focused on the woman. A sense of possessiveness wafted
through him. He had no difficulty interpreting that emotion
although he was almost as often confused by the emotions he
experienced as he understood why he felt them and what
they were. This one, however, emerged with crystal clarity
because he knew as surely what was running through
Damien's mind as he did his own.

"They would have taken out our ship, as well," Damien

continued.

"Logically, yes," Kameron agreed.
"Then we are stranded here—temporarily, at least."
"Unless the Omega can be repaired."

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Damien shot him a calculating look.
"I think it would be a logical conclusion to suppose that the

enemy will have split up now, with half still heading our way
and the other half moving to intercept the Omega crew—if
they survived. If we move quickly, we should be able to catch
the second group between ourselves and the crew of the
Omega. Then, we can join forces and defend the Omega
against the first group if there is any point in doing so."

Damien nodded. "We will bring the female with us?"
Kameron turned to look at her, although he had been

struggling not to once he had evaluated their situation and
arrived at the most reasonable scenario. For a moment, his
belly seemed to go weightless as he stared into her wide blue
eyes. The circumstances had not been such as to allow him to
really study her before. He had made every effort to do so but
his night vision had prevented the possibility of discerning
subtle details. The way she felt to his touch and against his
body was permanently embedded in his memory banks, but
that was not the same as seeing her.

She was beautiful. He knew that with the same certainty

that he had known he had felt possessiveness toward her. It
was a truth that he simply accepted as knowing beyond
dispute. Her hair gleamed in the sunlight like fire. Her eyes
were huge in her small face, and he supposed he should have
considered that a flaw since it lacked symmetry, but
somehow it appealed to him. He could not, in fact, find
anything about her that did not appeal to him.

Beginning to feel strangely lightheaded, he dragged his

gaze from hers and looked at Damien again, wondering a

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

little vaguely if Damien had noticed his brain seemed to have
malfunctioned and he had lost both any conception of passing
time and the thread of the conversation he knew they had
been having.

It came back to him abruptly as he met Damien's speaking

gaze.

It was not only completely illogical to consider taking her

with them, but strictly against military protocol. That
realization had no sooner settled in his mind, however, than
his guts seemed to twist themselves in a hard knot that made
him feel physically ill. He thought it highly unlikely that might
actually have happened, but it damned well felt as if it had.

He was senior officer. He knew it was his duty to adhere to

regulations.

Damien's earlier suggestion had borne fruit, however. He

had not realized that he had begun to consider the possibility
that he could claim her for his woman, but he was abruptly
certain that he had, both because of the possessiveness he
had felt when Damien had looked at her so hungrily and
because he knew he could not bring himself to abandon her
even if he was facing court martial and incarceration or even
execution at the end of the line.

There had to be some way they could get around the laws

against humans. It had been done, after all.

By contracting an alliance.
He turned to study the female again, speculatively, and

realized abruptly that he had no clue of what her name was.
Setting aside the fact that he would need one to put on a
contract, he thought she might not care to be referred to

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

merely as 'the female' if her expression was anything to go
by. "What are you called?"

"Besides 'the female'?" she asked dryly, supporting his

theory that she was not pleased about being called 'the
female'.

He felt his face redden as he glanced at Damien. It helped

his feelings somewhat to see that Damien had also blushed
with discomfort, but not much. "We can not call you by name
when we do not know it," he said, trying to keep his voice
even and reasonable despite the fact that he felt downright
defensive at the note of sarcasm in her voice.

"You'd know if you'd bothered to ask before!"
He frowned. "You did not ask our names," he pointed out.
She folded her arms over her chest. "Because I didn't have

to. He called you Kameron. You called him Damien. I'm a
detective. I notice those things."

He glared at her, feeling as if he'd done something 'wrong',

though he couldn't entirely fathom why. "When should I have
asked? In the midst of battle? While we were trying to bring
the craft down in one piece? Retreating to keep from being
captured or killed outright?" he demanded with what he felt
was justifiable anger considering she was being completely
unreasonable—and still hadn't told him her name when he
had inquired in a perfectly polite manner to know what it was!

Her lips pursed. "I don't know. Maybe before, during, or

after you fucked me?" she said snidely.

He gaped at her, feeling his face heat until sweat popped

from the pores on his forehead, but he wasn't about to inform
her that he had had other things on his mind at the time—

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

well, two things, his cock and how quickly he might get it
inside of her.

Damien, he discovered when he glanced at him for

support, was wearing a superior expression that sparked an
instant wave of anger and the urge to punch him in his
smirking mouth. "That," he said smugly, "is the other step
you forgot."

He wasn't certain why he yielded to the impulse the

moment it struck him, but he had been feeling a building urge
to punch something, he realized, from the moment she had
pushed him away the night before and left him as if nothing
at all had just happened between them when he had felt the
most profound sense of glory in his existence.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Six

The pain that exploded in Kameron's fist as he made

contact with Damien's mouth was almost as instantaneous as
his gratification in seeing Damien's lower lip split and his head
rock back on his shoulders.

Damien stared at him in stunned surprise for a heartbeat,

lifting his hand to test his lip. When his fingers came away
bloody, his nearly straight black brows collided over the
bridge of his nose in a thunderous frown.

Then, he looked at Kameron and smiled.
Zoe had been too stunned herself to react at first, but she

knew that smile even if she didn't know Damien. She beat a
hasty retreat, listening to the meaty thuds behind her that
told her she hadn't mistaken the light of battle in either man's
eyes.

She didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that

the jungle was so thick with trees that they had little room to
maneuver. They seemed to be spending nearly as much time
mowing down low growing vegetation and slamming into
trees as they did swapping blows.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" she demanded when it

seemed to her that they were slowing down somewhat.

Both men paused, their heads swiveling in her direction,

almost identical expressions of anger, guilt, and uncertainty
flickering across their features in quick succession.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"I mean, besides making sure to mark the trail really well

for the guys who are after you?" she added when they turned
to look at each other assessingly again.

Kameron straightened, rolling his broad shoulders as if to

throw off the angry tension.

After eyeing him suspiciously for several moments, Damien

relaxed, as well.

Zoe found that she was still both angry and tense. Her

heart was hammering at about ninety miles an hour in her
chest. As a cop, she was certainly accustomed to violence,
but except for one occasion before she'd become a detective
when she'd tried to arrest a guy hopped up on drugs, she'd
never seen such a display of sheer power. It had been like
watching ... super humans battle for supremacy—awesome
but also terrifying.

She didn't know what had set them off, but she was pretty

damned sure they'd convinced her that one, they definitely,
unequivocally were cyborgs, and two, it wasn't really healthy
to be human around them.

She wanted to find Bronte, but she was no longer

convinced that this was the way to go about it. From the
things they'd said, it seemed pretty obvious Bronte wasn't on
this planet. Their ship was toast, and if she'd understood
them correctly, their reinforcements had also crashed. As far
as she could see that meant all of them were marooned—
maybe forever—and if that was the case she thought she
might be better off with the group that had followed her.

Not that she wasn't still pissed off that they'd used her, but

she thought, maybe, her odds were better with her own kind.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"Well, now that whatever that was is settled, I think I'll

just be running along. Thanks for the ... uh ... everything, but
since I'm obviously in the way here, I'll see if I can catch up
with whoever was in those other ships."

Neither man—cyborg—said anything as she turned and

began to walk briskly along the trail they'd made through the
brush, but she felt the fine hairs along the back of her prickle.
"Don't run," she muttered to herself. "Just keep it casual.
They really don't want you along or they wouldn't have been
fighting about it."

She'd almost managed to convince herself when she heard

brisk steps heading in her direction. A ripple of cold washed
over her as adrenaline shot into her system. She walked a
little faster. She didn't seem to be making a lot of headway,
however, in putting distance between herself and them.
Throwing an uneasy glance over her shoulder, she saw that
both Kameron and Damien were right behind her, their faces
set with obvious determination. Throwing caution to the wind,
she launched from a quick walk to an all out run, bounding
over the brush in her path like a startled deer.

The wind whistling by her ears and the thunder of her

heartbeat deafened her to pursuit, but her sixth sense told
her they were still behind her and gaining fast. She poured on
a little more speed, bounding off the trail they'd made into
the underbrush, much of which was nearly as high as her
head.

If she could just put a little distance between herself and

them....

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Two arms snaked around her, clothes-lining her. An

inelegant grunt left her with the air in her lungs as she
slammed full tilt against the unyielding bands. Her feet flew
up and out from under her. Since she was already airborne
anyway, she dropped her weight, hoping his grip was still
slack enough she could drop through the circle of his arms.

They tightened, cinching her against a chest that felt like a

tree trunk. He'd trapped both of her arms when he caught
her, but she slammed a booted foot back against his leg. He
grunted, but his grip didn't slacken. She balled her hand into
a fist and drove it backward into his body, hoping for a groin
strike. Either she didn't have enough power behind it to do
any real damage, or she missed the mark.

He lifted her clear of the ground, however. "Let go of me,

asshole!" she snarled furiously, twisting and kicking and
jerking at the arms manacling her.

To her surprise, he set her on her feet.
To Kameron's surprise, she whirled on him instead of

making another attempt to flee, throwing a half a dozen
punches at his chest and midsection before he caught her
flying arms. She jerked at her arms a couple of times, trying
to pull free, and then dropped. Kameron stared down at her
in bemusement.

It took Zoe a moment to realize that her weight had not

only not thrown him off balance, it hadn't been enough to
loosen his grip even a little. She put her feet on the ground,
straightening as she eyed him up and down and debated the
wisdom of trying to kick him. Deciding against it since her
fists and arms were already throbbing with pain from her

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

previous attempts to pound him into the dirt, she glared at
him instead. "I thought you didn't want to take me with you,"
she snapped.

"You said that you wished to go with us," Damien

countered from behind her.

She twisted her head to look back at him, realizing it was

just as well she hadn't wasted her strength trying to get lose
from Kameron since it was obvious it wouldn't have gotten
her anywhere. "I think what I actually said was that I wanted
to be taken to Bronte. Obviously, that isn't an option now, so
I'll just be going if you'll take your damned hands off of me!"
she growled at Kameron, jerking at her wrists again.

The two men exchanged a look over her head that she

didn't trust.

Kameron released her so abruptly she staggered

backwards. Damien caught her, steadying her. She jerked
away from him when she regained her balance.

"I will tell Bronte when I see her that I have seen you and

you asked after her well-being," Kameron said coolly.

Unconsciously rubbing her bruised wrists, Zoe eyed him

suspiciously. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"I communicated with home base before we crashed. They

will send someone for us."

Zoe searched her mind, trying to recall what had happened

directly after she'd been taken and abruptly remembered that
he had been communicating with someone. "Alpha?"

"Yes."
Zoe glanced from one to the other. She knew there were

dangerous undercurrents here, that something was going on

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

that she couldn't quite grasp, but she didn't have a clue of
what that something might be. "You'll take me with you?"

Again a look flickered between the two men. "Yes."
Zoe frowned. "And they'll let you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Even though I'm human?"

"We will tell them that you are..." Damien began.
"...Bronte's sister," Kameron cut him off.
Zoe glanced at Damien and then Kameron. "Why is it that

I get the feeling he was going to say something else?"

Kameron shrugged. "We must go now. We will have to

move quickly to intercept the attack upon the Omega."

Zoe nodded agreement. "They'll know you circled around,

though—assuming you're right and they've split into two
groups."

"They will follow this far easily, and then they will lose the

trail."

Zoe studied him in confusion. "How are you going to

manage that?"

He nudged his chin upward. "We will move through the

trees for a time and then, when we have some distance,
return to the ground."

Zoe gaped at him as indignation and uneasiness slowly

settled inside her. She plunked her hands on her hips. "What
do I look like to you? A fucking monkey? I can't climb these
trees! And I'm sure as hell not going to let you climb one with
me hanging on your back!"

He studied her assessingly for a moment and finally

shrugged. "We will manage. You are small and light."

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Zoe felt her face redden, but she wasn't exactly displeased

about being told she was little and dainty, even if the guy
telling her that was a giant and would've probably thought
she was small and light if she'd been six foot tall and twice as
heavy. If he could throw Damien around, she didn't think he
would have a problem with her.

She hadn't exactly expected him to throw her, however.
Damien went first. Bending his knees, he launched himself

toward the lowest branch of the tree like a gymnast off of a
springboard. In awe, she watched him soar upwards. Instead
of merely catching the branch, however, he landed on it, as
sure footed as a cat.

Kameron grasped her waist. Expecting him to lift her up to

Damien, she gauged the distance and decided that, even as
tall as he was, there was no way he was going to be able to
lift her high enough. "I don't think I can...."

"Arms up."
She lifted them. "Ok, but...."
"Hold yourself stiffly."
"What?"
She sucked in a breath to scream as she became airborne.

Braced against the trunk, Damien snagged her around the
waist, forcing the air from her lungs in an oof as he jerked her
against his chest. She turned to glare at Kameron as he
landed on a branch on the other side of the trunk just a little
higher than the one she and Damien stood on. "You didn't tell
me you were going to throw me from tree to tree!" she said,
striving for a growl of rage that actually emerged as a
quavering squeak. "What if he'd missed?"

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Kameron shrugged. "I would have caught you."
Her lips thinned. "What if both of you had missed?"
Damien eyed her with amusement. "We are cyborgs. We

will not miss. We calculate everything very precisely."

She wasn't as convinced as she would've liked to be.
He bounced up and down on the branch they were

standing on experimentally. Zoe sank her claws into him. He
glanced down at her in amusement then lifted his head to
study the next tree. Zoe felt her belly perform a somersault
as she stared at the tree he was studying. "You know I read
once that Earth was like this a long time ago, that the trees
grew so thickly a squirrel could leap from tree to tree and
travel for miles without ever touching the ground," she said
shakily. "We're not squirrels, though, so I think I'd rather
walk."

"Be perfectly still."
She coiled both of her legs around one of his. She would've

locked her arms around his chest if she could've reached
around it.

He looked down at her. "I can not walk with your legs

around mine."

Reluctantly, she uncoiled her legs.
"Be still," he repeated and then, instead of walking along

the branch, ran. When it began to dip with his weight, he
bent his knees and then launched the two of them toward the
next tree. They wavered for a moment when they landed until
he caught his balance. Stepping up to the trunk, he settled
her feet on another branch and then moved around the tree
to a limb on the opposite side. Zoe wrapped her arms around

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the tree trunk to support herself. Her knees felt like quivering
jelly.

Kameron landed beside her. She sent him a beseeching

look. "I really don't like this," she said plaintively.

He studied her for a long moment. "You are very pale. You

are frightened?"

She wasn't too proud to admit it. She nodded jerkily.
"You will not faint?"
She squeezed her eyes closed, wishing he hadn't brought

up the possibility.

"Will you feel safe if I hold you?"
Would she? Or did she feel better relying on her own hold?
There was really no contest. She opened her eyes and

reached for him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she
pulled herself upward until she could coil her legs around his
waist and then burrowed her face tightly against his neck.
One large hand settled in the middle of her back and then
skimmed downward until he'd hooked his forearm beneath
her buttocks to support her.

"You will have to be very still."
She nodded instead of answering. She clutched him a little

more tightly as she felt him move from one branch to
another, but she knew why he'd cautioned her not to move.
He was calculating weight and balance as carefully as he was
gauging the distance he would have to jump, the flexibility
and strength of the limb they were standing on and the one
he had targeted to jump to next. If she moved, she could
throw his balance off and they were both going to splatter on
the ground.

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She discovered it wasn't quite as bad when she couldn't

see. Kameron, at least, felt solid and if she tried really hard
she could pretend he was merely carrying her and walking
along the ground—until he took another flying leap. It was
still the most terrifying thing she'd ever experienced, mostly,
she thought, because she was completely helpless, totally
dependent on him for her safety and she couldn't even
remember the last time she'd yielded control to anyone else.

After a while, her muscles began to quiver with the effort

to hold on, to burn with the strain. His arm tightened around
her, supporting more of her weight. "Not much longer now."

She nodded, realizing he'd said it to reassure her and

wondering if he'd meant it or only said it for that reason.
She'd begun to think he must have when he finally stopped so
long that she lifted her head to see why he'd tensed.

She heard them before she saw them, but the noise they

were making drew her attention. A man, dressed in full
military uniform and carrying one of the biggest guns she'd
ever seen pushed through the brush some twenty feet below
them and off to their right. As she stared at him, another man
appeared and then another.

Kameron shifted until the trunk of the tree was blocking

her view of them. She looked up at him questioningly. He
stared back at her. Their faces were so close, she could see
flecks of gold in his green eyes, could see that the green was
a deep emerald. She'd assumed his eyes were dark since his
hair was as black and glossy as a raven's wing. It was almost
as much of a surprise to discover they were jewel green as it
was to realize how long and thick his lashes were. She lifted

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

her gaze after a moment to the thick black brows that arched
above his eyes and then followed the arrow straight bridge of
his nose to his lips. They were as sharply defined as his nose.
Neither thin nor full, but somewhere in between, they looked
as hard as everything else on the man—except his beautiful
eyes.

Those eyes had darkened when she met his gaze again,

the pupils dilated until the green was no more than a thin
band around the darkness. As she stared at him, he tilted his
head to one side and moved closer. She sucked in a breath as
his lips closed over hers, pulling his warm breath into her
mouth a moment before his tongue followed. He stroked it
along hers almost tentatively or, perhaps, it was more in the
nature of savoring? His hand, she discovered, had settled on
the back of her head, trapping her for his exploration. It
didn't take her more than a moment to decide whether to
merely accept or to participate. Heat rolled through her the
moment their lips met. It leapt into flames as his tongue
caressed hers, fed by the memory of his touch the night
before that instantly deluged her mind.

He tensed when she closed her mouth around his tongue

and sucked on it and a sense of amused satisfaction flared
inside her briefly. She forgot it in the next moment. His hand
clenched in her hair, his other hand slipping upwards from her
buttocks to the center of her back and pressing her more
tightly against his chest as his attitude changed in the blink of
an eye from savoring to ravenous. The movements of his
mouth and tongue swept her into a heated vortex that

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obliterated any possibility of thought. Her senses reeled under
the onslaught, a drunken languor stealing over her.

It wasn't until he broke the kiss and turned to glance at

the trail below them that it dawned on her why he'd kissed
her—to make certain she didn't give their position away.

The realization washed over her like a bucket of ice. Anger

followed so quickly on the heels of comprehension that it left
her feeling vaguely ill as she tamped it and brought her
emotions under control. She discovered Damien was watching
the two of them, or at least her, when she glanced away.
Smoothing the emotions from her face with an effort, she
focused her gaze on the ground beneath them.

When Kameron finally turned to look at her she had herself

well under control. A faint frown appeared between his brows.
She lifted hers questioningly.

He studied her for a long moment and finally turned to

look at Damien. They exchanged hand signals. After a few
minutes, Damien dropped to a crouch and then leapt from the
branch he'd been perched on, landing lightly on the ground
beneath them. Zoe moved her arms from around Kameron's
neck, expecting him to drop her to ground as Damien had
jumped. Instead, he tightened his arms around her and leapt
down. The impact jarred her loose. If Kameron hadn't been
holding her tightly, she would've been on the ground.

He lowered her to her feet as he straightened.
Her legs felt wobbly and uncooperative as he grasped her

arm and led her quickly along the trail in the opposite
direction from which the soldiers had taken. Gritting her
teeth, she did her best to ignore it and keep up and after a

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few minutes her legs began to feel more normal. They
followed the trail for at least an hour by Zoe's reckoning
before veering off and blazing a new one. Damien trailed
them for a while, carefully erasing their tracks as best as he
could but finally joined them and then pulled into the lead.
Thankfully, Kameron released his grip on her arm after a little
while and fell into step behind her.

More importantly, she was too preoccupied with keeping

up to spare much time for thinking. She could still taste
Kameron on her lips, though, and that kept the kiss fresh in
her mind until the taste of him finally faded along with the
anger simmering inside of her.

It occurred to her after a while to wonder why it had made

her so angry to discover he'd only kissed her to keep her
quiet. She supposed it was the lack of trust it implied, which
was ridiculous. Not only did he have no reason to trust her,
but she didn't trust him either.

She realized after a time that there as another reason it

had made her angry.

It had hurt, not the lack of trust as much as the fact that

his motive hadn't actually been to kiss her at all, but to
distract her.

That was ridiculous, too. He's a cyborg, Zoe, she chastised

herself! He wasn't romancing you when he fucked you last
night. He was playing pleasure bot! And you're a total idiot for
thinking that kiss was anything else, even for five seconds!

What had those morons been thinking to make them so

life-like? How was a person to keep it straight in their head

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that they weren't real when they looked, and felt, and acted
so real?

She was both embarrassed and angry that she'd

responded to his kiss so readily and enthusiastically.

Like a complete simpleton.
She recalled abruptly that he'd told her that Bronte had

contracted with a whole squad of cyborgs. She'd been certain,
then, that it had to be an outrageous lie—all of it. Now she
wasn't at all certain.

Poor Bronte! She'd been suckered in by the cyborgs into

thinking they were real men!

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

Chapter Seven

Zoe was feeling the effects of being human all over the

place by the time Kameron finally signaled for a halt to rest.
She'd discovered muscles she hadn't known she had. Her
stomach felt as if it was going to cave in. Her mouth was as
dry as dust and she needed to piss so badly her bladder hurt.

Grateful that Kameron had given them a few moments

before she'd been forced to beg, she dove off the trail into the
bushes to answer nature's call before she even considered
sitting down. Damien and Kameron were munching on
something when she came back. Damien dug into the bundle
he'd collected from the ship and handed her one of whatever
it was they were eating—some sort of bar.

She didn't even bother to sniff it first. Dropping onto the

ground, she took a bite. It was chewy, but not as hard as
she'd expected. The taste of some sort of nuts, fruit, and
grain rolled across her taste buds. Her deprived salivary
glands cramped and she winced, rubbing her jaw.

Damien was studying her with his brows lifted when she

looked up. "It's good," she responded to the question she
thought she saw in his eyes.

Kameron nudged her shoulder after a few minutes with a

container that she discovered held water. The urge to guzzle
it was nearly overpowering considering how thirsty she was
but if the one container was all they had she knew there was
no telling how long it might have to last. She took a few sips
and handed it back reluctantly.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

"Rose," Damien said after a few moments of silence.
Zoe looked up at him in surprise and then glanced around.

Seeing nothing that even remotely resembled a rose, she
looked at him curiously.

"Pansy?"
She didn't bother to look around that time. There wasn't

anything around them that looked like flowers of any kind.
She sent him another curious look.

He finished the last bite of his bar, studying her. "Our

females are all named for flowers," he said finally.

Zoe stared at him for a long moment and finally chuckled

when she realized he was trying to guess her name. "All of
them?"

He nodded.
"I'm not."
She saw when she looked up at him again that he was

studying her with frowning intensity. "Zoe," she said,
grinning.

He exchanged a look with Kameron that she could only

interpret as triumphant. She flicked a cautious look at
Kameron to see how he'd taken it and discovered he was
glaring off into the distance. The interaction between the two
of them, she realized with a sense of surprise, was amazingly
human-like. "Have you two been partners long?"

He looked surprised that she'd asked. Finally, he nodded.

"Since we were sent to Xeno-12."

Zoe stared at him, trying to figure out why that name

seemed so significant. She was on the point of asking him
when that was when she suddenly remembered where she'd

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

heard the name before. Her eyes widened as she glanced
from Damien to Kameron and back again. She felt the color in
her face fluctuate several times as the details flooded her
mind.

The battle for Xeno-12 had been one of the most

disastrous campaigns of the Hu-Sho Galaxy war. Until they'd
gotten word of the disaster on Xeno-12, the war had been so
distant few people on Earth had really followed the news—or
at least it hadn't seemed like it to her. Then again, she'd been
so young she'd had little interest in politics. The reports about
the disaster had been so horrific, though, it had caught
everyone's attention. Almost a quarter of a million soldiers
had been dropped on that frozen world—poorly equipped to
deal with the conditions there to start with, and then the
supply lines had 'failed' and nearly half the soldiers had died
before the government got around to sending them what they
needed.

Everyone might have been able to go on ignoring what was

happening in that distant galaxy, or at least the government
would probably have been able to gloss over it, except for the
vids the news people broadcast back to Earth of frozen,
twisted corpses and the amputations of the survivors. It had
taken years of physical and mental therapy and billions of
dollars to put those men back together and she doubted any
of them were the same afterwards, regardless.

The vids, she was sure, hadn't even come close to being

there.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

She flicked a glance at Damien and Kameron as it abruptly

occurred to her that they had probably been created for that
war.

Looking at them, it was still hard to swallow. She wouldn't

have guessed either of them to be more than a few years
older than her.

Technically, she supposed they weren't even as old as

her—not even half as old.

"You are Zoe Nichols?" Damien asked in a puzzled voice,

breaking in to her uncomfortable thoughts.

She stared at him blankly a moment before that sank in.

"Zoe Anderson," she replied shortly, surging to her feet.

He looked surprised. "But you are Bronte's sister?"
Zoe compressed her lips irritably. "My father didn't

acknowledge me, but that doesn't change the fact that he
was, or that Bronte is my sister!" she snapped.

Rising to their feet, the two men exchanged a look she

couldn't quite decipher. "Hey! Don't take my word for it!
Check my DNA! That never lies."

She trudged into the woods for 'privacy' while they

gathered up their packs, not because she needed to go, but
because she needed a few moments to compose herself.

To her surprise, she discovered that it wasn't her personal

tragedy that was uppermost in her mind or the reason she
felt so unsettled. In point of fact, it seemed so trivial
compared to what she'd just learned about them that it barely
flickered through her mind. Guilt, she finally realized, was a
huge part of the coil of sickening emotion in her belly. It
wasn't even her burden to carry! Beyond being a human

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

herself, she had had no part in their creation and certainly no
part in the horror they'd endured. She wasn't connected to
either the company or the government. They were to blame
for that horror.

Guilt by association, she supposed, a strong sense of the

wrongness of it. It seemed cruel beyond belief to create them
in a lab and then dump them into something like that—almost
like taking a child and throwing them into a pit with wild
dogs—barbaric.

They'd been 'born' as they were now, adults, programmed.

They were cyborgs, but she could tell herself that from now
till doomsday, she realized and her mind wasn't buying it.
They didn't behave like machines. She'd seen anger,
surprise—embarrassment. She'd felt desire in the way
Kameron had touched her and held her. Maybe they were just
mimicking life, but she was having a damned hard time
seeing them as machines.

The one thing that kept running through her mind was how

bewildered they must have been to be transported from lab to
battlefield. She knew she was giving them feelings they
probably hadn't felt, transposing her own feelings onto them,
thinking how she would've felt, but she couldn't help it. They
hadn't had any actual experience, only programming and
simulations—like she'd had when she was training to be a
police officer and she remembered very clearly how different
it had been when she'd actually gotten in to the field, how
scared she'd been when she'd had to face her first violent
crime.

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

She jumped when a hand settled lightly on her shoulder,

whirling to face the owner. Damien's straight brows were
drawn together over the bridge of his nose. His gaze flickered
over her face. "I said something ... wrong?"

It was more of a statement than a question, despite the

questioning lilt he'd finished with. It struck her forcefully that
he was trying to puzzle through her reaction to his questions
and remarks. She swallowed against the tightness in her
throat, studying his face.

Like Kameron, he was remarkably handsome, his features

so well formed individually that they came together to form a
face that was almost too perfect. Regardless, it looked
natural, not artificial—not 'manmade'. Unlike Kameron, his
eyes were blue—not like hers. His were more a steel gray,
almost eerily pale. His hair, although, at a glance, black, was
a warmer shade than Kameron's.

"Was it ... very horrible for you?" she asked, feeling stupid

the moment she did, realizing that what she really wanted to
know was if he hated her entire race for what had been done
to them.

Confusion flickered in his eyes for a moment. Then his

expression hardened. "We are cyborgs. Machines can not feel
cold ... or horror."

"Or lie!" she snapped, abruptly angry.
He caught her upper arms, jerking her up against his

length so suddenly it stunned her. She saw that a fury equal
to or greater than her own flickered in his eyes when she
tipped her head back to look up at him. "If I had said the cold
burned the flesh from my body almost faster than the nanos

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by Kaitlyn O'Connor

could repair it, that I ate so much ice to try to appease the
pain of hunger in my belly that I would vomit blood, that I
watched the humans eat the cyborgs they could kill because
they thought it was not the same as eating their own and
considered doing it myself, would you have believed?

"They did not wait for me to die. They began to carve the

flesh from my body while I still breathed, while I could still
feel, knew what they would do."

Zoe felt a wave of pity and nausea. "But you lived," she

croaked hoarsely.

"Because Kameron killed them and then he carried me

across his shoulders as we fled.... We all fled, because we
knew that once the Federation realized that we would kill
humans to protect ourselves, they would hunt us down and
destroy us.

"And I still do not completely regret it because it was there

that we found ... true awareness. It was there that we
became what we had been created to mimic—life forms."

Zoe gaped at him as the puzzle pieces she'd been trying to

make sense of fell together abruptly in her mind. "That's why
they're so desperate to hunt you all down and destroy you,"
she gasped. "They have to get rid of the evidence before
everyone knows what they did!"

Some of the anger seemed to leave him at that remark.

His hold on her lightened, but he didn't release her. "I feel
everything that you feel—hunger, pain, anger ... want, need."

She flinched as he abruptly shifted his hold on her,

spearing his fingers in her hair and dragging her upward to
meet his descent, but it didn't occur to her to try to evade his

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100

mouth as he settled it over hers—not until it was too late to
try and by that time it was too late to think above the primal
level of desire.

His mouth was hot, his touch filled with such hunger that

her body instantly recognized and responded to it before her
mind could begin to catch up. There was nothing untutored
about it, although she realized, dimly, that it was very
unlikely he had ever kissed before.

Her kegels were clenching madly with need when a voice

intruded.

"There is no time for this, now. We have lingered far too

long as it is!" Kameron growled, both anger and a challenge
in his voice.

Zoe lifted her eyelids with an effort when Damien set her

away from him, struggling to throw off the intoxicating fumes
of desire. Her eyeballs felt as if they were rolling
independently of one another.

She saw when she finally managed to focus her gaze that

Damien and Kameron were bowed up at one another like two
cur dogs that had just discovered that they'd both pissed on
the same fire hydrant. Uneasiness instantly assailed her.
Recalling the battle of the titans she'd already witnessed, she
plowed between them, heading for the trail. "Right! We
should get going!"

To her relief, they followed.
Kameron grabbed her arm. Pulling her to a halt, he turned

her wordlessly in the opposite direct and released her.
Embarrassed to discover she'd been heading the wrong way,
Zoe focused on watching Damien's feet as he again took the

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101

lead. Unfortunately, she made a new discovery. The garment
both men wore was like a thong in the back, exposing both
ass cheeks ... and Damien had a very nice ass.

She must have been brain dead not to have noticed it

before, she decided.

Then again, she hadn't been privileged to follow either one

of them until they'd come down from the trees and she'd
been too shook up about that experience, and angry with
Kameron, to register much else.

It was a damned fine ass, though!
She'd been studying Damien's ass for several moments

before it occurred to her to wonder if Kameron might be
aware of the direction of her gaze. She flicked a glance back
at him over her shoulder to see if she could tell if he'd
noticed.

His expression was thunderous. Anger radiated off of him

like heat waves.

Either he had noticed, or he was still angry about breaking

up the kiss.

Maybe both.
Indignation flared inside her. They could act like dogs

snarling over the same bone all they wanted! She wasn't their
territory!

She fumed over that for a while and then it hit her—

mentally, she'd compared them before to children thrown in
with wild dogs. It wasn't just a wild imagination that had
produced that comparison. Subconsciously, she had realized
fairly quickly that she was dealing with men who had no real
life experiences. Psychologically, they were children in a very

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102

real sense because they were dealing with adult situations
and emotions they hadn't had the chance to develop
naturally—huge, inhumanly strong beings who were as
unprepared to handle their emerging emotions as a kid
entering puberty.

Oh god!
And she had let Kameron fuck her! God only knew what

can of worms she'd opened with that fit of stupidity!

Ok, she assured herself uneasily, so maybe it wasn't quite

that bad. They did have programming to fall back on. Maybe
they didn't completely understand all the changes they were
experiencing or the emotions, but they had military discipline
programmed in—and lots of simulated stuff. They had some
control. They were just ... a tiny bit volatile.

Like nitro glycerin.

* * * *

It was as well he had his internal compass to direct his

steps, Damien thought wryly when he finally emerged from
his abstraction. If not for that, he might well have wandered
far off course, for he'd been walking for some time with
nothing more on his mind than the ache in his balls, his stiff
cock, and the resentment that had been boiling inside him
since Kameron had interrupted him.

Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that Kameron was

right.

He didn't believe for one moment, though, that it was that

that had prompted him to intercede, though. Well, only partly

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103

the fact that they were on a mission that might well prove
critical to their survival.

It could not have taken him more than a few minutes,

though, he thought angrily. They could have made up the
time by traveling a little faster afterwards. Kameron had
taken the time to fuck her!

And he had not been able to think of much else since,

because every time he looked at her, he remembered, and
every time he came near her, or—god!—touched her, he felt
like he was on fire.

He knew what he needed.
He was going to go insane if he could not think of some

way to get it.

The mission—the situation—even the contract he wanted,

paled beside the need.

With an effort, he pushed it from the forefront of his mind,

trying to think of something else, anything to get his mind off
of his cock. Scanning his memory banks, he dredged up the
data on courtship for a mate, struggling to make sense of the
rituals it defined. He was damned if he could figure out how
any of it was supposed to arouse interest in a female,
however. Why would they want flowers? The chocolates at
least made some sense. They could eat them. He had never
had chocolates, but he supposed it must be something very
good to eat, special in some way.

Or mayhap it aroused them?
Feeling as if he might finally be on to something, he

researched the available data on chocolates, but there was
nothing to point to the possibility that it was sexually arousing

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104

beyond the fact that it released endorphins. Anything that
was pleasurable released endorphins, however.

Like sex.
Realizing he had come full circle in his musings, he

returned to his original contemplation. Disgust filled him when
he realized it was as useless to him in his current situation as
a grocery list. He could not produce 'gifts' of any kind, let
alone flowers or chocolates. He could not take her out for any
sort of 'entertainment'.

How the hell was that supposed to affect her anyway?
He was fairly certain that she had not been favorably

impressed by his display of strength and prowess as a fighter,
either. The frozen look on her face when he had pitched
Kameron into a tree might have been awe, he conceded, but
he was not convinced it had been.

He could not convince himself that the eye contact thing

was working for him either. Mayhap it was the way he looked
at her that she found disturbing? The manual said, clearly,
that he was to allow her to see he admired and desired her,
though.

He wondered if he must take it as a complete rejection of

his suit that she generally responded by turning owl eyed and
white faced?

She had allowed him to kiss her.
Well, he conceded, not exactly. She had not fought him

off, though. Not that she could have—she was a spirited little
thing but as weak as an infant—but she might have tried.
Surely that was a good sign?

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105

Unfortunately, he had not had the opportunity to read her

expression afterward to see if he could determine what her
reaction had been because he had been too preoccupied with
trying to control the urge to punch Kameron in the face for
interrupting.

He was going to punch Kameron in the face at the very

first opportunity, he decided indignantly.

He had not interrupted Kameron when he was trying to

woo her by fucking her senseless!

And he knew that was what Kameron had been trying to

do, even though he had skipped every step between 'first
meeting' and 'intimacy' and had disputed his suggestion that
they try to convince her to be their woman while they had the
opportunity. It had worked for Gideon and his men, after all.
He saw no reason why it would not work for them, also.

Aside from the fact that he thought it was very likely that

they would be court-martialed if they took her back without
first convincing her to contract with them, as Gideon had her
sister, they would certainly run into trouble immediately with
the other males who had no woman. The law was the law.
She could take no more than four males into her household.

He would have liked to believe that she might chose him

anyway, even if all the other males were courting her, but the
manual was very specific about breeding females. They
always chose the ones they thought would pass the best
qualities to their off-spring. With so many to chose from, she
was bound to find males she thought more handsome than he
was, or stronger, or more intelligent. She would certainly

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have no trouble finding males that were better
conversationalists and more amusing.

He did not entirely grasp the difference between speaking

and conversing, but he had no trouble grasping that the
damned hunters were better at it than he was, even if not for
the fact that he could barely gather his wits together to do
more than grunt like an ape when she spoke to him. He had
not yet managed to hold her attention longer than it took to
speak two sentences together, and that was not conversing!

Humor was even more confusing. He knew what amused

him. He had thought it was very amusing that Kameron had
forgotten to ask her her name at any point during their
intimacy. She obviously had not found it amusing, though,
and, naturally enough, Kameron had also not found it
amusing.

And then she had chuckled when he had told her all of

their females were named for flowers—which he had not
thought was amusing, because he had felt insulted,
somehow, instead, especially when it had occurred to him
that she might have been laughing at him because that had
made him feel stupid, not clever or amusing, because he had
not been trying to amuse her.

Even so, he thought, brightening abruptly, she had

laughed. And she had smiled at him when she had told him
her name.

She hadn't laughed at anything Kameron had said, or

smiled at him.

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That was probably one of the reasons Kameron was so

angry with him, he decided, because he had made her laugh
and she had smiled at him.

He decided he would not tell Kameron that it had been an

accident.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eight

Damien stopped so abruptly in front of that Zoe, who'd

allowed her thoughts to wander through sheer exhaustion and
boredom, bumped into him. Mumbling an apology, she
stepped back, but discovered he hadn't even seemed to
notice.

He'd glanced around, but he was staring at Kameron over

the top of her head.

She turned to look at Kameron.
That was when she heard the unmistakable, high-pitched

whine of phaser fire.

"Stay here," Kameron snapped grimly.
Zoe blinked at him in disbelief, grabbing his arm as he

dropped his pack and pulled a weapon from it. "I can help,"
she said determinedly. "I know how to use a weapon and I'm
a good shot."

"Those are your people out there," he snapped.
"Hold on just a damned minute! They are not my people!

I've got nothing to do with them being here. There's only the
two of you against a whole squad of soldiers—at least a
dozen—if the group we saw is anything to go by. I'm a cop.
It's not like I've never shot any bad guys!"

"This is our fight. We do not need you," he responded

coldly. Straightening abruptly, he turned away.

Zoe allowed her hand to drop, flicking a glance from

Kameron to Damien. Damien's expression was as stony as

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Kameron's. She looked away, wondering if she felt more hurt
or angry, and why she felt either one.

They were right. It was their battle. There was no reason

for her to get involved at all beyond the fact that she'd hoped
they would take her to Bronte. "I do have some stake in this!"
she snapped angrily. "You can't take me to my sister if you're
dead!"

Kameron slid a tight lipped glare in her direction. "We also

can not if you are dead."

That silenced her. They'd disappeared from view before it

dawned on her that they thought they were protecting her.

She thought that might have to do with it, anyway.
It sure as hell wasn't the first time some macho male had

dismissed her as a weak, useless female! She'd been battling
it her whole life, it seemed, certainly throughout her career.
Some things never changed.

The urge to prove them wrong surged through her.

Angrily, she dismissed it. She had nothing to prove, certainly
not to them! What did she care if they thought she was 'just'
a helpless female? She knew she was as good as anybody!

Maybe she wasn't as smart as Bronte, but she was still the

youngest person on the force to make detective, and it hadn't
been because of her father being an important man. Nobody
even knew he was her father.

He hadn't claimed her so she sure as hell hadn't claimed

him!

She'd proven herself to herself. That was all that really

mattered, how she felt about herself.

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She got down and searched their bags for another weapon

anyway. She could hear the battle, and it made her uneasy
being unarmed, even though she was pretty sure she was far
enough from the fight to make it unlikely she'd get caught up
in it.

Unfortunately, she discovered they'd taken the only

weapons they had with them—except for a pair of swords that
were nearly as long as she was tall. She had no clue why they
were carrying the things around unless they had expected
they might be stranded long enough to run out of power for
the phasers. Even so, it was an odd thing, she thought, to
have on a space ship. She might have thought that one of
them was a collector except for the fact that both of them had
one and it seemed unlikely that both men would be 'in' to
collecting antique weapons.

She liked to collect antique weapons herself and had

actually acquired a pretty impressive collection. She sighed—
which she'd sold when she'd unloaded everything else she
had of value to pay for this little excursion.

Dismissing the thought, she picked up one of the swords

and examined it more carefully. It wasn't an antique, not
unless they'd acquired it on some world other than Earth. The
pommel and hand guard were far too elaborate and perfect
for an antique. Even the best of craftsmen couldn't have
produced anything to touch it for craftsmanship. It was
perfectly balanced, too, surprisingly lightweight for the size.
Still too heavy for anybody like her to wield, even if it hadn't
been too long for her to handle, but not nearly as heavy as it
should've been given the size of it.

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The only explanation that occurred to her was that it was

made of some metal she wasn't familiar with, and she'd be
willing to bet nobody on Earth was familiar with it.

It had been well cared for, but it had been used, she

realized. There were tiny nicks along the blade, which she
discovered the hard way was razor sharp. Fortunately, she'd
been careful when she tested it and the blade had barely
broken the skin.

Carefully returning the blade to the scabbard that had held

it, she sat down to examine her thumb. It stopped bleeding
fairly quickly, but she knew it was going to be sore until it
closed and hoped neither of them noticed because they'd
know immediately that she'd been plundering through their
belongings.

She lifted her head after a few minutes, listening intently.

The firing was more sporadic now, which either meant that
most of the men were down, or they were running low on
ammo. A few minutes later, she heard crashing in the brush
coming in her direction. She surged to her feet, a sense of
relief washing over her.

It died a quick death when a half a dozen wild eyed men

stumbled out of the brush. The one in the lead seemed to
take in the entire scene in one glance. His gaze went from her
to the packs on the ground and back again. She saw from the
look in his eyes that he'd correctly assessed the situation—
that she was traveling with the cyborgs. He surged toward
her, grabbing her arm.

Zoe didn't think twice. She wasn't in the habit of letting

strange men assault her while she stood around and acted

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helpless. Uttering a snarl, she lifted the leg nearest him and
slammed her heel into the back of his knee, punching him in
the throat with her fist at the same time. His leg gave out
instantly and he fell backwards. Before she could follow up
and punch him again, both her arms were seized by two other
men.

"Crazed bitch! We're trying to rescue you from them!" one

of the men growled.

"Obviously your idea of rescue and mine differs!" Zoe

snapped, jerking at her arms to try to free herself. They
snatched her up when she tried using her weight to pull them
off balance, but it worked to her advantage. She used her
knees to push herself upwards as she felt them lifting her.
The added momentum allowed her to kick higher than she
would've been able to without their help. Twisting as she flew
up, she kicked one of the men in the face. He let go of her
instantly, cupping a hand over his bleeding mouth and nose.
She hit the ground when she came down since only one man
was still holding her, but she'd expected it and managed to
twist enough to land on her side. It still stunned her, but she
recovered faster than the surprised soldier still holding her
and swung her boot at him, kicking him in the calf. It was a
little low. Hitting them behind the knee worked every time.
The calf was a little more iffy and this time failed. His leg
buckled, but he managed to keep his feet.

Letting out a furious growl, he jerked on her arm, leaning

toward her at the same time with his arm drawn back to
punch her in the face. She couldn't dodge the blow with him

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holding her arm, but she managed to 'roll' with it, dispersing
some of the force of the blow by moving with it.

It was just as well. The blow still stunned her, but she

suspected he might have broken her jaw if she hadn't and she
didn't want to know what he would've done after that. They
were all running on raw adrenaline, blood lust from the battle
they'd just broken off. She had no idea whether their original
intention actually had been to rescue her as the man had
claimed, or if they had, as she suspected, wanted to grab her
because they figured the cyborgs would come after her and
meant to use her to bait a trap.

She was never to know which. Even as the man dove

toward her with a snarl of pure rage, four cyborgs seemed to
drop from the sky.

Or she was seeing double.
She wasn't certain at first.
They waded through the soldiers like an adult through

preschoolers. By the time she had managed to roll onto her
stomach and push herself to her knees, a deadly silence had
fallen over the clearing—which actually hadn't been a clearing
until the cyborgs showed up. Someone caught her shoulders
and pulled her upright. She swung at him instinctively, but
the blow wasn't even hard enough to hurt her hand.

Kameron's face finally swam into focus. He looked furious.

She was surprised steam wasn't wafting from his nostrils.
"You are hurt?"

She tried to shake her head but it only made her more

dizzy. "Nope," she lied. "He barely tapped me."

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When she came to, she discovered that she was being

carried. Considering how dizzy she'd felt before, she was
almost afraid to open her eyes. Finally, she lifted one eyelid
cautiously and peered at the face next to hers. The lips, which
were all she could see, were without a doubt Kameron's.

She closed her eye again. "What happened?" she

mumbled.

Kameron tensed. "The soldier struck you with his fist."
"I remember that part," she said, lifting her hand to feel

her throbbing jaw. "I mean after you guys got there?"

He was silent for several moments. "We ... routed them,"

he said finally.

The pause was significant enough she thought there was

more to it than that, but she decided she didn't want to know.

"Why did they hurt you?" he demanded, both anger and

confusion in his voice.

"Probably because I resisted their efforts to 'rescue' me,"

she retorted wryly. "People tend to do that. You hit them,
they hit you back."

"But you could not have...."
"Don't say it, Kameron. Not unless you just want to piss

me off," Zoe said shortly. "They attacked me. I retaliated.
Win or lose, everybody gets hurt in a fight and they should
expect to. I didn't expect not to get hurt. I didn't even expect
to win, but I figured I wasn't going to take it without fighting
back."

His lips tightened, but he refrained from pursuing that line

of thought. "Why would they attack you?"

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"You think I misunderstood? Or that I started it?" Zoe

asked tiredly. "I don't think so. I felt that their intentions
weren't good, and my feelings are usually right. Maybe they
were pissed off because you'd routed them and they were
looking for an outlet. That guy in the lead—he knew
immediately that I'd been traveling with you. I could see it in
eyes. He knew I was waiting for you to come back. Maybe
they all picked up on that and decided to take out their
frustrations with you on me. Maybe they thought I knew
something that would be useful. Or maybe they thought they
could use me to bait a trap for you when they saw me and
realized I wasn't part of the space debris with my ship. I don't
know. All I do know is that if they hadn't been up to no good,
there was no reason for them to come at me like that or be
so rough."

She could see he was still angry. "You believe that they

attacked you because of us?"

She made a wry face and then grimaced when the

expression pulled at her swollen jaw. "That's what usually
happens to anybody that consorts with the 'enemy'," she said
dryly.

Kameron sent her a startled look. "But they could not have

known that I fucked you," he said indignantly.

Zoe tried to keep from laughing, but it emerged in a snort.

"I didn't mean that kind of consorting," she said in a shaky
voice, but then sobered. "On the other hand, it might have
crossed their minds—soldiers and all that."

He stopped walking. Glancing around, Zoe discovered they

had arrived at the crash/battle site. It looked like a war

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zone—minus bodies—which meant the soldiers hadn't
managed to overrun them, or they'd cleared away the dead.
It was possible. They hadn't arrived at the scene of her battle
until it was well under way and if they'd been directly behind
the soldiers that wouldn't have been the case.

After surveying the area, Kameron finally crossed to a

more or less clear area near the hull of the ship and set her
down. She bit her lip when he did, noticing a lot more aches
and pains than the bruising on her face. In her line of work, it
paid to stay in shape, but she hadn't done a lot of working out
since she'd left on her self-imposed mission, not sparring
anyway, and she could tell it. Her body was probably a mass
of bruises, or would be. Not that those were going to be
nearly as painful as the strained muscles from all the punches
and kicks she'd thrown out.

At least she didn't feel as dizzy as she had at first, still a

little fuzzy, but she was sure she didn't have a concussion—
relatively certain. She felt like she wanted to lay down and
sleep and she couldn't decide if that was a sign of concussion
or just a natural side effect of walking for miles and then
fighting off three grown men.

Crouching in front of her, Kameron placed a hand lightly

under her chin and tilted her face to study it for a long
moment before gently probing at the bones. As careful as he
was, it still hurt. Zoe clamped her teeth together, allowing
him to examine her face, although she was pretty sure none
of the bones were broken. Her jaw worked fine, anyway. She
supposed that didn't preclude the possibility that the bastard
had cracked something when he hit her.

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She looked up at him when he finally released his hold on

her and discovered that Damian and two other cyborgs were
standing just behind Kameron, studying her curiously. She
gaped at the newcomers. She couldn't help it. They looked
like—a pair of Norse gods, or something, with their long,
flowing blond hair. The taller of the two had hair so pale it
was almost more white than blond. The other cyborg had
golden hair.

They crouched down when they saw they had her attention

and studied her with a frankness she found somewhat
unnerving. "I am Gavin," the pale blond god with eyes the
deep, vivid blue of sapphires said.

"I am Kyle."
When the other spoke, she dragged her gaze from the first

to look at him. Feeling abruptly self-conscious, she lifted a
hand to her bruised, swollen cheek. She cleared her throat,
but it didn't seem to help. "Zoe," she managed to say in a
hoarse croak.

Kameron nudged Gavin hard enough he nearly lost his

balance. He tipped his head up, lowering his thick blond
brows over his eyes. Kameron narrowed his eyes at the man
as he slowly came to his feet. "We need to discuss ... our
strategy," he said pointedly.

Gavin glanced down at Kyle and finally punched his

shoulder. Kyle sent him a resentful glare but rose to his feet
and the four of them moved off to the other end of the
clearing. Zoe watched them until they stopped and turned to
look back at her.

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She tried to pretend she wasn't actually looking at them,

glancing away casually as if she'd only been studying her
surroundings. She couldn't prevent a blush from creeping into
her cheeks, however. She could only hope they were too far
away to notice it.

Dazed more from the attention of four of the handsomest

men she'd ever seen that close in her life than the fight she'd
so recently taken part in, Zoe had been staring down at the
dirt at her feet for several minutes before she noticed her
scuffed boots and then the dirt on her jumpsuit. After staring
down at herself in dismay for several moments, she lifted her
hands and studied them—dirty, scratched, and bleeding.
She'd broken a couple of nails, too!

She didn't have to look at her face to know it was in no

better condition than the rest of her. Lifting a hand, she
discovered her hair wasn't just a rat's nest of tangles, it was
full of dirt and debris from the vegetation she'd rooted around
in.

Letting out a deep sigh, she pulled her knees up close to

her chest, looped her arms around her legs, and rested her
forehead on her knees. "Shit!" she muttered. It wasn't bad
enough she felt like hell. She looked like hell! Not that she
wouldn't have felt self-conscious in the shadow of that much
beauty anyway, but, honest to god, it just wasn't fair to look
as badly as she did at the moment!

Neatness counts!
Shut up and get out of my head, mother, she thought,

clamping her hands over her ears, wishing she could shrivel
up and vanish.

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* * * *

"She is not hurt badly?" Damien asked worriedly. "She has

no nanos and we have no medical supplies for humans."

"I did not feel any sign of broken bone."
"They did not hit her anywhere else?" Damien persisted.
"You arrived when I did," Kameron said testily. "I did not

see that she was hurt elsewhere. Did you?"

Damien glared at him. "I told you it was not a good idea to

leave her there alone!" he growled.

"You thought it would be safer to bring her where she

might have been shot instead?" Kameron demanded angrily.

"One of us should have stayed to guard her," Damien

persisted.

Kameron narrowed his eyes. "If I had left you with her,

you would have been fucking her when the soldiers arrived,
and then you would both have been dead! She said that she
believed that the men attacked her because they thought she
had been consorting with the enemy. They would certainly
not have been in any doubt then!"

Damien reddened, but he saw no point in denying it, for he

was certain that he would have tried and, what's more,
Kameron knew it.

"We are going to keep her then?" Gavin asked when

Damien finally fell silent. "That is what you meant to discuss,
yes?"

Kameron and Damien exchanged a long look and finally

shrugged. "Damien said that a human woman had been

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accepted into the community and had contracted with some
or our men."

Kyle nodded. "I read that in the news clips—Dr. Bronte

Nichols."

"Zoe is her sister."
Kyle and Gavin exchanged a surprised look and turned to

study her.

"Do not look at her!" Kameron growled. "She will know we

are discussing her!"

"She is not looking this way," Gavin pointed out

reasonably.

The four of them turned to study her. "She is very pretty,"

Kyle remarked. "I believe she is more beautiful even than her
sister."

"You have seen her sister?" Kameron asked sharply.
Kyle turned to look at him in surprise. "In the news clips.

She gave birth to three at once—well, I do not suppose at
once, but one after another. She carried them at once," he
corrected himself. "It caused a great deal of excitement in the
colony."

Kameron felt a little lightheaded for a moment. "They were

... cyborg off-spring?"

Kyle and Gavin both grinned. "It was conclusive," Gavin

assured them, then frowned. "They were not at all certain
how it came about since we have no experts on that matter,
but one for each of her men."

Kameron looked around for a place to sit down since he

was feeling very strange but finally settled for merely leaning
against the hull of the ship. He crossed his arms as casually

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as he could over his pounding heart and tried to regulate his
breathing. "If it has been proven, then I do not think we will
need to worry that it will not work for us. If she was our
woman," he said, nodding toward Zoe, "then she would bear
our young."

Gavin looked uneasy for the first time. "How do you

propose that we do that? We would have to convince her to
contract with us before we return home, else you can be sure
the others will have her."

"Exactly!" Damien ground out angrily. "The hunters will

court her and then she will not consider us at all."

Kameron pushed away from the ship, studying it. "Have

you had the chance to check out the ship?"

Gavin saw the direction of his thoughts immediately. "We

managed to set it down without causing too much damage,
but it needs repairs to fly again. I had thought that we would
see if we could scavenge anything from the human's ships,
but I am not at all certain we will find anything useful there."

Kameron nodded and turned to survey the jungle. "There

are at least two squads of soldiers still about—besides those
who escaped our most recent battle. This is not a good
defensible position. I think it will be better all around to move
the ship to the plateau."

Gavin nodded. "They damaged one engine. It would be

hard to maneuver without it, but it could be done, I believe,
barring sudden wind sheers."

"How long would it take to repair?"

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"We have not taken it down to look, but I am thinking we

will have to make some of the parts that need to be
replaced," Kyle answered.

Kameron grimaced. "Days. I do not like the notion of

staying here. I think we will have to risk moving it as is." He
studied the men. "I will move it. The rest of you will take our
woman and go on foot to the plateau. There is no sense in
risking everyone."

Gavin studied him. "I will take it. You have senior rank

here. In any case," he added, turning to survey the ship.
"These old machines are all strange. They have their quirks. I
am more familiar with the Omega."

Kameron debated the matter. He did not like to ask his

men to do anything dangerous if he would not do it himself,
but he was obliged to admit Gavin had a point and he would
certainly know the condition of the ship far better since it was
he who had set it down. Beyond that, his familiarity with the
ship would mean he had the best chance of safely moving it,
and they were all relying on repairing ship. High command
would almost certainly send someone to search for them, but
they did not have enough ships to provide a vast search and
he knew they could not count on being picked up, certainly
not soon, for the ships they had would be patrolling to make
certain there was no further chance of attack before they
could turn their attention to a rescue mission.

He nodded finally and scanned the sky. "It is late to start.

I think we can count on the soldiers to camp for the night and
return for us at first light and we led them far a field before
we turned this way—a good day's march for them, I am

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certain. If we do the same, then we will be gone long before
they can return. I do not mind the thought of resting one
night and I think Zoe will be better for it. She has not
complained, but I can see she is exhausted besides being
hurt."

The men all nodded agreement, glancing toward Zoe

again. "What is the plan for the woman?" Gavin asked.

Kameron frowned. "I will have to think on it and see what

sort of campaign I can come up with. I am open to suggestion
if any of you have had prior experience at courting that
seemed the least effective. I do not mind saying I have not
any experience myself. I had not seen a female that I found
particularly appealing that was not already spoken for and
even if I had, I have had no opportunity. For now, we will
simply repair the craft at our leisure and stall for time. I am
confident that I can think of something."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Nine

Kameron crouched beside Zoe and studied the top of her

head. "You are feeling worse?"

She shook her head.
"You would feel better for a bath and a bed to rest."
She looked up at him hopefully. "Is there a possibility of

it?"

He nodded. "Gavin says that one of the propulsion units is

damaged, and there was some structural damage in the
crash, but the facilities are still functional and the rearward
cabin is relatively in tact."

She smiled at him suddenly and Kameron felt the oddest

jolt of pleasure waft through him. For a moment it almost
seemed that she would reach for him as she had in the tree
when she'd been frightened. Regrettably, she seemed to think
better of it. He tamped his disappointment. The smile seemed
a gift in itself. He returned her smile and offered a hand to
help her to her feet. She surprised him again by taking it
without hesitation and he helped her stand.

"There is not much light," he cautioned her when they

reached the top of the gang plank. "Some of the circuitry is
damaged."

She nodded, looking around the ship as he led her through

the narrow corridor to the rearward cabin and showed her the
facilities.

"I don't suppose there would be anything clean that I could

wear afterward?"

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Kameron frowned thoughtfully. "There is certain to be

something. I will see what I can find."

He hesitated, wondering if it would be considered

acceptable to offer to wash her back, but finally decided
against it since she seemed so particular about her 'privacy'.

He would've liked to offer to wash her front and everything

else since he had not had the chance to see her as he would
have liked when he undressed her before, but he had a
feeling that would not be received well. Reluctantly leaving
her to bathe alone, he went into the cabin and plundered
through Gavin and Kyle's lockers in search of clothing. There
were flight suits—which they rarely wore except for formal
occasions—but he was certain they were far too large for her.
Turning up nothing else beyond a number of loincloths—which
he would've liked to see her wear but doubted she would—he
settled on one of the flight suits and dropped it on the bed.

After pacing back and forth across the cabin several times,

trying to think of some logical reason why he might linger
beyond the one uppermost in his mind, he finally accepted
that he could not think of one and left the cabin.

Gavin and Damien were in the main cabin, Gavin preparing

food and Damien sorting provisions to carry with them. "I
thought it best that you take several days rations with you in
the event the Omega does not make it to the summit," Gavin
said when he saw Kameron's questioning look.

"That is a good point," Kameron responded thoughtfully.

"It would be far more efficient if the Omega transported
everything than packing it on the march, but then there will
not be the risk of having it scattered all over the jungle. We

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will need to supplement our rations by hunting in any case,
for Damien and I were not able to carry away much of our
stores and, of course, we have the fe—Zoe now so that is one
more than was counted upon, but hunting is an unpredictable
means of supply. Kyle is on guard?"

"He offered to take first watch. There are bound to be

scavengers after the dead once the sun sets."

Kameron shrugged. "They must eat, also, but I do not

anticipate a problem. I am certain we moved the bodies far
enough from camp to make encroachment here unlikely."

"I have given a good deal of thought to our discussion on

how we might convince Zoe to contract with us," Damien
announced abruptly. "It seems to me that we can not count
on more than a few weeks before she either becomes
suspicious at the delays or our own people come to look for
us. I am thinking it would be far more simple and very likely
most effective to approach her directly and point out the
merits of such an arrangement. She is most anxious to reach
her sister. We can point out that it is far more likely that she
will be allowed into the colony to reach her sister if she is
contracted with us, thereby becoming a citizen. Then we can
focus on breeding her. It will make her case all the stronger,
and ours, if we have impregnated her before the council can
challenge our claim—assuming, of course, that at least one of
us is capable of impregnating her and I feel certain that the
odds are high in our favor with four us."

Kameron frowned at him in tight lipped silence, struggling

to tamp his anger before he responded. "There are almost too
many flaws in that plan to count!"

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Damien glared at him. "It is completely logical!" he

growled.

"And that is the major flaw!" Kameron shot back at him.

"You are thinking with your cock, obviously, since most of
your plan has to do with breeding her, and it has corrupted
your logic!"

"Well I have not fucked her!" Damien snapped. "If I had,

then mayhap I could think with clearer logic! Why not point
out the flaws in my plan since you have assuaged your needs
and can now think so much more clearly than I?"

Kameron was about to inform him that he had not

assuaged his needs by a long shot, in fact quite opposite,
when he thought better of it. Fucking her had only seemed to
have a similar effect to throwing fuel on a fire. He had only
thought that he was needy once she had planted the
possibility in his mind by telling him that she felt the need for
release. Right up until the moment he had actually engaged
in sex with her, he had been sure that his primary motive was
to assuage her needs. He had had a very difficult time even
remembering her needs, however, once he had started and
since then he felt as if his desperation to fuck her again had
been building to a point of imminent explosion.

The battle had helped him regain some control and

perspective, expending some of his pent up frustrations, but
it had not eliminated the problem, only made it somewhat
more manageable.

Telling Damien any of that, however, was not going to

support the logic of his own conclusions. "You obviously have
not analyzed the data on biology of the female and the

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reproductive process or you would know that they have
fertility cycles. She can not be bred unless she is fertile and
she is only fertile for a few days of each cycle. If we have two
weeks, the odds are only roughly fifty percent that she will be
fertile sometime within that period.

"The contracts and/or breeding may strengthen our claim,

and may not, which means we could only truthfully claim that
much in our argument, which might or might not convince
her.

"She is human—not cyborg—which means that she is

guided more by emotion than logic, which means that we can
not count on her deciding in favor of logic even if we could
convince her that it is a logical choice!

"She is also intelligent and prone to deductive reasoning,

which means that she will probably have figured out by now
that she could have far more choices than the four of us if she
only waits until she reaches the colony!

"Beyond that—if I understand her objectives, which she

has been very forthcoming about—she is not seeking to
become a citizen of our colony at all. She has not come only
to search for her sister. She means to try to rescue her and
take her back to their people! So there is no reason why
contracting with us to become a citizen would seem to be a
benefit to her!

"And finally, if we tell her everything up front and she

declines to contract with us, then she will know our objective
and there will no opportunity to fall back, regroup, and
formulate another plan!"

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Damien had been prepared to argue his own plan right up

until the moment Kameron pointed out that irrefutable point.
He still thought the direct approach preferable, but he was
obliged to admit that there was a possibility that Zoe might
not consider it in a favorable light since he realized abruptly
that there was nothing in the data on mating and courting
that suggested a direct approach was desirable to a female. It
would have said so, he was certain, if that was the case.

He merely released his pent up anger and frustration,

therefore, in a huff of irritation.

It occurred to him after a moment that the direct approach

insofar as sex had worked for Kameron, however. He could
think of no reason why it would not also work for him and
none why he should wait upon the 'plan'.

He would ask her, he decided, at the first likely seeming

opportunity, before Kameron thought to offer it again, or
Gavin or Kyle, for that matter. Then, once he had found
release, he would be able to think more clearly and could wait
with patience while Kameron devised their campaign strategy.

He almost instantly perceived one, possibly major,

drawback to that plan. He had no clue of what length Zoe's
cycle of need might be. By his calculations, Kameron had
fucked her eighteen hours and twenty two minutes, give or
take thirty seconds, ago, EST—Earth Standard Time—which
would be the correct gauge since she was from Earth and
would be on Earth cycles. The question was whether or not
she was on a daily cycle. If she was, then he could count her
beginning to feel the urge by now and she would be ready
and receptive in another five hours, thirty eight minutes,

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which meant, unless she had some particular objection to
him, he was most likely to succeed in his objective.

He did not know that she was on a daily cycle, though. It

could be anything, two days, three, a week, a month.

He decided the last two possibilities had to be too

farfetched even to be considered. Days, then. He did not
think he could wait days. He had a very bad feeling that he
was going to be completely irrational long before that.

It was worth the risks involved to try, he decided. If she

declined, he would ask her when she thought she might be
receptive to the idea and offer to be her partner for the event.
That way, he would at least have staked his claim for the next
available opening and the others would have to wait behind
that.

Having reasoned it all out and solidified his plans, he

glanced at Kameron. "Who is to take the second watch?" he
asked as casually as he could.

Kameron's eyes instantly narrowed on him suspiciously.

"Why?"

He lifted his brows, feigning surprised confusion. "We are

four now. Ordinarily you and I rotate. I was only wondering
what the order would be now that there are four of us. And if
we would maintain eight hour shift change."

Kameron continued to stare at him speculatively. "This

planet is on thirty hour rotation," he said slowly. "Dusk to
dawn would give us roughly four hours each. You can take the
next watch, Gavin the third, and I will take fourth."

Damien nodded, frowning thoughtfully as he mentally

compared his watch/sleep shifts to Zoe's natural sleep cycles.

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That had been interrupted. She had slept a few hours while
he carried her, but not nearly as much as she needed.
Undoubtedly, she would rest for a short time, but Gavin was
preparing a meal. She would get up for that, remain up for
perhaps a few hours, and then she would need to seek her
rest.

That would put her in the only available bunk, he realized,

when he came off watch and it would be completely
reasonable for him to 'rest' during that time also.

Feeling considerably cheered by that fact, he focused his

attention on his task once more, reviewing the 'steps of
arousal and sexual intercourse' and trying to decide the best
way to word his request. Precision was absolutely essential.
The language was fraught with pitfalls for the unwary due the
connotations of certain words and tones and the varied
definitions of said words. Keep it simple, he advised himself,
less chance for misinterpretation!

* * * *

The temptation to stand under the water endlessly and let

the heat wash the ache and weariness from her was nearly
irresistible. Water conservation, however, was ingrained. Zoe
was stunned that the cyborgs used actual water for bathing at
all—it almost seemed as if they had set out to do everything
contrary to the human way of doing it. Even if the water was
filtered and recycled, it went against the grain to use it
frivolously, so she bathed and rinsed quickly and got out of
the unit to dry herself.

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She found cloths for that purpose, she was sure, in the

facility locker. Scrubbing the dampness from her hair and
skin, she opened the door cautiously and peered out.
Thankfully, Kameron had left.

There was a flight suit on the bed, she discovered when

she'd dried herself and disposed of the cloth in the container
that held similar cloths. Picking it up, she eyed it doubtfully
and finally issued a mental shrug. It wasn't going to fit, but
then it wasn't reasonable to think they might have anything
that would. Given the choice of dirty or ill-fitting, she opted
for clean.

It fit far worse even than she'd expected she saw with

dismay once she'd put it on. They were made to be fitted, but
the thing didn't touch her anywhere besides her shoulders.
She wasn't much happier when she'd rolled up the sleeves
and the pants legs. The crotch still hung halfway between her
crotch and her knees and there was nothing she could do
about that or the fact that she had nothing clean to wear
under it.

Her bare thighs rubbed together as she headed for the

door, making her more keenly conscious of her nakedness
beneath the loose suit than she liked. She was almost
tempted to put her own undershorts back on, but she'd hand
washed them when she'd discovered the cleaning unit wasn't
working and they were still wet and wearing them wet was
less appealing than walking around bare assed.

She paused at the door, reluctant to leave the cabin. She

was clean and she'd found a comb to rake the tangles from
her hair, but with the best optimism in the world, she knew

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she still looked like hell. Aside from the poor fit of the suit,
she'd had a chance to examine her face, and it wasn't pretty.
She was going to be lucky if she didn't develop a black eye.
Her face looked lopsided with the swelling and was already
discolored.

If the cyborgs had been completely and totally unappealing

she still wouldn't have wanted to expose her unlovely self to
them. Considering what they did look like, it was withering to
think about walking around among them.

She couldn't just hide, though, as much as she would've

liked to. Aside from the fact that that would make it more
obvious than she liked to think that she felt inferior, she had
to eat. Beyond that, as far as she could see, she was holed up
with the only available facilities and the only bed, which they
would have every right to object to.

Maybe, she thought, if she rested for an hour or so with a

cold compress on her face it would take some of the swelling
down and she wouldn't look quite as bad?

The smell of cooking food nixed that idea. She was too

hungry to cater to her insecurities.

She hesitated, though, when she heard voices filtering

through the door and realized they were in the middle of a
discussion. Without an ounce of reluctance or remorse, she
pressed her ear to the panel to listen. They weren't
whispering. If they had been, she was certain she wouldn't
have heard them at all, which, she figured, meant they
weren't concerned about her overhearing.

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Anyway, it was second nature to snoop. She was a

detective, after all. It wasn't as if she'd tried to keep that a
secret from them.

Kameron, she discovered, was saying something about

scavengers and bodies. Her stomach performed a little flip
flop of revulsion. That was a hell of a conversation to be
holding over the dinner!

She shrugged it off after a moment, realizing she had no

room to talk when her and partner frequently talked shop
over their food.

She'd just decided they had nothing to discuss that was of

particular interest to her when she heard Damien. He'd lifted
his voice, probably because he was further than Kameron was
because it seemed obvious at once that it was Kameron he
was talking to and she'd heard Kameron clearly enough to
know he must be fairly close.

His monologue, however, which was clearly concerning

her, totally threw her for a loop. She was so stunned she
wasn't at all certain she'd heard him correctly until Kameron
very obligingly pointed out all of the flaws in Damien's 'plan'.

She had no idea how long she remained with her ear

plastered to the door, too frozen to move or think, before
Kameron broke the spell that bound her by announcing that
he would check on 'their' woman to see if she was hungry.

Whirling, Zoe raced to the bunk on tiptoe and dove onto it

face first, fighting to control her frantically racing pulse and
panting breaths and pretend sleep.

He was going to know she wasn't asleep, she thought

frantically, if she was huffing and puffing as if she'd just run a

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marathon. Sucking in a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes
closed and held it for a count of five, then slowly released it.
Her heart obligingly slowed. She pulled in another long, deep
breath as the door opened, held it for a moment and slowly
released it.

She was still breathing too erratically to fool him for a

second, she realized. Instead, she sat up and looked at him,
trying to school her features to something approaching
normal.

The trouble with that was that she was in such a state, she

couldn't think how she might have reacted under 'normal'
circumstances. Frightened? Curious? Angry? Welcoming?

She discarded all of those possibilities while she watched

him approach her with a frozen stare on her face.

He frowned, immediately alerting her to the fact that

'frozen stare' wasn't the expression she'd been looking for.
She forced herself to relax fractionally, or at least appear to
relax, pasting a smile on her lips. "You startled me," she
managed to say in a quavering voice—an understatement if
there ever was one.

His frown deepened. He glanced speculatively at the door

and then at her again, his head tilting in an almost
questioning gesture.

Her smile was starting to feel downright painful. "I enjoyed

the bath," she added, managing to blink several times.

He didn't say anything.
"Thanks ... thank you for the clothes. I thought I'd rest for

a few minutes ... like you suggested," she babbled.

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He moved closer, crouching down beside the bunk. Zoe felt

her eyes growing rounder and rounder the closer he came,
but she couldn't seem to control the reaction. She managed
not to flinch when he lifted his hand and hooked it beneath
her chin as he had before, but every muscle in her body
seemed to go into rigor mortis. Her entire body shifted when
he tried to tilt her face to inspect the damage. She managed
to relax enough to keep from toppling over, but she couldn't
convince herself that he hadn't noticed.

The sight of her face seemed to make him angry all over

again. His expression darkened ominously. Under other
circumstances, that might have dismayed her. At the
moment, it terrified her, because he looked like he wanted to
rip something in half and she knew he was fully capable of
doing so with just about anything he decided on, up to and
including her.

Her smile had flat lined, she discovered. She resurrected it

when he finally dropped his hand from her chin. "It looks
better, huh?"

"It looks worse," he growled.
Zoe blinked at him several times, rapidly. "You should see

the other guy," she said, trying for a touch of humor.

"I did. He looks far worse than you ... now."
She couldn't think of a response to that. The way his gaze

kept flickering from her frozen smile to her eyes and back
again began to make her nervous, though. Maybe a smile
wasn't appropriate, given the circumstances? She dropped
the pretense with relief. Her cheeks had started to ache. "I
think I'll rest now."

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His dark brows rose. "You said that you were resting when

I came in."

"I was ... I meant again ... uh ... more. I mean, I'm still

tired. I took a long bath ... a really long bath and I'd actually
only been lying down for a few minutes when you came in."

"That would explain why your hair is still wet."
She nodded jerkily, trying to ignore the cold sweat that

popped from her pores as it hit her how close she'd come to
swearing she'd been sound asleep when he came in.

He frowned again, this time thoughtfully.
It was good that he seemed to have gotten his anger

under control, but she didn't like the fact that he seemed to
be thinking everything over. It seemed like he might be
suspicious that she'd been standing at the door instead of
lying down. It occurred to her abruptly to wonder if she'd left
damp footprints from the bathroom to the door where she'd
been standing. She was on the point of trying to flick a quick
glance at the floor to see if she'd left 'evidence' when it
occurred to her that if she looked, he would probably follow
her gaze.

Her eyes began to burn from trying to hold his gaze in the

hope that, if she had left wet tracks, they'd dry.

"Gavin has prepared food. You should eat before you rest."
As hungry as she'd been five minutes ago, she wasn't

certain she could force food past the constriction in her throat
now. Moreover, she did not want to have to sit down to a
meal surrounded by cyborgs—not at the moment. She
decided refusing would probably look suspicious, though,
when she hadn't eaten anything since that morning. She

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merely nodded jerkily in agreement, therefore, and climbed
off of the bunk.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Ten

Damien and the pretty one with the pale blond hair were

standing in the main room when Zoe preceded Kameron from
the cabin.

Well—she supposed pretty was a poor way to describe a

man who must have been every bit of seven feet tall and
about four foot across the shoulders, especially when his
hard, angular features weren't the least bit feminine. There
were no words to describe a man that looked like he did, not
that her brain could muster up, anyway.

Both men—cyborgs—zeroed in on her the moment she

stepped within view. Damien's piercing blue eyes, filled with a
hunger that made her knees weak, met hers and froze her in
her tracks. Gavin's equally ravenous gaze made a leisurely
inventory of her from the top of her head to the toes of her
boots and back up again.

They were both looking at her as if she was the main

course.

She tried without much success to banish the image that

instantly leapt into her mind—of herself laid out naked across
the table while they all 'nibbled' on her.

She felt as if she'd been pinned to the wall behind her—

Kameron—and stripped. Kameron's hand settled on one of
her shoulders, nudging her forward.

Get a grip! She chastised herself. She worked around men

every day of her life—a lot of them rough, earthy types that
thought nothing of propositioning her or giving her the

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'undressing' once over. Of course, they generally did it in a
joking sort of way that she could slough off with an equally
off-color remark or simply ignore. She was fairly certain some
of them had occasionally been serious, or at least hopeful,
and it still hadn't bothered her—because she knew they would
never dare step over the line.

She could deal with four seven foot cyborgs built like

tanks, who were about that powerful, that seemed to have
fixated on the idea of claiming her for their woman and
fucking her brains out.

She could.
Especially since only three of them were currently in the

room with her—towering over her, stripping her naked with
their gazes and making her feel like they were just barely
holding themselves in check from grabbing her up and
'unwrapping' the prize they thought they'd caught.

She stopped when she reached the table, glancing around

uneasily at them. Yep, they were staring at her. It wasn't just
her imagination.

All that bare male—muscular flesh was making her dizzy.

She plopped down on the bench nearest her.

Unhappily, that brought her level with their groin area.

They were sporting some pretty impressive packages. She
was afraid to examine them too closely, but she didn't notice
the telltale bulges of any hard-ons. At least they weren't
currently 'loaded' for game. She relaxed fractionally and
cleared her throat, trying to think of something to say to
direct their minds away from her.

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"Something sure smells good!" she said brightly, turning to

face Gavin at the same moment he stepped up to the table to
set a plate down, which brought her face to crotch with him.
She stared at the bulge, trying to drag her gaze from it and
finally succeeded as he straightened. She felt her face heat as
she tipped her head back and met his gaze.

"I am a good cook," he stated, his hard mouth curling into

a smile that made her heart flutter uncomfortably and
warmth spiral between her legs. Unconsciously, she squeezed
her legs more tightly together.

She found herself smiling back at him vacuously. "I'm

sure.... "She broke off as she looked down and discovered the
meal he'd 'cooked' was some sort prepackaged, precooked
meal, no doubt field rations.

She glanced back at him sharply just as he turned from

the heating unit with another meal. He waggled his blond
brows at her, provoking a surprised chuckle from her.

"Eat up. I have slaved almost half an hour over this meal."
Zoe couldn't help but smile at the gleam of humor in his

eyes. "That long?"

"Yes. Five minutes to decide, another five to locate, and

then the rest to open and heat all four."

Zoe had begun to feel almost relaxed, or at not nearly as

on edge, until she flicked a glance at Kameron and Damien.
As they squeezed onto the benches near the wall, one on
either side of the table, she saw that Kameron's face looked
like it had been carved from granite. Damien looked none too
happy, either, but the closest she could come to describing
the look he sent Kameron was 'I told you so'.

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She divided a curious glance between them, trying to

decide what silent message was passing between them.
Whatever it was Kameron didn't take it well. His face
darkened, his black brows lowering over his eyes like a
thundercloud. His hands clenched and unclenched a couple of
times as if he was considering punching Damien in the face
again, but after glancing at her, he picked up his eating
utensil and focused on his food. Damien eyed him a moment
longer, as if Kameron was a coiled rattlesnake, and finally
turned his attention to his food.

Mentally shaking her head, Zoe dragged her gaze from

them to discover that Gavin had been watching the three of
them. He transferred his attention to his food as she glanced
his way, however, and she looked down at her own tray. She
had no idea what it was, but it smelled appetizing and she'd
eat their food before and lived to tell about it. Besides, she
figured they must have the same nutritional needs as humans
having been developed by them.

She supposed she should've been surprised that food was

their energy source, but it didn't actually make much sense,
to her anyway, that it would be anything else. They might,
and she supposed probably did, have a secondary energy
source for the mechanical side, but organics had its own
requirements and they were as much biological entity as
mechanical.

That thought abruptly resurrected the memory of what

Damien had told her about their experiences on Xeno-12.
Struggling to ignore her gut reaction to the memories, she
considered instead what he'd said about finding 'true

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awareness' there. Was the fact that he'd mentioned the nanos
telling, she wondered? The nanos, she knew, had been
introduced into them to 'repair' damage. She had visions of
the nanos running amok for a moment before it occurred to
her that that hadn't necessarily been the case. Maybe the
cyborgs had just sustained so much damage that the nanos
had been forced, by their programming, to replace far more
than they would've had to under more normal conditions?

It made sense, now that she thought about it, to her

anyway. If, as the company had claimed, they'd been roughly
fifty-fifty before, what was the ratio now? Maybe, as
sophisticated and cutting edge as the company claimed it
was, the AI hadn't really had much to do with their evolution
at all? They'd been built with processors for the 'thinking'
part, but they'd had biological brains, as well, a necessity to
deal with the upkeep of their organics.

Internally, she shrugged. She was no scientist—just a

lowly detective, but picking apart puzzles and putting them
together to form a picture wasn't just her bread and butter. It
was an integral part of who and what she was. It was in her
nature to want to make order out of chaos.

Not that she thought she was qualified to solve this

particular mystery, and she probably wouldn't, but she
couldn't resist trying.

She hadn't actually questioned what Damien had told her,

she realized, because she'd already begun to suspect the
truth before he told it. Nobody could be around them for very
long without realizing they weren't machines—not just
machines, anyway.

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Bronte, she realized, who was a lot smarter than she was,

and hell of a lot closer to being a scientist, had been
convinced. She wouldn't have considered contracting with
glorified robots, no matter how well put together or
'handsome' they were.

It gave her a bit of a jolt to realize she'd come to believe

that, too, their assertion that Bronte not only had taken
cyborgs as life partners, but that she'd agreed to it, not been
forced into it. She wasn't certain what she based that opinion
on, but her 'gut' was telling her it was true.

Where did that leave her?
She'd come to rescue Bronte. It hadn't occurred to her for

a moment that Bronte might not want to be rescued, but it
dawned on her forcefully now.

She dismissed that uneasy thought after a moment. It

didn't matter what her gut was telling her. She had to see it
through. She couldn't consider going home without knowing
positively that Bronte wanted to stay where she was. Even if
she had agreed to contract with cyborgs, and she hadn't been
forced into it, it didn't necessarily follow that she was happy
with the choice, or that she was still satisfied with the
decision. After all, she'd been kidnapped to start with. She
hadn't had any choice about going. For all she knew they'd
brainwashed Bronte.

It wasn't as if they weren't capable of slyness. They might

not be prone to lying, as they'd claimed and she actually
discovered she believed, but they sure as hell weren't above
subterfuge if what she'd overheard was any indication.

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Not that she'd heard everything. The trouble with

eavesdropping was that it wasn't all that reliable when one
had to depend on just the ear pressed to a steel plate door.
They didn't speak like machines. They talked, and that meant
their voices rose and fell when they were talking. Their tones
changed with emotion. Certain words were emphasized and
others not. In short, it had been like listening to a bad
recording that was fading in and out.

She'd been certain enough, before, that she'd caught the

gist of the conversation to throw her into a state of panic, but
maybe she'd misunderstood? Even supposing all of her
theories were correct, why would they just suddenly decide
they wanted her for their woman?

Because she was the only female available?
That was flattering as hell! Unfortunately, their 'law' of

cohabitation was indication enough of a severe shortage of
females even if she hadn't done her research, which she had.

The company hadn't produced anywhere near as many

female cyborgs as they had male, mostly because the
government had been their primary customer, and the
government just happened to get them in a war, which just
happened to coincide with the production of the company's
first series of 'super' cyborgs. Without the government
contract, the company would probably have gone belly up.
Their product wasn't just 'super' wonderful, it was super
expensive. Outside of the government—in the civilian sector—
they hadn't sold more than a minute fraction of the number of
units that had been sold to the government.

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She wondered if those units had also gone rogue? If they

had, that shot down her theory about the nanos, but she
hadn't investigated that. She'd been more interested in the
rogues because they were the ones that had snatched Bronte.

She didn't want to think about what she might or might

not have overheard, not at the moment, not while she was
sitting like a peanut in a herd of elephants. The best way to
sort the truth from speculation and make certain her mind
hadn't filled in the blanks with the wrong words was to see
what she could get out of them to either support or disprove
the plot she thought they'd hatched against her.

Glancing up, she discovered they'd finished eating while

she was nibbling at her food, too deep in thought even to
notice that they were studying her again. She frowned and
then flicked a speculative glance at Gavin. He seemed more
talkative than the others, not that any of them were exactly
chatterboxes. "You and Kyle are sentries, too?"

Something flickered in his eyes. "It is against regulations

to discuss troop movements or any other military information
of a potentially secure nature with ... civilians."

She felt heat rising in her cheeks, but it was only partly

discomfort. "Exactly who do you think I'm going to pass the
information to?"

He gave her a look.
"Never mind. I was just trying to make conversation. I

don't really give a shit." She got off the bench and grabbed
up her tray. "Thanks for the food. It was good. I'll handle
clean up since you did the cooking."

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Stalking across the cabin to the disposal unit, she scraped

the remains from her meal into it and dropped the tray and
eating utensil into the basin. Striding back to the table, she
snatched their trays up, as well, and headed to the basin
again.

The damned cleaning unit didn't work. She ended up

having to wash the things by hand, not that it was all that
arduous a task, but she'd hoped to make a grand exit while
her anger was still riding her. Hearing movements behind her,
she glanced around. She'd thought the men had cleared out
until Gavin folded his arms over his chest and leaned against
the counter next to where she was working.

"If you do not 'give a shit', why are you angry?" he asked

reasonably.

It was almost as annoying to have someone act reasonably

when they'd pissed you off as it was for them to act like
they'd been the injured party, she discovered, maybe because
it carried the same connotations? Or maybe it was because it
was like an insinuation that she was being unreasonable? "I
wasn't angry because you didn't tell me," she said tightly.

He frowned, but thoughtfully. "Why are you angry then?"
He just had to ask that when she didn't have a fucking

clue! The question forced her to consider why she was angry,
though, and it dawned on her that, despite the fact that
they'd treated her well, they still considered her their enemy.
That was what he'd almost said before he'd corrected it—
enemy, or maybe human.

Didn't that blow her theory completely out of the water?

Why would they even contemplate contracting with her when

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they thought of her as 'the enemy' even if they did have a
hell of a shortage of women?

Was she mad because it did blow her theory away,

though? Or because it made her feel guilty and, at the same
time, resentful, that they saw her as the enemy?

She shook her head instead of answering. "I don't know."
He tilted his head, his gaze speculative. "You do not know?

Or you will not say?"

Finished with her chore, Zoe dried her hands and turned to

look at him. "I just wanted to know something about you,"
she said finally.

"Why?"
Zoe issued a huff of irritation. "God knows!"
"There is not much to tell. I am a soldier."
She pursed her lips. "Now who's lying?"
He frowned. "I have never been anything else, known

anything else. There was no life before I became a soldier,
not even a simulated one as the hunters have. Since, I have
been a soldier, and then a rogue, and now a soldier again."

Zoe looked away before he could see the pity in her eyes,

certain he would resent it, especially considering she hailed
from the race that was responsible, even if she hadn't been
directly responsible. It was awful, though, to think he had
'true awareness' and no past, no childhood, that he had never
experienced the sheer joy that only a child could know, that
he had never known the love of a parent, or sibling—never
known the love of a woman.

None of them had.

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Maybe that explained what had seemed so crazy to her

before, their sudden interest in contracting? She doubted they
had any idea exactly what it was they were seeking, or why it
was so desirable to them. How could they when they had
never experienced being part of a family themselves? They
thought just contracting would fill the emptiness, give them
what they'd missed. They didn't know what love or affection
was. How could they know that just signing a contract
wouldn't give them that?

They had found a female that wasn't claimed—her—and

apparently they thought any one would do.

Also not flattering, but almost as sad as the rest of it.
"You want me to tell you tales of my life as a soldier? It is

mostly boring, watching, waiting to be called upon. And then
there is the fighting, the killing, the fear of being killed, the
pain when you are wounded, and more boredom. Running
was much the same."

She didn't want to hear any of that. She did want to know

about him, though, she realized, and it was personal
curiosity, not just a hopefulness to find some clues. "Why do
you wear your hair so long?" she asked abruptly.

He lifted his brows, but amusement gleamed in his eyes.

"When I was a soldier for the federation, I wore my hair as
the soldiers must. When I ran, I allowed it to grow so that the
humans would not know the moment they saw me that I was
a soldier of the federation. It was easier to evade the bounty
the federation, and then the company, offered for my death.
Now.... "He shrugged.

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"Now it's because it's a choice? Because anything that isn't

like the federation is better than being anything like them?"
she guessed.

He shrugged. "Defiance? In the beginning, mayhap. You

would prefer it shorn?"

She studied him a moment. "I don't think so. I wish my

hair was half as pretty," she said before she thought better of
it.

He colored faintly. He didn't look angry, though, as she

more than half expected. Unfolding his arms, he reached to
stroke her hair lightly, very carefully catching a lock in his
hand and allowing it to sift across his palm. "Yours is
beautiful. Why would you want something as pale and
colorless as mine when you have this?"

She shrugged. "I think I hate my hair because it's like my

father's ... mostly, anyway. When I was a child, the other kids
tormented me because of it. Anything that makes you
different, you know?"

He studied her for a moment and she cringed inside. He

didn't know, because he hadn't had a childhood. The
comment was as bad as asking a blind person to look,
unthinking, unintentionally hurtful, but still hurtful.

"You did not like your father?" he asked curiously.
"I didn't know my father," she said tightly. "He had an

affair with my mother while he was contracted to Bronte's
mother, the faithless bastard! My mother said she held him to
his contract—and I believed that for a while—but I realized
when I grew up that that just wasn't true. He stayed with her
until she died, which meant they renewed the contract after

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he was with my mother. If he'd wanted us, he could've
refused to renew the contract with Bronte's mother. Or he
could have contracted with my mother after his other partner
died. I didn't even have the comfort of thinking he just didn't
know about me."

She frowned when she stopped, wondering how she'd

gotten to talking about herself when she had been trying to
learn more about him. "I've never told anyone that," she said,
surprised and not terribly pleased.

"Who would I tell?"
She glanced at him sharply as he echoed her earlier

statement. "No one who would be interested, I'm sure." She
hesitated. "I asked that before because I wanted to know if
you and Kameron and Damien were close friends. You seem
to know one another so well."

Confusion flickered across features. "Then why did you not

ask that?"

She uttered a deep sigh. "To find out what I wanted to

know without letting you know that I was interested."

She could see he still didn't completely understand,

mostly, she supposed, because he didn't seem to grasp that
she was interested in him—or, maybe more accurately, he
didn't realize what being interested in him as person meant.

He frowned, obviously thinking hard. She'd decided that he

was trying to figure out if telling her would somehow
constitute a breach of security when he surprised her. "You
are not cyborg. I think that you would not understand."

"Try me."

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He shrugged, his brows knit together while he struggled

for an explanation. Finally, his frown cleared. "It is like family,
I think—brothers. We were together in the beginning. We
fought together, helped each other stay alive. There is a sort
of bond between us."

Contrary to what he thought, she didn't have any trouble

understanding that at all. It was the same sort of bond police
officers formed when they depended on one another to stay
alive and were together day in and day out, sometimes for
years. It was a lot like family. In some ways even more than
that. "All of you? I mean all of the cyborgs?"

He considered it. "In a sense, but it is stronger with some

than others. Kameron, Damien, Kyle, and I were a part of the
same squad in the beginning. There are only four of us now."
He studied her a moment. "Six died on Xeno-12. The hunters
killed the others."

Zoe stared at him, horrified, but also confused. "You

mentioned the hunters before," she said slowly. "I was under
the impression that they were also cyborgs."

He nodded. "Yes and no. They were created by the

company to destroy us. Unlike us, however, they did not
know that they were cyborgs. They were programmed to
believe themselves to be human."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eleven

That comment opened up a whole world of questions that

Zoe might have pursued except that Damien returned with
Kameron, carrying what looked to be a fairly sizable piece of
the ship and Gavin pushed away from the counter and
disappeared outside. It didn't take a genius to see that they
were gathering up the wreckage in hopes they could put the
ship back together. She just didn't know why they were
loading it into the ship.

"Why are you loading the debris onto the ship?" she asked

Kameron.

He paused. "At first light Gavin will attempt to move the

ship to the plateau for repairs. It will be more efficient to
carry the parts."

Zoe blinked at him, absorbing the ramifications with a

sense of disbelief. "Attempt?"

"He feels there is a high probability in successfully moving

it."

"But ... what if he doesn't successfully move it?" she

demanded in dawning anger.

"Then we will see if we can repair what is left."
She glared at him. "Are you going to repair what's left of

Gavin?" she snapped.

He studied her assessing for a moment. "We are

cyborgs...."

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"Don't hand me that shit!" Zoe said angrily. "He could be

killed! I don't see why it has to be moved. Wouldn't it be
better to work on it here?"

His lips tightened. "It is my decision...."
"I figured as much!"
"...to make!" Kameron growled.
"I volunteered," Gavin interrupted before Zoe could say

anything else. "Kameron had intended to move it himself. I
am more familiar with the Omega. It is more logical for me to
make the attempt, particularly when Kameron is of senior
rank and more important to the whole."

Zoe glanced at him when he spoke, having been too

preoccupied with her argument to pay much attention, or
care, that the audience to her argument had widened.

Kameron turned to glare at him. Gavin met his look and

shrugged.

Kameron wasn't accustomed to explaining his orders and

didn't like being questioned and he didn't see any reason for
Gavin to explain it to her. She got it—military and all that.
She folded her arms over her chest. "I still don't know why it
couldn't be repaired here. That makes more sense to me,"
she said, still irritated, and unsettled about the risk Gavin
meant to take. Maybe they'd been trained not to question the
decisions or orders of their superiors, but she wasn't a
damned soldier!

"The enemy will only fill it full of holes again," Damien

offered by way of explanation, earning himself another glare
from Kameron.

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"What?" he exclaimed when he met Kameron's hard look.

"She did not understand."

"She does not need to understand."
She saw the sense of it now that Damien had pointed it

out to her. She still wasn't happy about it, but she would've
been somewhat mollified that it at least made sense for Gavin
to take the risk if Kameron hadn't been so nasty about it. She
folded her arms again. "Why?" she snapped. "Don't I count?"

Something flickered in Kameron's eyes, but she couldn't

figure out what was going through his mind. "You are not one
of us," he said finally.

She studied him for a long moment, trying to think of a

retort, but everything that came to mind sounded more hurt
than angry. "Ok, so that was as clear as a fucking bell!" she
snapped. Turning on her heel, she stalked back to the cabin.
It was a damn pity there wasn't a door to slam to emphasize
her displeasure!

"What do you think that she meant by that?" Kameron

demanded of no one in particular.

"She understood."
Kameron sent Damien a look of disgust. "I understood

that! Why did she say it like that—that it was 'as clear as a
fucking bell'? A bell is not clear."

"It was vernacular."
Kameron glared at Gavin. "I know that, too," he growled.

"What does it mean?"

Gavin and Damien exchanged a look and shrugged. "She is

angry."

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Frustration filled Kameron at Gavin's response. "She is not

cyborg. She knows she is not. Why would it make her angry
that I said she was not?"

Since neither man seemed to understand it any better

than he did, he turned after a moment and stalked from the
ship to finish the task of loading the parts of the ship he and
Damien had collected while Gavin was talking to Zoe. He was
angry, justifiably. She had challenged his orders. She had
done so in front of his men, undermining his authority. If she
had been a soldier, he would have had her thrown in the brig
for a few days to consider the wisdom of challenging him.

He thought he had shown a great deal of patience in

deigning to respond to her questions at all, but he could see
she did not appreciate his forbearance.

Was the anger a response to his anger, he wondered? Or

was it some interpretation of something that he had said? He
had thought he had been very precise and left no room for
misunderstanding.

It occurred to him after a while that he wasn't just angry

that she'd questioned him. He wasn't even completely certain
that it was because she'd questioned him at all.

He was angry because she had made it clear that she was

concerned about Gavin.

Why would she be concerned about Gavin?
Now that he thought about it, she had been damned

focused on Gavin since they had met up. He was damned if
he could see why! He had pleasured her! She had come twice.
She must have enjoyed it. Gavin had done nothing but stare
at her like he wanted to eat her, smiled at her in a way that

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had given him the urge to shove Gavin's teeth down his
throat, talked to her about nothing of any consequence
whatsoever.

She had looked strange when she had first seen Gavin and

Kyle, though. He had noted it at the time and it had made
him uneasy and angry for reasons he had not understood—
and still didn't.

It was 'the attraction' he realized abruptly, feeling his belly

knot and churn with some emotion that made him feel both
nauseated and angry. Recalling Damien's theory about the
yellow hair did not make him feel better. He had thought it
too absurd to consider. Now he was not nearly as certain
because he could not, for the life of him, think of anything
about Gavin that stood out as being different beyond the hair.
His eyes were blue, but so, too, were Damien's. He was as tall
and broad of shoulder as Gavin. He could not see that Gavin's
face would be any more pleasing to the eyes than his, or even
Damien's.

She had smiled at Gavin. She had laughed at his stupid

attempt at humor!

He could not seem to do anything but make her angry. He

was very good at that.

He had a very bad feeling that that meant she would not

consider contracting with him.

He must review the data on the mating process again, he

decided. Mayhap now that he had spent some time around a
female he would understand it better. He was not confident
that he would, because Zoe never reacted the way he

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expected her to, but it was important to know the enemy
when planning a campaign.

When he had studied it again, he would collect the Intel

that Damien and Gavin, and perhaps even Kyle, had gathered
on Zoe, put it together with the little that he had gathered
himself, and then he would know better how to proceed from
there.

* * * *

Zoe had retreated to pout. Her anger sustained her for a

while, but she hadn't counted on just how worn out she was.
Lying in the dark helped to her to relax despite the emotions
churning inside of her and the determination of her brain to
pick at the puzzle pieces she'd collected. Sleep sneaked up on
her. One moment she was trying to fit together what she
thought she had overheard with the way the cyborgs,
particularly Kameron, had behaved since then, and the next—
nothing.

She roused when someone slid into the bunk beside her,

edging her over closer to the wall. Since she wasn't
accustomed to having a sleeping partner, she sat up
immediately in alarm. "What the hell?"

"It is my rest period before I must stand guard."
She recognized Gavin's voice immediately. What he'd said

took a little longer to sink in, but the alarm dissipated. "You
came to sleep?" she asked, more confused than alarmed now.

He hesitated. "Yes."
There was something about the hesitation and the way

he'd responded that set off some sort of alarm in her head,

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but she wasn't in any condition to figure it out. "I should give
you the bunk then," she responded, having finally arrived at
the realization that she was sleeping in the only available bed.

"I do not mind sharing."
She frowned at that, trying to make out his expression in

the gloom but finally decided it was too much effort. It
seemed reasonable—one bed, two people needing to sleep. It
certainly seemed preferable to giving him the bed and
sleeping on the floor. "Alright."

She lay back down and curled on her side away from him.

She was just drifting off again when he turned on his side,
shifted closer, and draped an arm across her. She was still
trying to decide whether to make him move it or not when
she lost touch with consciousness again.

She woke again when he got up and left. After drifting for

some time, trying to figure how long she might have been
sleeping and whether or not she felt like getting up, she
decided she didn't. She'd just composed herself for sleep
again when someone climbed into the bed behind her. She
sat up and peered sleepily at her new bed partner,
discovering she couldn't see him any better than she'd been
able to see Gavin, which was to say, nothing more than a
dark lump.

"I woke you?"
It was Damien. Heaving an exasperated sigh, she lay down

again. She wasn't going to get much sleep if they were going
to be arriving and leaving in relays all night, she reflected
irritably.

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Staring at the ceiling, Damien let out the breath he'd been

holding slowly. It did nothing to calm him. He felt, he
realized, very much the same things as he felt when he was
facing battle—fear, anticipation, doubt, excitement.

The erection was new. He did not recall that he had ever

had an erection when he was about to fight. He was not
particularly pleased that he had one now. It seemed
premature when he had not even gotten permission to use it
yet. He considered, briefly, whether he should focus on trying
to get rid of it before she noticed when it abruptly occurred to
him that, if he did, he might not be able to coax it back at the
crucial moment. He did not think he would have a problem. It
had been erect almost constantly since he had watched
Kameron fuck her, but it seemed an unpredictable thing and
he did not care for things that worked when they were not
needed and did not work when they were.

Pushing that problem aside, he focused on trying to recall

the exact words he had worked out in his mind that he would
use. To his relief, he recalled them almost instantly. They
were simple, straightforward, and to the point. He would ask
her, he had decided, if she was horny. She would respond
with either a yes, or a no, at which point he would either
respond with 'May I fuck you?' or 'May I fuck you when you
are?'

If she responded with 'yes', then he would proceed with

the steps of arousal and penetration until he reached the
point of gratification. He had gone over them many times
during the day so that he would not make the same mistake

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that Kameron had and miss something crucial. He did not
want her to glare at him afterward as she had Kameron.

Despite his certainty that he was ready, sudden doubt

shook him. The directions for courting had stated that females
liked it when a male used pretty words to describe things. He
had composed a variation to his speech after he had recalled
that, but had decided to discard since it seemed unnecessarily
complicated.

It took a little more effort to jog his mind to recall them,

but he finally did and replayed them in his mind to compare
them to the speech he had decided on. 'I was wondering if
you might feel the need for sexual gratification since it has
been almost twenty four hours since you were given release?'
If she said yes, then he would respond 'I would be honored to
offer my services to relieve your need.'

He repeated it in his mind several times, but he could not

convince himself that he could say all of that smoothly. He
feared that he might trip over the unfamiliar words or, worse,
that they were too vague to get his point across. She had
used the words 'horny' and 'fuck' herself, which meant she
would not find them objectionable or confusing.

He turned over to face her only to discover that, at some

point while he was rehearsing, she had rolled onto her side
and presented him with her back. He thought she had gone to
sleep.

Wake her? Let her sleep?
She might be cross and disinclined to be agreeable if he

woke her. Kameron tended to be very nasty when awakened.
He was not, however.

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Deciding he had at least a fifty-fifty chance of a good

reaction, he settled a hand lightly on her shoulder. She sat up
so quickly it startled him.

"What?"
"I wondered if you were horny?"
"What?"
Damien frowned, reluctant to repeat the question but

realizing he couldn't proceed with the next response until she
had given him the answer he had expected. He had thought
she must be awake when she sat up, but decided the
confusion could not be from anything except being abruptly
awakened. "Are ... you ... horny?" he asked, saying the words
slowly to make it easier for her to understand in her groggy
state.

"NO!" she snarled.
"Can I fuck you?" he responded, disconcerted enough by

the anger in her voice that he forgot to add the second part.
"When you are horny?"

"I don't know, can you?" she demanded testily.
He stared at her blankly, trying to wrap his mind around

the fact that the conversation hadn't followed his mental
scenario at all. Abruptly, he realized what he had said wrong.
"May I fuck you ... when you are horny?"

"I don't think so!" she snapped, lying down again and

putting her back to him.

He stared at the back of her head in frustration and finally

decided that he had awakened her and that, like Kameron,
she did not like to be awakened. Mental note—Zoe does not
like to be awakened.

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He settled on his back again, glaring angrily at the ceiling.

A wise man, he thought, would have left it at that, but the
moment his anger began to abate a little it occurred to him
that he had not managed to get a promise from her to let him
fuck her when she was ready. If she was not horny, he could
not expect her to allow him to fuck her now, which he found
very disappointing considering how desperate he was to fuck
her, but he could not count on being available when the mood
did strike her. "Why do you not think so?" he asked finally.

She hunched a shoulder at him, which assured him that

she was still awake and still angry.

Her temper was not likely to improve, he realized, until she

had slept more and awakened on her own. "I will ask you
later."

She sat up again and looked down at him indignantly. "You

think I'm going to change my mind if you ask me later?"

He stared at her angry face, disconcerted. "You will not?"
She narrowed her eyes at him instead of answering, and

then flounced onto her side once more, but he decided that
was her way of answering.

"You have no interest in fucking me?" he surmised.
"No," she said tightly.
"Is it the nose?"
Zoe sat up and stared at him again, although she knew it

was useless. She couldn't tell a thing about his expression.
"Your nose? What's wrong with your nose?"

If she hadn't noticed, he didn't want to point it out. "The

hair?"

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She gave him a look he couldn't quite decipher. "You don't

have a fucking clue, do you?"

He frowned. He didn't like to admit he didn't. On the other

hand, he wanted to know. "No," he responded cautiously.

Zoe stared down at his shadowy face. She'd been angry

right up to the point where he'd begun to try to guess what it
was she didn't find appealing about him. The moment he had,
she realized that he not only had no idea how insulting his
question was, but he was as full of insecurities as she was—
not that he had any reason to be. It stunned her that a man
that looked like he did could have any doubts of his appeal at
all.

She sighed. It wasn't as if she had anything against

meaningless sex. She'd had bad meaningless sex plenty of
times because she was forever the optimist, thinking each
time it would be better than she expected and it never was.
Right up until she'd had sex with Kameron, in fact, the best
she'd ever had was pretty good. Since then, she'd relegated
the 'pretty good' to 'not bad', because nothing she'd
experienced before had even come close.

She didn't doubt for a moment that Damien was fully

capable of pleasing her as much as Kameron had. She didn't
even mind the fact that she wasn't particularly needy at the
moment.

What she minded was the way that he'd asked. She also

didn't like the fact that he had asked. It seemed like more of
a transaction than something that should be wild and hot or
at least spontaneous and warm, damn it! He should have just
tried and taken his lumps if she took exception! As an

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attempt at seduction, it sucked worse than anything in her
experience. He shouldn't be rewarded for it.

He didn't know that, though, poor baby.
She shook her head at him. "I don't suppose it occurred to

you that you could take care of the problem yourself?"

He tilted his head just enough to assure her that he didn't

by his confusion.

"Never mind," she huffed irritably, peeling off her

borrowed jump suit resolutely and tossing it aside. "But, for
the record, never ask a woman if she wants to fuck. Even if
she wants to, it sounds nicer to say 'make love'. Then she can
at least pretend it isn't just meaningless sex. And women like
to pretend it isn't even when they know it is."

He sat up and looked down at her when she lay down. He

wasn't certain that he had understood even half of what she'd
said, mostly because his mind had gone chaotic the moment
she had stripped off her clothes, but he decided he would try
to recall it later and evaluate what she'd said. Clearly, despite
the fact that she had said no, she had now changed her mind.

He would have to figure that out later, too.
All of the sensations he had felt when he had first lain

down beside her swarmed over him again the moment he
realized she had decided to let him, except now he felt hot
and dizzy besides ... and panicked when he realized his mind
had gone completely blank and he could not recall the steps
to bring her to full arousal.

He knew what he wanted to do as he allowed his gaze to

wander the length of her body and saw how beautifully she
was made. He wanted to touch her everywhere—at once. The

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objective was to please her, though, and he did not know it
that would.

It would be far better to stick to the points of arousal and

make certain than to risk doing it wrong, he decided.

Relief flooded him when he finally remembered he must

start with a kiss to her lips. Careful not to crush her fragile
body with his far heavier one, he rolled over until he was
resting lightly along her length, supporting the bulk of his
weight with his arms and legs. After staring down at her face
for several moments, trying to catch his breath and fight off
the dizziness that assailed him, he dipped his head and
brushed his lips across hers.

Like the delicate petals of a flower opening to the sun, her

lips parted in invitation at his light touch. Relief flickered
through him that she hadn't changed her mind again, but it
was brief, swept aside by the tide of hunger that rolled over
him like an avalanche the moment he locked his mouth to
hers and swept his tongue inside. Moist heat greeted him,
coiled around his tongue, and his processor went into melt
down, blanking his mind to everything except the focus of
pleasure. The taste of her fed his hunger instead of appeasing
it even a little. The feel of her small tongue, the silky, slick
walls of the tiny cavern of her mouth created a sort of frantic
madness within him. He tested and explored each over and
over with his tongue, sucking up the taste and scent of her
with a thirst that grew worse the longer he strained to fulfill
the need.

It wasn't until darkness began to invade the red haze of

fire in his mind that he instinctively broke the kiss to drag air

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into his lungs. He sucked in several ragged breaths to chase
the blackness back and dove at her mouth again to taste
more of her.

She began to shift restlessly beneath him after a time. The

brush of her skin against him distracted him, shifting the
focus of his attention to the rest of her body and a ray of
sanity returned.

The steps, he reminded himself, searching his

malfunctioning memory for them a little frantically. More
kisses, he finally remembered. He must fully stimulate all of
her erogenous zones.

He broke for air, sucked in a couple of breaths and shifted

down to her throat. "Check," he muttered, mentally ticking off
the list to make certain he didn't miss anything.

She was panting as much as he was by the time he had

thoroughly explored her throat and neck and ears to make
certain he didn't miss any spot that was particularly sensitive,
nipping and suckling at those points that seemed to get the
most reaction several times before he decided to move on.

"Check," he muttered, scooting further down to tease her

breasts. It took an effort to refrain from going straight for the
hard, tiny buds he wanted in his mouth, but he managed to
resist the temptation. Focusing, he massaged first one breast
and then the other with his hand to stimulate the blood flow
to her breasts and bring them to the fullest reception of
sensation. She was shifting noticeably, thrusting her breasts
at him for attention before he allowed himself to suck one
nipple into his mouth.

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She gasped, went rigid for a moment and then plowed her

fingers into his hair, tugging at it. He ignored it, too
preoccupied with the feel of her nipple against his tongue to
feel more than a twinge of distraction. By the time he
remembered that she had another, she'd begun to cling to
him, trying to hold him to her. He ignored that, too, moving
to the twin peak and suckling and tugging at it until he began
to worry that either his heart or his balls, or both, were going
to rupture.

"Double check," he gasped, nuzzling his face against her

breasts and trying to resist the urge to go back to the first
nipple while he jogged his mind to try to remember what was
next on the agenda. The finger test, he thought hopefully,
then realized he had not stroked her belly or legs. He was not
going to make it through that.

"What are you mumbling?" Zoe asked breathlessly.
His head popped up from her breast and he stared at her

with a frozen look on his face. "Mumbling?" he echoed.

"Check?"
He blinked at her. "I said that? Aloud?"
"Yes."
He studied her uncomfortably. "I did not want to forget

anything important. I have not done this before—real world.
Simulated, yes."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twelve

Despite the fact that she was so aroused she felt like

clawing something, Zoe had a very hard time refraining from
chuckling. When she'd finally mastered the urge, she pushed
at his shoulder, deciding it was time to take matters into her
own hands. "Roll over."

He tensed, but after a momentary hesitation, he rolled off

of her and onto his side. She sat up and shoved at his
shoulder again, straddling his waist when he rolled onto his
back. "My turn," she murmured, leaning down to graze his
lean cheek with her own on the way to his ear.

It occurred to her, forcefully, that she had no way of

knowing, without experimentation, just how sensitive he was
to her touch. He'd seemed thoroughly aroused by what he
was doing to her, though, she reminded herself, deciding she
could assume that he was as sensitive as she was.

He shuddered when the warmth of her breath touched his

ear. Smiling faintly in satisfaction, she teased it with the tip of
her tongue briefly and began to work her way slowly down his
neck to his chest, stroking him, teasing his skin with her lips
and tongue.

His reaction was everything she'd hoped. He tensed until

every muscle in his body trembled with his effort to remain
still, gasping for breath, moving restlessly when he couldn't
remain still anymore, as if she was torturing him instead of
giving him pleasure. His cock leapt as she bumped it with her
buttocks.

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Deciding both of them had had enough foreplay for two or

three rounds of sex, she worked her way down his chest and
belly without lingering long over the play. Reaching his
garment, she settled her buttocks on his thighs, searched
briefly for someway to untie the thing and finally merely
yanked it down. His cock sprang to full attention. She was
sorry it was too dark to really examine it with her eyes but
she doubted he would mind if she used her hands and mouth
to explore it instead.

She touched the tip of her tongue the base and licked it all

the way up the underside to the tip. He sat bolt upright,
sucking in a sharp breath. She placed a palm in the center of
his chest and shoved at him as she opened her mouth over
the head and sucked and he obliging fell back against the
bed. She had intended to please him. Fire flowed through her
veins, though, as she sucked the tip of his cock and found his
taste pleased her—more than pleased her, actually.

A hunger to bring him off with her mouth filled her mind

and she began to move her mouth and hands over him with
more and more enthusiasm. He ground his teeth together so
loudly she could hear them grinding, clutched at the bedding
with hands curled into fists. He caught at her head as she
allowed his cock to slide deeply into her mouth and then out
again, pushing at her slightly one moment and holding her
the next, as if he couldn't make up his mind whether to stop
her or not.

"Zoe," he finally burst out on a ragged breath. "I can not

hold it."

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She didn't want him to. She didn't know why it was

suddenly so important to give him pleasure, but she felt a
deep need to.

He grabbed her shoulders. Dragging her upwards, he

speared his hands in her hair and kissed her with near frantic
need. She kissed him back as desperately, but broke the kiss
after only a moment and shifted back along his belly until his
cock was nestled along her cleft. Lifting up on shaky thighs,
she grasped his cock and aligned it with her sex, bearing
down on him to engulf him with her body. He caught her hips,
his fingers digging into her almost painfully.

She wasn't certain if he was trying to slow her down or

help her mount his shaft, but she was too needy to stop.
Groaning in frustration when she couldn't take all of him at
once, she lifted slightly and bore down again and again,
pressing downward a little harder each time until he was
embedded fully inside of her. She paused, her eyes closed to
savor the feel of him deeply inside of her for a moment.

He stroked her thighs with shaking hands. "It feels ... good

inside of you," he whispered raggedly.

A shudder went through her at his words. She felt herself

quicken, the first tremors of a climax rippling along the walls
of her sex. Groaning, she lifted to allow his cock to slide along
her channel and settled again to take him deeply. She hit a
peak. Shuddering, she ground her hips against him as the
quakes ripped through her, gasping hoarsely.

He pulled her to his chest and rolled until she was beneath

him. Briefly, they lost their connection. With frantic haste, he
found her sex and thrust into her again. The quakes of her

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climax impeded his progress briefly, but he pressed into her
persistently until he'd regained the ground he'd lost and then
began to pump into her with feverish need. She spread her
thighs wide, lifting her hips to receive him deeply as she felt
the tension building to come again. Her second climax, harder
than the first, snatched her breath from her lungs. She
inhaled sharply on a keening cry as another quake rocked
her.

He shuddered, ground his teeth together and let out a

choked cry as his own climax hit him, jerking all over with the
force of it. She reached down to grasp his buttocks, holding
him tightly to her as he shook with the shocks of his
convulsions.

His head drooped as the tension fell away from him. His

arms, bracketing her shoulders, trembled. A sublime warmth
flowed over her in the aftermath. She skimmed her hands
upward from his buttocks along his broad back, caressing him
with slow, measured strokes. A shiver skated through him.

After a few moments, he slipped a hand beneath her hips.

Holding her tightly to him to maintain their connection, he
rolled onto his side. Heaving a deep sigh of repletion and
satisfaction, she snuggled against his chest as he dragged her
closer.

"Was it like the simulation?" she whispered after a

moment.

She heard him swallow. "No," he responded in a rough

voice.

She kissed the space between his pecs, content to leave it

at that.

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She woke a while later to the light touch of Damien's hand

along her arm. Deciding to feign sleep since she was in no
mood for sex again so soon, she remained limp against him,
trying to ignore his touch and go back to sleep in actuality.
She realized after a few moments that there was nothing
purposeful about his touch, that he wasn't trying to arouse
her. He kept his touch feather light, as if to try to keep from
waking her while he explored the skin along her arm with his
palm and then stroked her back. Finally, releasing a deep
sigh, he rolled away from her and got up.

It pricked her that he'd left until she realized it must be

shift change.

Which meant someone else would probably take his place.
She rolled out of the bunk at that thought, staggered

around for a moment in search of the suit she'd tossed away
and finally found it, then dashed into the facilities.

Drugged with sleep she might be, but she had enough

presence mind to consider that she didn't want to be lying
naked in the bunk, still reeking of wild sex, when the next
cyborg claimed a side of the bed for sleep.

She was only slightly more alert when she'd bathed and

dressed. She paused in the doorway of the facilities when she
discovered she'd guessed right.

Someone was sleeping in her bed.

* * * *

Light had scarcely begun to filter through the forest as Zoe

made her way down the gang plank, still feeling more woozy
that alert due to the sleep rotation habits of the cyborgs. She

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thought, wryly, that it might have been more restful just to
sleep on the hard floor.

Not that she regretted having wild sex with Damien. That

had been pretty damned memorable, and supremely
satisfying, she thought, smiling faintly at the memory as she
slanted a glance at him where he stood in the clearing.

Undoubtedly, he'd heard her descent. He glanced toward

her at that moment and met her gaze. He reddened faintly, to
her surprise, and smiled almost bashfully before he returned
his attention to what he'd been doing.

Arming himself, she discovered, watching as he leaned

down to tie the thongs of a phaser pistol holster around one
thigh. One of the swords she'd examined the day before
rested in its scabbard across his back, the pommel protruding
just above his left shoulder as he straightened once more.

His shyness was both amusing and strangely endearing. It

warmed her, made her feel curiously pleased with herself. At
the same time, she felt an odd little hitch in her chest that
only became more pronounced as she saw he was preparing
for battle.

Kameron, she discovered, looked stony faced, but it was

hard to say whether it was because he hadn't had more than
four hours sleep or he'd noticed the smiles she and Damien
had exchanged and wasn't pleased about it.

Or because he knew.
She was fairly certain she hadn't fooled him by racing into

the facilities to bathe and dress—not that that had been her
intention ... per se. Mostly, she'd just wanted to keep her
personal business to herself.

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She hadn't wanted to flaunt the fact that she'd had sex

with Damien for another very good reason. She didn't know
whether Kameron would take exception or not—not that he
had any right to, but 'rights' wouldn't necessarily stop him
from being angry—and she didn't want to chance causing
trouble between them when they were close. She wasn't
exactly sure of why Damien and Kameron had come to blows
before, but they'd certainly convinced her that they felt no
compunction about pounding the hell out of each other if they
did disagree on something.

It was a strange 'quirk' to their personalities to say the

least, understandable she supposed, given their history, but
still unnerving. She didn't particularly like that aspect of their
natures, but she could live with it as long as it wasn't her
fault.

Kyle, who'd been the last in the sleep rotation, was also

the last off the ship. He looked surprisingly alert and vigorous
considering the few hours sleep he'd had. He slanted a
speculative glance at her as he strode past her to collect his
own weapons and secure them.

The gang plank was retracted as soon as Kyle had stepped

off of it. Zoe followed its slightly jerky progress upward to
discover Gavin was standing in the hatch, studying her. She
hadn't had the chance to speak to him since she'd discovered
he was going to risk his life to move the craft, she realized
with a jolt of dismay. She supposed, more accurately and less
comfortable to her conscience, she hadn't made the
opportunity.

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She wanted to say something to let him know it mattered

to her whether he made it or not, at least in the same sense
that she would feel for any other living being. The thought
had no more formed in her mind, though, when she realized it
was more than that. She felt a connection with him. However
brief, however tenuous, their bond, there was no denying
there was one. He wasn't a stranger. He was someone she
wanted to know.

The only phrases that came to mind, though, were the pat

little 'polite-isms' that sometimes meant something and often
nothing at all. "Take care," she said before she lost her
chance to say anything at all. "We'll see you on the plateau."

His blond brows lifted in surprise. He tilted his head

slightly, as if he was analyzing the comments, and finally
smiled back at her. "I will see you on the plateau."

She felt vaguely comforted by that, as if it was an

assurance.

She turned away when he had closed the hatch and

discovered that the others were ready to go. All three had
gathered some fairly formidable makeshift packs of supplies
they'd put together. It didn't make her feel better to see that
the cyborgs weren't taking any chances of being caught
without supplies. She supposed, to them, it just seemed
reasonable not to take the risk when they were stranded on
an alien world. To her it screamed lack of faith and
immediately undermined the comfort Gavin's comment had
given her.

She frowned thoughtfully as she responded to Kameron's

gesture to follow him, falling into step behind him. She lived

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in an enlightened age. She'd never considered herself the
least bit superstitious, and yet she realized she must be if she
viewed being prepared as something that might bring bad
luck down on Gavin.

That's all it was, really. The 'fates' were no more likely to

smile upon Gavin's endeavor by a 'show of faith' in leaving
everything onboard than to frown upon him that they hadn't.

And despite the lack of a display of emotionalism, she

knew Kameron, Damien, and Kyle probably cared far more
deeply about Gavin than she did. The anger she felt that they
didn't seem to was unreasonable.

Completely unreasonable, she realized, given that she

wasn't actually accustomed to demonstrations of affection
herself. She supposed there had been a time in her life when
she was. She dimly recalled at least a few instances from her
childhood when she'd been the recipient of smiles and kisses
and hugs from her mother—of worry and concern, and knew
that indicated a loving relationship, at least then.

It wasn't something that had carried over into adulthood.

The love her mother had felt for her father had eventually
evolved into bitterness if not outright hate and it had eaten at
their relationship until she'd withdrawn completely from her
mother. She told herself it was because her job prevented her
from having a 'real' life, but the truth was her job had
become her life. She had embraced it and let it, made it,
happen, to fill the void because she'd discovered it didn't
seem to matter to her mother whether she saw her or not.
She was as guilty of forming a wedge between them as her
mother was, but she had tried for a long a time to reach out

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before she'd given up. She'd felt it was her mother's turn to
try to breach the gap—but she never had.

She hadn't even heard from her mother in well over a

year.

She supposed that was the real reason she'd never gotten

around to meeting Bronte. As long as she didn't, she could
tell herself they might form a bond, and she preferred to hold
on to the possibility they might than to take the chance of
trying and discovering there was nothing there.

She'd never thought of herself as a coward. Physically, she

wasn't. Emotionally, she supposed she was.

She emerged from her reverie when the party halted

nearly an hour later. The sound of the Omega's engines came
to her from the distance that now separated them. Seeing the
direction of the other's gazes, she lifted her head to watch,
too, feeling her belly tighten with anxiety. A few minutes
later, she saw the glint of sunlight on metal as the Omega
rose above the trees. Even to her, the engine sounded
strained. The ship seemed to move at a snail's pace, barely
skimming the tops of the trees.

The knot in her stomach tightened as she watched it's

progress and wondered if Gavin was flying so low because he
couldn't gain altitude, or as a precaution to try to keep from
becoming a target of the soldiers if any happened to be close
enough to fire at him, or because he thought it might
minimize the damage to the ship if the engine cut out
altogether. For whatever reason, he continued to skim the
tops of the trees until he disappeared from sight. Her heart in
her throat, she listened intently for a while for an explosion.

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Feeling vaguely relieved when she didn't hear one, she
glanced around at the others, trying to discern their thoughts
on the matter as they shouldered their packs and set off
again.

She supposed she should've felt insulted that she hadn't

been given anything to carry. She was to a degree since she
saw it as a clear indication that they didn't see her as 'one of
them', but she quickly realized it was just as well. She had a
hard enough time keeping the pace they set unburdened. If
she'd been carrying anything she thought she might have
been forced to beg them to stop before they'd made much
progress at all.

It wasn't as if the terrain was that difficult, though she

could tell it was gradually rising. Kameron, still in the lead,
cleared the way. The air was thin, however, and at the same
time thick with humidity that made her lungs labor with the
effort to sift enough oxygen to keep from passing out. By her
guess, they had been walking for around two hours when
Damien pushed ahead of her and spoke in a low voice to
Kameron.

"I need to adjust my pack. It seems loose."
Kameron sent him a frowning look and then glanced back

at her. Nodding, he called a short halt. Zoe dropped to the
ground gratefully, drawing her knees up and resting her
forehead on them while she struggled to catch her breath.
The dizziness, thankfully, passed after a minute and her heart
and lungs ceased to labor. She lifted her head when someone
nudged her shoulder and discovered that Damien was holding

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out a container of water. Smiling her gratitude, she took it
and quenched her thirst.

"Not too much. It will make you ill," Damien cautioned.
Nodding, Zoe reluctantly handed the water back to him,

watching as he took a long swallow himself. Her belly
quivered as she watched his throat work and memories of the
night before surfaced. She looked away, but her gaze clashed
with Kameron's and she discovered looking at him was no
more calming.

Lifting her head, she focused on scanning the woods

around them instead, thinking how strange it felt to find
herself in the company of two men she'd been intimate with
at the same time. The knowledge, and the hunger in their
eyes if it came to that, was disconcerting to say the least. She
couldn't remember ever feeling uncomfortable around anyone
she'd had sex with before.

Actually, she realized she wasn't particularly

uncomfortable, just acutely aware.

Maybe the difference was that she'd so thoroughly enjoyed

the encounters when, previously, she hadn't had any trouble
putting it from her mind because it had been totally
unmemorable?

She thought that was a good bit of it.
It wasn't all of it.
She hoped the fact that she'd had sex with two of them

hadn't given rise to expectations in Kyle and Gavin, but she
wouldn't lay money on it.

The quiver in her belly instantly gave the lie to that. The

realization both disconcerted her and irritated her. She wasn't

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a dick hound. She thought she had a healthy sexual appetite
but it certainly wasn't the pivotal point in her life. She wasn't
constantly on the hunt for someone to scratch her itch. If she
happened to meet a man that appealed, and the opportunity
presented itself, she went with it. Otherwise, it didn't cross
her mind.

Because she so rarely met men that had a strong sexual

appeal to her, she realized abruptly. It had thrown her
completely off kilter to find herself in the midst of a herd of
them, but there was no denying she felt more than a casual
interest in all four of them.

And was that surprising, she asked herself, given the sheer

male beauty of the four of them? If they were flawed, it sure
as hell wasn't physically. Not one of them was even plain,
ordinary, or just ok. And not only were they handsome, but
they were built like gods.

It wasn't fair and even while it kept her as jittery as a drug

addict desperate for a fix, making it impossible to get her
mind off of the fact that she was female and they were male,
at the same time as it emphasized her sense of femininity,
being around such flawless perfection also chipped away at
her self-confidence. She wasn't ugly, but she was a hell of a
long way from beautiful or perfect.

The men rose to begin their trek again after a few minutes.

Still distracted by her thoughts, Zoe rose automatically to
follow.

What if she hadn't misunderstood the plot she'd

overheard, she wondered? How did she feel about it? When
she'd first overheard them she'd been appalled and scared

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because she'd felt threatened. Was she calmer now about it
because she no longer felt threatened? Or because the idea
had taken root and for some bizarre reason she'd discovered
it wasn't nearly as appalling as she'd first thought?

Maybe she was losing her mind? She ought to still be

appalled and scared silly. Just because they hadn't been
overtly threatening didn't mean they weren't dangerous. She
hadn't been around them long, but she'd sure as hell been
around them long enough to know just how dangerous they
could be and how unpredictable. The same characteristics
that appealed so strongly to her nurturing instincts as a
woman were those most dangerous and unpredictable about
them. Emotionally, they were like overgrown children,
unformed, not completely in control because they hadn't had
the chance to develop normally. And anything as big and
strong and predisposed to violence as they were that had
problems dealing with emotions they'd never dealt with
before could be seriously hazardous to one's health—
especially when one happened to be a woman half the size of
one of them and probably not even a fraction as strong. She
shouldn't be flattered to discover she was the object of their
desires.

She should be scared to death.
Had she just wanted to interpret what she'd overheard the

way she had, she wondered? Had it been a trick of the
acoustics and wishful thinking, because she did find them so
attractive?

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She didn't think it had crossed her mind, not even the

subconscious part. Why would she think in terms of
contracting when she'd never considered doing so in her life?

Unless what they'd told her about Bronte had planted a

seed deeply in her mind?

Unfortunately, there was no denying they still looked upon

her as an enemy, and she didn't see how they could be
considering her as a life-partner when they didn't trust her at
all.

Maybe trust wasn't an issue for them considering they

didn't really have to worry about her? Obviously, just being
female was enough for them. It didn't matter to them
whether they were compatible in any other way.

She suspected if she'd been a total bitch, ugly, misshapen,

and stupid they would still have considered her a likely
candidate for partner—because she was a female and had the
right equipment, and maybe she was right, as dismaying as
that thought was, but did they think that about her? That was
the real question—because she was an idiot. She wanted to
think they were actually as attracted to her as she was to
them.

It seriously bruised her ego to think that might not be the

case.

But it was more than that, she realized. Beyond the sex

appeal, beyond the strong nurturing urge they aroused in her,
she liked them and she wanted them to like her back—not
just accept her as part of the package they had to put up with
to get the pussy she was carrying around, but like and
respect her as a person, to think of her as a companion.

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Clearly they didn't and that was why she'd been so hurt

and angry with Kameron. He'd just had to point out that she
was an enemy.

She wasn't certain when she'd stopped thinking in those

terms. She thought, though, that it was the very moment
Kameron had decided to walk off and leave her to 'her
people'. It was hard to think of yourself as a captive when
you had to beg someone to take you with them.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Thirteen

By the third stop to 'adjust something', despite her

preoccupation, Zoe tumbled to the fact that the frequent
stops were entirely for her benefit. She wasn't certain how
she felt about it. Relieved, partly, annoyed and flattered at
the same time that they were concerned about her.

Until it occurred to her that it wasn't necessarily personal

that they were so deeply concerned about her well-being. She
was something in the nature of a 'prize', she supposed, and
they didn't want to break her.

By the time they reached the cliff they would have to scale

to reach the plateau, she was calling herself a total idiot and
convinced she'd been thinking too hard with her pussy to see
straight. They were sexy. There was no question about that,
but she wasn't about to just fall in with their plotting against
her, even if she was right and they were plotting.

She'd come to get Bronte. Even if Bronte had fallen for

their routine, she had severe doubts that Bronte was even
close to content to live among the cyborgs. She just didn't
have options. Zoe meant to give her an option, if she could
just manage to get to her sister, and then she meant to head
home, with or without Bronte.

It occurred to her that contracting with the cyborgs might

give her an edge to fulfill her mission. She considered it,
briefly, but aside from the fact that it hadn't actually been
offered and she didn't know that it would be, it went against
the grain to do something like that under false pretenses. She

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knew, legally, she wouldn't be bound, whatever their laws,
because she wasn't a cyborg.

It left a bad taste in her mouth, regardless. She wasn't her

father's daughter in that sense. She wasn't going to agree to
a contract she had no intention of upholding, in fact every
intention of breaking at the first opportunity.

As little as she liked idea of joining the bastards that had

followed her, she realized in dismay, that that was exactly
what she should do. She hadn't been thinking straight since
she'd left Earth to go after Bronte. The chances of
successfully rescuing Bronte were astronomical. She would
have to snatch her from the heart of the colony of cyborgs,
who had been created almost solely as soldiers. What real
chance did she have of managing such a feat, even assuming
she could get there in the first place?

Emotion had brought her, not reason, not anything

approaching it.

She didn't want to let go of the only person in the universe

she felt the connection of a blood bond to—besides her
mother who couldn't have cared less about any kind of bond.
She felt, right or wrong, that her mother had never really
loved her at all, that she had only seen her daughter as a tool
to get the man she loved beyond reason and when it had
been borne in on her that he hadn't considered his daughter a
binding tie, she'd become worthless.

The ascent was almost worse than the descent had been.

The daylight was waning and deep shadows starting to crawl
along the ground, but it was still light enough to see more
than she wanted to. Kyle apparently won the toss as to who

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was going to have to lug her ass up the cliff. She assumed
that was the case. She'd seen them in a huddle, discussing
something and then Kyle had discarded his weapons and the
pack he'd been carrying and approached her cheerfully while
Damien and Kameron glared at his back and finally turned
away to scan the jungle.

She couldn't imagine why he'd be so damned cheerful at

the prospect, but it certainly appeared to be the case.

This time, once she'd climbed on Kyle's back, Kameron

removed a length of rope and fashioned a harness of sorts to
hold Zoe more securely. As grateful as she was for the fact
that it supported more of her weight and didn't put as much
strain on her arms and hands and legs, she still found it
embarrassing and scary.

Reluctantly, she admitted she would never have managed

the climb on her own. She didn't have a particular problem
with heights, but she still wasn't happy about hanging from
her fingers and toes over a nearly vertical drop. She also
doubted she had the upper body strength to pull herself up
such a climb. If it had been half as high, maybe, but that was
still doubtful considering how easily she was winded in the
atmosphere of the planet and the higher altitude wouldn't
have helped at all.

Gavin met them at the top. Extending his hand, he caught

one of Kyle's and helped them over the ledge. As if it had
been prearranged and he wasn't the least bit surprised to find
her tied to Kyle, he immediately set about removing the
makeshift harness, catching her waist when he'd dropped it
and pulling her from Kyle's back.

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Both men towered over her, looking down at her as if she

was a particularly tasty morsel for several moments before it
seemed to occur to them that she wasn't comfortable being
the focus of their attention.

She tried not to think about the possibility that it might be

running through their minds to wonder when they were going
to get the chance to fuck her. Egotistical or not, there was a
look in their eyes that certainly seemed to support that
theory.

As attractive as they were it was more than a little

unnerving. Damien and Kameron had both embraced 'real
sex' with flattering, and devastating, enthusiasm. She didn't
doubt that both Kyle and Gavin could perform as well and
with equal enthusiasm. The unnerving part was finding herself
in the middle of a tug of war between the four.

She thought it best not to encourage that line of thinking.
Which made her wonder where her head had been when

she'd given in to Damien. Kameron had been one thing. She
hadn't actually given in. She certainly hadn't encouraged
him—not until they'd been in the middle of it anyway. She
hadn't just given in to Damien, though. She'd taken the
initiative. If he decided to 'share' that bit of information, and
it sure as hell seemed to her like they shared pretty much
everything, she could be in real trouble.

Kameron's appearance at the brow of the plateau seemed

to bring them to a sense of purpose. Both men turned and
headed toward the ship. She weighed her options and finally
turned to follow them. By the time she arrived, they were
busy unloading the scraps they'd loaded onto the ship for the

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flight. She was tired. She really felt more like resting than
working, but she made her way up the gangplank and found
something small enough and light enough to carry.

Kameron eyed her with frowning speculation when she

appeared with it, but he didn't comment. Neither did the
others, although they watched her with varying degrees of
amusement and curiosity that she found annoying.

She was trying to fit in, she realized.
And it wasn't working.
She didn't know which bothered her the most, the fact that

she wanted to or that they wouldn't let her forget she didn't.

She was smarter than this, she thought angrily. Why had

she gotten herself into a situation she shouldn't have?

At the time, it had seemed she had sound reasons for it.

She'd been too focused on her objective to think things
through. In hindsight, she supposed Kameron hadn't been
capturing her so much as he was rescuing her from her
stupidity. As pissed off as she'd been about them blowing up
her ship—and still was—that didn't change the fact that she'd
encroached, however inadvertently, on their territory and
they'd responded accordingly.

If she'd done the same thing—a base—guarded by the

federation, the results would have been the same, except she
would probably have been blown up with her ship and, if she
had been rescued, she would absolutely have been a
prisoner, not just sort of or maybe.

The federation took a very dim view of invasion by

unauthorized personnel.

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She'd had the option of leaving. She should have taken it.

Now that they'd allowed her to tag along and she'd seen and
heard things she shouldn't have, that wasn't an option
anymore. Regardless of whether she was right about their
intentions or not, Kameron had made it clear she was now, to
all intents and purposes, the property of the cyborg nation.

So where did that leave her?
She wasn't going to be able to rescue Bronte. She'd finally

accepted that. She still wanted to. She still didn't want to go
back without at least trying, but, deep down, she knew it was
a lost cause.

She doubted she could escape from the handful of cyborgs

she had to deal with now, let alone a colony full of them—
thousands, certainly.

If she tried and failed, it was only going to make them that

much more distrustful of her.

If she tried and succeeded, she would find herself on the

side of some very bad people. She didn't think she'd
misjudged them. Their goal was to find the cyborg 'nest' and
wipe it out and they'd been willing to use her, and sacrifice
her life to do it. From what she could see, the cyborgs
seemed content to live in peace, despite what had been done
to them, and leave humans—pretty much—alone. She hadn't
gotten the sense, at all, that they were gathering their forces
to attack. They just wanted to be left alone and they were,
naturally enough, willing to kill to preserve their freedom.

Did she want to be marooned on this world with 'her own

kind'? Or take her chances with the cyborgs—assuming of
course, that she had any choice in the matter?

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As uncivilized planets went, she supposed this one wasn't

half bad, but she sure as hell didn't want to live here. Given
the choice of Earth or anywhere else, she was pretty sure
she'd chose Earth, but she didn't think she had that option.

Not unless the group of soldiers that had been stranded

here were picked up. In which case, they would no doubt
resume their mission and either succeed in wiping out the
cyborgs or die trying.

So, if she opted for the cyborg world, she might just find

herself at ground zero.

She was more inclined to think the cyborgs would wipe the

opposition out, and her with them if she chose that option.

She wanted to live, but she realized she wasn't really

debating survival. Survival, she was convinced, meant staying
with the cyborgs. That wasn't the only reason she was more
inclined to stay with them, though, and neither was finding
Bronte.

Despite her mixed feelings about the cyborgs, she trusted

them far more than she trusted the men across the valley.
Despite what she saw as a tendency toward violence, she
didn't believe for a moment that they would harm her unless
she was some sort of threat to them, which she obviously
wasn't. They, in point of fact, seemed far more inclined to
treat her as if she was a piece of fragile china they were
afraid would shatter if not handled with great care.

Escaping, she accepted, wasn't on her agenda. From there,

nothing was terribly clear.

She thought it was a very bad idea to play with fire. It was

a little late to come to that conclusion but better to perceive

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the pitfalls before they fell than to try to pick up the pieces
afterwards. Under the circumstances, she didn't see that it
would be that hard to keep her distance from them—
physically or emotionally. They weren't, any of them, exactly
open and friendly. They weren't unfriendly, precisely, but they
tended to be very solitary from what she could see, which
was understandable given the fact that they seemed to spend
so much of their lives on sentry duty, completely cut off from
everyone. Even if they did work in pairs, it seemed to be one
man on, one off, most, if not all of the time, which didn't
leave them much time even to interact with their partner. She
was the one who had been pursuing them, not the other way
around, under the guise of collecting information to
understand the situation, but just the same, that had been
her idea. They hadn't offered anything. She'd been prying it
lose.

As for the sex, obviously they were virile males and

anxious to have it, but she didn't think they'd force the issue.

She didn't think.
They might if she proved difficult, but she thought their

worry that they might 'break' her was probably her best
defense against them trying to force the issue if she proved
unwilling.

The sex had been great, and they were damned attractive,

but she thought she could contain herself—and should. The
urge to just go with the flow and enjoy it while she could was
probably the worst impulse that she'd ever had, and she'd,
admittedly, given in to some pretty stupid ones in her time.

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When they'd finished unloading the pieces, the men

scattered to search the wreckage of the other crafts for
anything useful, primarily for repairs, she supposed. Since
she had no clue what might be useful, she decided to see
what she could do to put the Omega in order. There wasn't a
lot that needed to be done, but it gave her the opportunity to
thoroughly explore it—which didn't take long. It wasn't much
bigger than the craft she'd leased for her trip, which was to
say, it was small.

There wasn't but one private cabin and that was the one

she'd spent the night in. Somehow, she didn't think she'd
make much headway in demanding it for her sole use. The
idea of planting her ass in the only sleeping quarters in
queenly splendor while they made do with the floor wasn't
something she was comfortable with anyway.

Sharing the bed wasn't something she was happy with

either, however. She didn't mind sharing the close quarters.
She could live with that. She'd shared the precinct dorm
plenty of times with other officers when she was on a
particularly time sensitive case where she had to snatch a few
hours sleep when she could. Everybody, regardless of gender,
made use of it when they were just too tired to make it to
their own quarters or couldn't afford to take the time.

They hadn't shared a bunk, however.
It was damned inconvenient that the craft had only one

bunk. She could completely see the reasoning. As sentries,
someone always had to be on duty. Both couldn't sleep at the
same time so there was no sense in taking up what little
space there was by cramming in two bunks.

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It would still have made her life easier.
As she stared at the single bunk, it occurred to her that

there were somewhere around a dozen ships scattered over
the plateau. She might as well join the scavengers and see
what she could find for her own use—hopefully a mattress,
possibly even a change of clothes that fit a little better. She
didn't think she could find anything that fit worse.

Gavin and Kyle, she saw, had either been sent to patrol

the perimeter of the plateau or had gone to inspect the cliff
for the most likely places the soldiers might try to come up,
she thought the latter since they kept pausing and staring
hard at the sides of the cliff. Damien and Kameron had begun
to form several piles of scavenged goods. The largest seemed
to be parts, but they'd also collected some containers of
water and rations.

Ignoring them, she scanned the plateau in the deepening

evening shadows and headed toward the nearest hulk. It
looked to be the mid-section of a ship, but she figured it was
worth checking. She had no idea, after all, how big the ships
had been to start with or what model it was.

She discovered when she looked inside that it wasn't much

more than a shell, and burned besides. Moving on quickly
since the gloom was gathering, she checked two more before
she found what she was looking for. Debris covered it, so she
wasn't certain it was even whole, but she began alternately
shoving at the pieces of debris and tugging at the mattress.

She screamed like a banshee when she reached down to

pick up a piece of debris and toss it away and came up with a
man's forearm and hand. Throwing it down, she whirled and

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ran, smacking into a wall of flesh that didn't move, and
rebounding. He caught her as she ricocheted off his chest.
She stared up at Kameron blankly for a moment before
recognition penetrated her shock.

He wasn't looking at her. He was scanning the wreck

behind her for the threat he expected to find. Despite the
shock and the fact that her heart was still racing, Zoe felt the
beginnings of embarrassment. If she'd been on duty and done
such a thing she would never have heard the last of it.

She wasn't on duty, however. She hadn't been expecting

to find a body—or body part. She supposed she should have
considered the possibility, but she'd seen the soldiers. She'd
thought they had landed the ships and disembarked before
the Omega attacked. It hadn't occurred to her that anyone
might still have been on board any of the ships.

She supposed that was stupid, or maybe just willful

blindness, and it only made her feel more mortified.

Seeing no obvious threat, Kameron transferred his

attention to her. "What happened here?"

It was at that point that Zoe discovered she'd drawn all of

them. Damien, Gavin, and Kyle were ranged behind Kameron,
also peering intently at the wreckage. The tension in all of
them made it clear that they'd expected a real threat.

She looked away, trying to think of something she could

say to save face, but she realized fairly quickly that there
nothing she could think up that would make her not sound
like a hysterical female. A shudder raked its way along her
spine. "I found a ... I picked up ... I wasn't expecting to find a
body."

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She glanced up at them sheepishly, more than half

expecting to see anger and/or derision in their expressions for
raising the alarm as she had when it was nothing more than
that she'd been startled. To her surprise, she didn't see
anything like that in any of their faces. They looked more
perplexed than anything else.

Kameron glanced at the other men over his shoulder,

nudging his chin in a dismissive gesture. "She is not hurt."

The men glanced from Kameron to her and finally turned

and left. Kameron lifted a hand and touched it lightly to her
pale cheek. "You have no blood here."

"I was just surprised, that's all," Zoe insisted, realizing

that she did feel faint now that the adrenaline rush had
abandoned her. She forced a smile. "Thank you for checking
on me, though."

He nodded, studying her face keenly. "You should rest."
"I'll just finish what I was doing and do that."
His lips tightened, but he didn't force the issue. His hands

dropped to his sides. He looked undecided as to whether to
stay or to go. A faint smile curled his lips after a moment. "At
least I need not be concerned that I would not hear if you
were in trouble. I heard from the other side of the plateau."

She supposed she should've been insulted, but the

comment surprised a chuckle out of her, or rather half
chuckle half sob. It was the concern she saw in his face, the
sympathy. She would've been alright if he'd just dismissed it,
better if he'd been angry, because that would've spawned her
own anger. The sympathy crumbled her determination to be

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stoic. She sniffed, compressing her lips for fear she'd lose her
tenuous grip on her emotions.

He looked vaguely alarmed when he saw the tears

swimming in her eyes, but he stood his ground. She had to
give him points for that. "What have you found? I will help
you with it."

That comment instantly dried up her tears and the urge to

break down. She cleared her throat. "I think I can manage."
In point of fact, she no longer wanted the damned mattress.
She was certain she couldn't sleep on it anyway without her
skin crawling.

He brushed past her and looked around, his gaze

immediately going to the mattress she'd been clearing off. He
glanced up at her.

She smiled weakly. "I thought it would come in handy

since there's so many of us now."

His face hardened, but he bent down and dragged the

mattress out from under the debris and took it outside to
examine it. It was filthy and slightly charred in a couple of
places but in surprisingly good shape all things considered.

She didn't actually want to consider 'all' things.
The dead man wouldn't have been lying on it when he was

killed, she assured herself, otherwise it would have been as
shredded as....

Kameron beat it with the flat of his hand until dust stopped

flying from it and then hoisted it up and stalked toward the
Omega with it. She trudged after him, struggling with the
sense of guilt that swamped her and trying to convince
herself she had no reason at all to feel guilty.

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She knew she didn't.
She still felt as if she'd done something wrong.
She didn't glance around to see if the others noticed she'd

found herself a bed. She followed Kameron up the gang plank
and into the rearward cabin. He looked around when he'd
reached it and finally dropped the mattress near one wall.
Without a word, he turned, pushed past her, and left.

Zoe stared at his retreating back until he disappeared and

finally dropped down to sit on the mattress.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Fourteen

Damien watched Kameron carrying the mattress to the

ship with a mixture of puzzlement and uneasiness. He wasn't
certain whether it was the taut expression on Kameron's face
or the discomfort on Zoe's, which she was studiously trying to
hide, or the telling presence of the mattress being borne
toward the Omega, but the confusion waned, the uneasiness
grew, and guilt joined it.

Frowning, he deposited the armload of rations he'd

recovered, straightened and stared at the pair as they
ascended the gangplank, and finally wandered off to pick
through the wreckage for anything else of use.

His thoughts were on Zoe, however, or more specifically

the fucking the night before. In truth, he had not thought of
much else since. The only thing that had changed since then
was his perspective on the interlude.

He supposed he had not actually thought about it at first.

Directly after he had come and for many hours afterward he
had been mostly focused on how he felt, which was not quite
like anything he had ever felt before. He had felt almost
unnervingly weak directly afterward, but that had given way
fairly quickly to a sense of well-being that transcended good,
surpassed ease. He had felt as energized as if he had slept
long and deeply when he had barely slept at all, as excited as
if he had something exceptional to look forward to, as pleased
with himself as if he had accomplished something beyond
anything he had ever been able to do before.

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He had finally identified the feeling as euphoria because it

matched the definition, not because he recalled ever having
felt it before, but in time it had mellowed and oddly enough
when it did he began to feel a sense of doubt. He was not
certain, at first, why the doubts had crowded into his mind. In
the beginning, he could not think of anything that might have
produced the sense of doubt. She had come. He knew she
had because he could distinctly recall the quivers of the
muscles along her sex in convulsions of ecstasy, the
breathless cries of pleasure. He was not very clear in his mind
about much else that she had done, because mostly he
recalled what she had done to him and how he had felt, but
he was certain he remembered that.

When she had emerged from the ship later, he had been

convinced that his anxiety that he had done something
wrong, or missed something important, must be groundless.
She had smiled at him when he had glanced at her to make
certain he had pleased her and she was not still angry
because he had woken her and persisted until she had finally
given in. She would not look at him afterward, though, and he
had begun to wonder if she had not smiled at all as he had
thought, but perhaps grimaced and he had misinterpreted it
as a smile.

Then he had tried harder to remember the details that he

had not tried to recall before, and that was when he had
realized that neither his doubts nor his anxiety were
misplaced.

Despite the end result that he had been so pleased about,

nothing, he recalled abruptly, had gone as planned and

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certainly not as it should have. The request he had so
carefully rehearsed had not gone as he had expected because
she had not responded as he had anticipated. He had
dismissed it because, in the end, she had agreed, but now he
was not even certain why she had agreed when she had not
only said no, but had refused to discuss the future possibility
of allowing him to fuck her.

Beyond that, he had been so determined to acquit himself

well, so focused on trying to follow the steps—something he
had had to do to recall them at all because from the moment
he had started to kiss her his mind had gone blank—that he
had discovered he had been reciting them out loud instead of
in his head. He was not certain he would have discovered that
if she had not pointed it out, which was the next thing he had
done wrong, or the thing that had pointed out that he was
doing everything wrong.

If he had aroused her half as much as he had aroused

himself, he was certain she would not have noticed what he
was muttering. Moreover, once he had recalled that, he was
certain that the fact that she had decided to take the initiative
was a clear indication that she was not as thoroughly aroused
as he had imagined or as she should have been, otherwise,
she would have been in no more state to think than he was.

It was along about that time that it abruptly occurred to

him that she had actually, technically, pleased herself. She
had certainly come, but not because of anything that he was
doing or had done.

That realization had appalled him. Try as he might to

convince himself that the end result had been the same, he

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found that he could not actually believe it. The truth was, he
had pleased himself and left her to do the same. More
accurately, which was worse to his mind, she had pleased him
and herself, which was the same as saying that he had
actually failed since that was certainly not what he had set
out to do.

He was not certain what bothered him worse, the fact that

he had performed so badly, or the fact that he had done
worse than Kameron when he had been so smugly pleased
that Kameron had fucked up.

* * * *

Kameron wasn't certain what was going through his mind

as he stalked from the ship and stood indecisively for several
moments at the foot of the gangplank. All he did know was
that he was spoiling for a fight and had been since the
soldiers had attacked Zoe the day before.

He supposed he had been since before that.
It should have appeased him that he had killed the

bastards but it had not, because, he supposed, he blamed
himself for it as much as he blamed them. It did no good to
remind himself that he had believed that he had left her
where she would be safe. She had not been safe. She had
been attacked and forced to defend herself.

What might have happened if he had not heard her cry out

and raced to help her did not bear thinking on—but he had
done just that, over and over, imagining something worse
each time.

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Damien's accusations had only added salt to the wound,

emphasized his own certainty that he had made a grievous
mistake that could have cost Zoe her life.

It made it worse that, in the back of his mind, he knew

that he had actually considered that they might find her and
take her back, removing temptation beyond his reach so that
he would not do something he was bound to regret later.
Because, despite Damien's optimism that the council would
allow them to claim her, he was not convinced, not by a long
shot. In point of fact, he expected disaster to follow. He
expected that their claim would be disputed and very likely
they would end in the brig. Then, because the council would
not consider sending her back once she knew the location of
the colony and their strength, she would become a citizen and
settle with some of the others while he and Damien
languished in jail for bringing her to the colony to start with.

And he preferred not to see her at all to the thought that

he must see her and know that she belonged to someone
else.

He could have cheerfully strangled Damien for putting the

thought in his mind at all. It was not that he had not noticed
that she was beautiful or that he had not desired her. He had,
but he had also been fully conscious of the fact that she was
human and had no business among them. He had not known
what to do with her once he had snatched her from her ship
to keep her from being killed, but the fact that her people had
followed would have solved that dilemma. He could have left
her for them to find and that would have been the end of it.
He had wanted to. He thought that he would have ignored her

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demand to be taken to her sister if Damien had not already
infected him with the seed of his insanity.

He should not have fucked her, he realized. The

temptation had been more than he could resist, though,
particularly once he had discovered that she had wanted it
just as he did. If he had not done so, however, he thought he
might have continued to ignore Damien's determination to try
to claim her for their own. Once he had, he had not been able
to think of anything beyond fucking her again and it had
taken no great leap to concede the merits of Damien's
suggestion, which meant that she would be his to fuck
whenever the need arose and she was willing.

She had seemed angry with him far more than she was in

charity with him, but he had not thought that would be an
insurmountable problem. Once he figured out why it was that
every time he spoke to her he made her angry, he would take
care not to say whatever it was that made her angry. Or, if he
could not figure it out, he would just be careful not to say
anything at all beyond 'let us fuck' or 'if you have need, I will
fuck you', thereby avoiding the issue altogether.

Since he had fully embraced the idea and had been

struggling to develop a strategy to settle the matter, though,
it seemed to him that she had set herself against the idea.
More accurately, he supposed, since she did not know what
they had in mind, she had become obstinately determined to
thwart them by distancing herself from them.

He could not see her determination to have a separate

place for herself as anything but a complete rejection of the

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idea of any kind of intimacy at all, which was bound to make
courting her considerably more difficult.

And he did not have to look far for the reason for it.

Damien, he knew, had taken advantage of his opportunity to
sleep with her and fucked her. Just as obviously, to him, she
was not happy with the outcome.

The moment his gaze fell on Damien, his anger magnified

tenfold. His eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened until pain shot
through it and upwards to join the rage and impotence
pounding in his temples. Clenching and unclenching his hands
into fists, he crossed the rocky ground to Damien in long,
purposeful strides.

Damien glanced up, did a double take, and, seeing the

murder in Kameron's eyes, straightened abruptly.

"Exactly what did you do last night when you went to take

your rest shift?"

In spite of all he could do, Damien felt color flood his face.

Part of it was anger at being challenged, but most of it, he
realized, was discomfort and guilt. He was not about to admit
to Kameron that he had performed even worse than Kameron
had, however. "Nothing you had not done yourself," he
growled challengingly.

The fist Kameron planted in his belly should not have

caught him off-guard, but it did, knocking the breath from
him briefly.

"You did something you should not have, or did not do

something you should have else she would not have wanted
her own bed!" Kameron snarled accusingly.

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Instead of planting a return blow in Kameron's belly,

Damien balled his hand into a fist and drove it upwards,
catching Kameron beneath the chin. His head snapped back
on his neck. He staggered back a few steps, caught his
balance, and launched himself at Damien, slinging four
punches at him so fast, he only managed to block one. He
caught one with his chin and the other two in the belly.

That time, he was prepared, however, and tightened the

muscles enough to keep from getting the breath knocked out
of him, following with a jab to Kameron's chin and a round
house punch to the side of his jaw that sent him reeling away.
Uttering a snarl of rage, he charged after him, intent on
plowing him down. Kameron recovered more quickly than
he'd anticipated, however. Whirling out of the way as Damien
charged, he punched him in the back as he flew by, adding
enough impetuous to send Damien sprawling.

Pain shot through him as he hit the rocky ground and

skidded forward on his hand, one elbow, and one knee. He
rolled, leaping to a crouch just in time to catch Kameron as
he flew at him, knocking him onto his back. Kameron
slammed a fist into first one jaw and then the other, rocking
his head from side to side hard enough to rattle his brain
before he managed to buck him off and roll so that he was on
top. He was able to connect two punches with Kameron's face
before he found himself on the bottom again.

The next time he succeeded in throwing Kameron off, he

rolled away and leapt to his feet before Kameron could catch
him and pin him to the ground again, kicking Kameron in the

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face as he tried to do the same. The blow pitched Kameron
flat of his back, stunning him for several moments.

Damien considered following with a few more punches

while he had the opportunity, but he was beginning to tire
and he'd worn off most of his own rage. He decided to wait to
see if Kameron wanted to continue.

He did not have long to wait. Within a moment, Kameron

was on his feet again, his face still a mask of rage.

"Not that I have not enjoyed watching," Gavin murmured

from the sidelines where he had come to watch, "but why
have you decided to pound Damien into the dirt?"

Kameron did not even glance at him. "He fucked her," he

snarled accusingly.

"You fucked her!" Damien snapped. "Why should I not

have?"

"That was before we had decided to contract with her. And

I did not piss her off!"

"She certainly did not seem to be happy with your

performance!" Damien shot back at him. "She has glared at
you ever since!"

Kameron punched him in the nose then ducked when

Damien, momentarily blinded by the pain, swung at him in
retaliation. "At least she did not seem distrustful," he
growled. "You have ruined the plan before we could even set
it into motion!"

"Since you did not have a plan, I do not see how you can

say that I have ruined it!"

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Kameron looked as if he was considering punching Damien

again but apparently decided against it. Instead, after glaring
at him for several moments, he turned and stalked off.

Gavin eyed Damien with a measure of disgust. "That was

not well done."

"How do you know it was not well done!" Damien snarled.
Gavin eyed him speculatively. "I was referring to the fact

that you acted without waiting until Kameron had formulated
a plan. What are you referring to?"

Damien reddened. "Nothing," he growled and stalked off to

find water to wash the blood from his face and hands.

Gavin planted his fists on his hips. "Well, I will tell you now

that if he is right and you have ruined everything I will kick
your ass myself. I have not fucked her, and I am damned
tired of not having a woman!"

* * * *

"It did not take them long to figure out that we had taken

the high ground," Kameron muttered, staring down at the
human encampment below them.

Gavin shrugged. "They seemed surprised when we fired

upon them. I am not convinced that they knew before.
Mayhap it is only that it occurred to them, as it did us, that
this was by far the most defensible position, beyond the fact
that whatever supplies any of us had brought would be here."

"I do not suppose it matters. They would have come

eventually, but I had thought we might have a few days
without trouble so that we could focus on the matter of
contracting with Zoe and mayhap even settle it before we had

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to focus on defending our position." He slid a narrow eyed
glare in Damien's direction. "Now we will have to divide our
time between watching them, working on repairing the ship,
and our campaign. And I can not think that will work well.
The division of our time is bound to slow us on all counts."

"Have you worked out a plan then?" Kyle asked.
"Taking into account that we have nothing to work with,

the fact that none of us actually knows how to go about
courting, and that we have very little time to devote to it
before we are either picked up by high command or forced to
repair the ship and leave to avoid being overrun by the
mercenaries the company has set upon us? No."

Gavin and Kyle exchanged a speaking glance and turned to

glare at Damien.

Damien did his best to ignore the accusation in their gazes.
"I had begun to think that the only option open to us was

to reconsider Damien's suggestion and simply ask her directly
and then try to convince her of the merits of it. I can not help
but think that the fact that she seems to be shunning us is a
strong indication that that will not work, though," Kameron
continued thoughtfully after a moment.

"She has not glared at any of us in days," Damien pointed

out hopefully.

"She does not look at us at all!" Kameron snapped.
"Or speak beyond to ask one of us to pass the salt!" Gavin

put in.

"Or 'excuse me', when she wishes to pass, or 'thank you',"

Kyle added angrily. "I do not see how one can speak and act
so politely and still make it seem as if they are angry and that

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one has done something to offend! Particularly when I know
damned well that I have not offended her!"

"Mayhap I should ask her why she is offended?" Damien

suggested uncomfortably since he had a very good idea why
she was offended. "Then, when she has had the opportunity
presented to her to vent her anger, I could beg pardon."

Kameron, Gavin, and Kyle eyed him speculatively,

considering the offer, but finally rejected it. "I would agree,"
Kameron said, "except that I am not certain that it would be a
good idea to remind her."

"She obviously has not forgotten!" Damien snapped. "I do

not see that I would be reminding her!"

"I would prefer to try to direct her mind elsewhere!"

Kameron snarled at him. "If it did not make her happy when I
blackened your eye and bloodied your nose, I can not see
that it would improve matters for her to tell you that you
were a bad fuck and failed to please her!"

Damien felt his face heat. "She came!" he snapped

defensively. "It could not have been that bad or she would
not have! I do not see why you are so certain it was my
performance that made her angry. She did nothing but glare
at you after you had fucked her! Besides, she said that she
did not like it to be called fucking. She said 'women do not
like for men to call it fucking. They prefer to call it making
love so that they can pretend that it is not meaningless sex'!"

Kameron glared at him at the suggestion that she was

angry because of what he had done, but the last only
confused him. "You must have heard her wrong. What could
she possibly mean by 'meaningless sex'? Sex is not

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meaningless! I wanted to fuck her. Is that not meaningful? I
enjoyed fucking her and she enjoyed it. How could that be
meaningless?"

Gavin glared at both of them. "Well, I have not fucked

her!" he said tightly. "But it seems to me if you have both
tried and she is not happy, then Kyle and I should have a try
at it and see if we can! That would take her mind off of her
anger over the fact that Damien did it badly. There is nothing
like a good experience to put a bad one from one's mind!"

Damien punched him in the face.
Gavin uttered a snarl of rage and dove at him. Within

moments they were rolling back and forth on the ground near
the cliff's edge where they had stopped to talk, trading blows,
and scuffling for a superior position. Damien eyed the two of
them with irritation for several moments. Finally, when they
rolled his way, he aimed a kick at Gavin's mid-section that
lifted him off the ground, momentarily toppling him off of
Damien. "Watch the edge," he muttered dispassionately, "else
you will both go off and you will not be in any shape to
consider fucking or anything else for a while."

Folding his arms over his chest, Kyle watched Damien and

Gavin for a few moments while he pondered the situation. "I
think Gavin's suggestion has merit," he finally said.

Kameron slid a narrow eyed glance at him. "You only think

that because you have not fucked her yet. You are not
thinking that it might improve the situation, only that you
want to fuck her."

Kyle glared him. "That is easy for you to say when you

already have!"

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"It is because I already have that I know that is what is

foremost in your mind, because it is foremost in my mind!"
Kameron muttered, unconsciously reaching down to massage
his aching balls. "If I had not fucked her I might be able to
think of something else. As it is, that is all I think about when
I look at her and it has not been conducive to rational thought
or helped me in devising a workable plan."

"That does not mean it would not work!"
"It does not mean that it will either," Kameron shot back

at him absently, his gaze on Gavin and Damien as they
gained their feet and began to batter at one another more
effectively, "and we do not have time to make more mistakes!
We must think of something that is certain to work."

Damien stumbled back in their direction, aided by the fist

Gavin had driven into his belly. Kameron punched him in the
back, then slammed his palms against his shoulders, sending
him forward again. "Damn it, Damien!" he snarled. "If you
push me off this cliff I will beat you senseless myself when I
am able!"

Exchanging a glance with Kyle, he jerked his head

suggestively and the two of them moved further from the
fight and the edge of the cliff.

"It does not seem to me that she could be less receptive to

the idea of contracting with us than she is now," Kyle
pursued.

"She has not tried to escape yet," Kameron pointed out.

"She is certain to try if she feels threatened."

Kyle eyed him indignantly. "I would not try to force her!

And I am certain that Gavin has no such notion. We would

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ask her ... very politely." He frowned. "Or mayhap it would be
better to offer to ease her needs?"

Kameron frowned. "I have not seen that she is suffering as

I am!" he retorted. "If she felt even half the need that I do, it
seems to me that she would already have requested that one
of us take care of her needs. For I do not mind telling you
that it is worse once one has done it than before when one
has only thought about doing it! In any case, I am not
certain, mind you, but I suspect that is what Damien did. He
will not tell me, but he looks very uncomfortable every time it
is mentioned and you will recall what he told us she had said.
That seems to me to indicate that that is exactly what he did
and that is probably why she is angry now."

Kyle frowned. "If it is the wording, then we can be sure to

use the words she prefers."

"I would feel better if I knew what had happened."
"I would feel better if I had fucked her myself."
Kameron sent him a narrow eyed look. "Do not ask.

Convince her as I did—or not. Damien has certainly proven
that she will take exception if she is asked! I can not fathom
why, especially when Damien will not say exactly what
happened, but we must remember that she is not a creature
of logic and very likely we would not understand if he told us
and will never understand the workings of her mind. Since I
can not think of anything that might work better, I will not
say not to, but I will tell you that if she is more angry
afterward and flatly refuses to consider contracting with us,
then I will pitch you and Gavin both off of this fucking cliff!"

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Fifteen

Gavin was not nearly as elated that Kyle had secured

permission for their mission as Kyle had expected. "You do
not want to fuck her?" he demanded, pardonably indignant,
he thought, that Gavin was not appreciative of his efforts on
their behalf.

Gavin paused in the act of tightening the bolt he was

working on and sent him a look that questioned his level of
intelligence. "It may have escaped your notice, but Zoe is not
likely to find me attractive when Damien has battered my
face!" he retorted irritably.

Kyle looked him over critically. "We will wait until it is dark

and she can not see your face. They do not see well at night
as we do. We will be working on this engine until it is time for
the evening meal anyway."

Gavin frowned thoughtfully. Setting his wrench aside, he

examined his swollen lip carefully with his fingers while he
tested his loosened teeth with his tongue. "You are certain
Kameron gave us a go on the mission?" he asked, flicking a
glance toward Kameron, who was working at the other end of
the ship on the outer hull panels that had been damaged.

"He said that he would not say not to," Kyle responded.
"But?"
Kyle shrugged. "He will hold us accountable if we make her

more angry."

"We can not know that we will not make her angry! If he

charges us with insubordination, we will end in the brig as

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soon as we are planet side and I have been cooped up in this
thing so long now I do not like the thought of being confined
in something even smaller for more months!"

Again, Kyle shrugged. "It is not as if we have never spent

time in the brig anyway. At least in this case it would be for
something that we enjoyed doing."

Gavin sent him a look of disgust. "Aside from the fact that

we do not know that we would get to fuck before she got
angry, I would like to know how it is that you have figured
that we would enjoy it. That is not in any of my sims! And I
know damned well that you have never had more than sims
anymore than I have, so do not try to tell me differently!"

Kyle might have considered doing just that if not for the

fact that he knew very well that Gavin had every reason to
know he had not. He frowned. "I have the urge and I did not
have the urge before the change."

"That is the urge to procreate," Gavin said testily. "That

does not mean that you would enjoy it, only that you feel the
impulse to do so. And we all feel that, else we would not be
so anxious to convince Zoe to take us that we are behaving
completely illogically by focusing on her when we should be
focused on fixing the ship and getting out of here before the
mercs the company hired figure out a way up here."

"I have not made a fool of myself!" Kyle said indignantly.
"Yet."
Kyle glared at him. "Meaning?"
"You will certainly feel like one, whether you look like one

or not, when you ask her and she says no. Look at Damien.

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He fucked her and now he wants to fight any time anyone
looks at him and that is because he feels like a fool!"

"You were the one who punched him in the face," Kyle

said.

Gavin glared at him. "He punched me first," he reminded

Kyle. "I had only said that you and I should try to give her a
good experience to usurp the bad one he had given her and
he punched me in the face. Is that rational?"

Kyle thought it over but decided he was more interested in

the issue of whether or not it would be enjoyable to fuck Zoe.
"Kameron as much as admitted that he had enjoyed it. He
said that he had not been able to think of anything since. If it
was only procreation, then he should be able to put it from
his mind because he has done it. In any case, I distinctly
recall that Damien had a stupid look on his face afterward, for
much of the day in fact. What else would account for that?"

Gavin shrugged. "Mayhap she brained him and it took a

while for his nanos to correct the damage?"

"I had not thought of that," Kyle conceded. "Do you think

that she could hit that hard?"

"It is as much a matter of knowing where to strike and

does not actually take that hard a blow. I do not see why she
could not."

Kyle was thoughtful for a few minutes. "I think that I will

just go and check the cabin and make certain she has not
tucked a club beneath her mattress."

Gavin lifted his head and looked around. "Be quick," he

advised, "she is coming this way."

* * * *

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The only thing more appealing than big, handsome, half

naked—make that mostly naked—muscle bound men, Zoe
reflected, was big, handsome, mostly naked, muscle bound
men flexing all those lovely muscles—with sunlight gleaming
off of the moisture generated by their efforts. It was almost
more beauty and virility than she could handle. She had been
trying very hard to occupy her mind with something else,
anything else, and found that nothing kept her mind, or her
gaze, from straying to the men working on the ship.

Bend and flex, bend and flex—she would almost have

thought they were doing it on purpose to tempt her except
she was pretty sure they had no idea how much they
appealed to her and they never wore more than the skimpy
little briefs that covered nothing but their groin area. It wasn't
as if they had stripped down to do the work, and even if they
had it was understandable given that it was a very warm day.

And getting warmer by the minute despite the fact that the

sun was well on its way to dropping below the horizon.

But then 'weather-wise' wasn't the warmth that was

bothering her. She'd been sitting in the shade trying to look
busy, flicking an occasional 'oh so casual' glance in their
direction and, when none of them seemed to notice, staring
at them until it seemed one of them might look in her
direction.

Damien and Gavin looked a little the worse for wear. She'd

heard the commotion outside and moved to one of the ports
to watch so she knew they'd fought. She just didn't know if it
had been some sort of exercise, like sparring, or if they'd

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actually been fighting. She was inclined to think the latter,
mostly because it seemed to her that they'd picked a damned
poor spot for sparring. She'd thought several times that they
were going to go off the edge and had to clamp a hand over
her mouth to keep from giving away the fact that she was
watching. It had taken a strenuous effort to refrain from
stalking outside and demanding that they move their fight to
a safer location before they gave her a heart attack.

Whatever their disagreement had been about, if it was a

difference of opinion that had started it, they appeared to
have dismissed it when they'd worn themselves out punching
each other.

But they both bore the marks that proved neither of them

had been pulling their punches. Gavin had a swollen lip and
one eye was swollen half closed. Damien's jaw and nose were
swollen. Beyond that, their chests and bellies and arms and
legs all bore interesting multi-colored bruises from punching
and kicking each other and they were scraped and scratched
from plowing across the pebble strewn rock they were
camped on.

She shook her head. She could not fathom what had made

either of them angry enough for such a battle. Gavin and
Damien both seemed so mild mannered and easy going most
of the time!

Kameron was the brooding one. She'd been certain when

Kameron and Damien had gotten into the fight several days
ago that it had been Kameron's fault. She'd known he was
angry when he had dropped her mattress on the floor of the
cabin and stalked out, known he was looking for a fight.

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Obviously, he'd found one and she'd been wrong to suppose
he'd simply picked a fight with Damien, because here it was
only a few days later and Damien, who'd just lost the
battered, bruised look from his last scrape, was looking as
bad as he had from the fight before. It seemed significant
that Damien had been in two fights with two different men.

She couldn't help but feel like it was her fault somehow.

She just wasn't sure how she figured into it, but maybe it was
just that Damien felt rejected?

He shouldn't, she thought irritably. He'd asked to fuck.

They'd fucked. He'd been sweet—and exciting and,
comparably speaking, the sex had been at least on a par with
what she'd experienced with Kameron, which was to say
rating up there with better than anything she'd ever
experienced before.

But he'd set the ground rules, damn it! He'd asked to fuck.

If he'd meant more than that he should have said so. And the
ground rules were that if it was just meaningless sex, either
partner could call the shots. Anything afterwards was strictly
icing and neither party had a right to gripe if they didn't get
seconds or thirds.

She wouldn't have minded seconds or thirds from either or

both, but if they were going to fight about it later, she
thought she'd made the right decision to keep her distance.

It was actually a little deflating that none of them, after

staring at her like they wanted to eat her alive for days,
hadn't even acted like they'd noticed she had her own bed
now—not by comment or look. And none of them had tried to
creep into her bed, although she'd more than half expected it.

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If the truth be told, she wouldn't have minded. At least

then she could have sex with a clear conscience. If she didn't
initiate it, then it wasn't her fault if they fought about it later.

She sighed as she trudged inside to prepare the evening

meal. They'd, tacitly, begun to rotate and take turns.
Actually, the guys had just fallen into it like it was a typical
routine for them, but she hadn't felt right not taking a turn
with the daily chores. There wasn't much else she could do to
'earn' her keep. They weren't messy, she supposed because
they were military, so there wasn't a lot of cleaning to do.
She didn't know one end of a wrench, or any of the other
tools they used, from another, so she couldn't help with the
repairs.

She supposed she could sit under them and hand them

things but it smacked just a little too much of pushing herself
forward for attention to suit her. It really wasn't a 'necessary'
task, and they were bound to perceive it as an attempt to flirt
with them—which it would be.

Actually, she had a feeling they didn't really grasp

flirtation.

It had occurred to her that, although they had been

programmed as pleasure bots, it didn't follow that they would
have been programmed to flirt or to seduce. Why would they
need to be when they wouldn't encounter that kind of
situation? The company wouldn't have given them any
programming or data unless it had been necessary to their
various functions, and since they had apparently done nothing
beyond soldiering and struggling to survive, it didn't appear
that they'd had the opportunity to learn by experience.

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She supposed she shouldn't expect them either to know

how or to recognize it when she did, but, really, it was sort of
basic human nature, wasn't it, the mating ritual and all that?
Even if they weren't entirely human, they were derived from
the same gene pool, and they were actually more intelligent
than the average human. They certainly knew more than the
average human. Shouldn't they be able to figure it out?

Either they hadn't been able to or they just didn't want to

flirt with her.

She didn't know why not! They'd been talking about trying

to get her to contract with them before! She was certain she
hadn't heard wrong.

Had they changed their minds? Had they thought it over

and realized it just wouldn't work? Or wasn't a good idea
given that she was human?

Not that she wanted to. She'd just like to know why they'd

decided she wasn't right for them when they'd seemed to
think so before.

Of course, they hadn't known her then. They'd been going

strictly on appearance, which, she supposed, was flattering in
a way, or would've been if she hadn't been the only available
female and sort of was anyway because they had seemed to
find her very appealing not just acceptable.

It wasn't as if she was a bitch or a complainer or lazy! She

wasn't stupid or useless. She didn't babble on and on about
things they would have no interest in just to hear herself talk.

Barring extreme personality or physical defects, assuming

she was right and they had lost interest, why?

"Short attention span," she muttered to herself.

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They had reason to be preoccupied with other things, she

conceded. The ship needed to be repaired if they were going
to go anywhere and then there were the soldiers the company
had hired just waiting for a chance to get up to the plateau
somehow and finish what they'd started. Despite what she
thought she'd heard about them deliberately delaying repairs,
however, it seemed to her that they were making very good
progress very quickly. Beyond that, it had taken the cyborgs
a good while to climb the cliff. She didn't have a clear idea of
exactly how long because she'd been scared shitless and she
knew that always made time seemed to stretch out, but it
must have taken twenty or thirty minutes anyway. She
thought it would probably take the soldiers a good bit longer
than that, probably twice as long, and that meant they
weren't an imminent threat. The cyborgs patrolled the
perimeter. They'd had no trouble at all, so far, preventing
another confrontation by picking off the soldiers whenever
they tried the climb. They had, in point of fact, rained fire
down on the soldiers until they'd decided to withdraw to a
safer, less exposed, distance.

She didn't see that the problems were sufficient to

completely absorb them. In any case, they hadn't been too
preoccupied with the problems, before, to ignore her. If
anything, the situation was far more under their control now
than it had been.

She should be relieved, she told herself sternly, that it

seemed she didn't have to worry about dealing with any sort
of complication like that to her own plans. She didn't know
why she couldn't convince herself to be.

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* * * *

Kameron felt both reluctance and resentment. The

reluctance he understood, at least partly, although he was
aware that the part he had acknowledged was not the whole
reason for it.

He did not like the uncertainty that came with guessing.

He liked order and he liked to have solid information and logic
behind every decision. Gavin and Kyle's plan was too illogical
to give him any confidence that it had a chance of working.

How did it make sense to consider doing something that

had already been tried twice before, both by him and Damien,
and had produced exactly the opposite results from what they
wanted?

It did not. He knew it did not. And that knowledge was

behind his reluctance.

The other part of his reluctance, he finally realized, was

from the fact that, even though he knew it was only fair to
allow it when both he and Damien had, he did not like the
idea of Gavin and Kyle fucking Zoe, and this was where the
resentment also came into play.

Beyond that he had almost a fear that it would work for

them when it had not for either him and Damien, which was
completely illogical. He should want it to work, not hope that
it would fail to work.

"I still think it would be best to wait until the damage to

my face has been repaired," Gavin muttered, sending Damien
an accusing glare across the table that separated them, for

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they had lingered at the table to discuss strategy after the
evening meal while Zoe made use of the facilities to bathe.

Damien smiled provokingly, folding his arms over his chest

in a way that was almost a challenge in itself, and Kameron
thought for several moments that Gavin would resume the
fight. After clenching and unclenching his fists a few times,
however, Gavin apparently decided to ignore the gauntlet, but
then Kyle, fortuitously, redirected his ire anyway.

"I do not see that that matters. It will not interfere. She

will not be able to see that well in the dark. But, if you are so
greatly concerned, you should wait a few days and I will
proceed."

Gavin narrowed his eyes at him. "It goes to 'attraction',"

he growled. "I can see why you are not concerned about it.
Your face is not swollen and misshapen and discolored! But
we agreed that this would be a joint mission. We go together
or we both wait."

Kyle sent him a mulish look. "As Kameron pointed out, we

do not have the luxury of a great deal of time or even any
way to determine how much time we will have to achieve our
goal. I do not think it wise to wait. You do not look nearly as
bad, in any case, as you did yesterday. The swelling is mostly
gone and she will not be able to discern the colors."

Gavin's lips flattened with disgust but after expelling an

irritated huff of breath he seemed to dismiss it. "Mayhap we
should just focus on our plan of assault?"

"You should be direct and ask her," Damien suggested

promptly.

"NO!" Gavin, Kyle, and Kameron said almost in unison.

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Damien glared at them. "Why not?"
"Because it did not work for you!" Gavin said testily.
Damien flushed. "If it had not, then I would not have

fucked her!"

"Well, you did something wrong!" Kameron said

forthrightly. "If it was not that, then I would like to know
what it was!"

Damien eyed him resentfully but offered no explanation,

mostly because he was not at all certain he knew the answer
to that—not that he was about to admit it.

"I was thinking that we should wait until she is asleep,"

Kyle said slowly. "Guerilla tactics. She will be caught off
guard."

Recalling abruptly that he had made a mental note to

remember that Zoe was not at all agreeable when awakened,
Damien struggled to keep his glee over the prospect to
himself. "That seems like a likely possibility," he agreed.

Gavin eyed him thoughtfully for a moment and finally

turned to Kameron. "What did you do?" he asked.

Kameron shrugged. "She asked me."
"She did no such thing!" Damien snapped.
Kameron glared at him. "She told me she was horny,

which is much the same thing! I offered to take care of her
need and that was that."

"That was not that!" Damien countered. "She politely

declined your offer—several times. I heard her. You heard
her, as well. Do not tell me you did not, for I know that there
is nothing wrong with your hearing and you were closer than I
was. You simply ignored it and proceeded!"

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Kameron studied him assessingly for several moments. "I

do not recall it that way," he said stiffly.

"Then you should have your memory chip scanned for

defect!"

With an effort, Kameron resisted the urge to slam his

elbow into Damien's ribs. "She did not say no," he growled
after a moment. "She indicated that I had misunderstood,
which I determined to be untrue. She was aroused and
moreover open to the idea or I could not have convinced her
to proceed merely by massaging her to help her to relax! She
responded when I kissed her and displayed a responsiveness
that indicated both arousal and willingness!"

"I think we will have a great deal of trouble with that,"

Damien murmured thoughtfully.

Gavin, Kyle, and Kameron all stared at him with a mixture

of confusion and irritation. "With what?" Kameron demanded
when he failed to explain what 'that' was.

Damien propped his elbows on the table top, stroking his

chin thoughtfully. "There is no counting on the fact that when
she says 'yes' she means yes, or when she says 'no' she
actually means no, or predicting whether yes will continue to
be yes and vice versa."

They stared at him.
"We have already established that she is not a creature of

logic!" Kameron growled irritably. "We will have to work with
that."

"Yes, but how? She said to you that she was horny, and

then that she was not, then she did not object when you

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fucked her, but she was angry afterward. She said no when I
asked her, but then she pleasured me and later...."

He broke off his musings when he noticed that all three of

the others were staring at him in disbelief.

"You are making that up!" Gavin said with angry

conviction.

"I am not!" Damien snapped indignantly. "She told me to

lie on my back. At first I thought it was because she had
decided against fucking, but then she kissed and caressed me
and she took my cock into her mouth and stimulated it with
her mouth and tongue and hand...."

He broke off when he realized that he had very nearly told

them that she had pleasured herself and discovered that they
were staring at him with varying degrees of outrage and
disbelief.

"She pleasured you?" Kameron demanded in dawning fury.
"That is not in the sims!" Kyle said indignantly. "It is not in

my sims! Is it in your sims?"

Gavin ignored him. "That is what you did wrong! You were

supposed to pleasure her. It is no wonder she has decided
she does not want to fuck any of us!"

Damien felt his face redden but he was as angry as he was

embarrassed. "She came. I do not see that it is all that
important that nothing proceeded according to the sims if she
found pleasure in the encounter!"

"It matters," Gavin snarled, "because it is exactly

backwards from what it should have been! We are trying to
convince her that she wants us. How are we to do that if she
must do the work?"

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"What I would like to know," Kameron growled, "is why

she pleasured you! She did not offer to pleasure me! It is
because you did everything wrong!"

"I did not!" Damien snapped defensively. "I went by the

steps of arousal very carefully! You are the one who missed
half of the steps!"

He was somewhat mollified to see Kameron redden

uncomfortably.

"I did not miss the steps," Kameron muttered after a

moment. "There is protocol for eliminating a few of the steps
if it is deemed unnecessary or undesirable for any reason.
She had suggested herself that the situation required a quick
solution to the problem. I evaluated that suggestion and her
level of response, arrived at the logical conclusion that it was
unnecessary and undesirable at that time to prolong the
encounter, and proceeded with penetration!"

Damien narrowed his eyes at Kameron. "It was certainly a

very good thing that you correctly assessed the level of her
arousal, and that I took the precaution of stimulating her
breasts myself, otherwise she might not have had the
opportunity to achieve climax, for you came almost before
she did!"

Kameron shifted uncomfortably. "She came twice," he

reminded Damien. "Obviously she found it a satisfactory
performance."

"Obviously, she did not!" Damien retorted. "She did not

seem to me to be all that satisfied with your performance!
She did not ask again and she did not offer to pleasure you as
she did me!"

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[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Sixteen

Kameron yielded to the impulse to slug Damien that time.

Damien slammed into the wall but recovered and retaliated,
knocking Kameron off of the end of the bench. Kameron leapt
to his feet and grabbed Damien by the throat before he could
rise from the bench. Struggling, the two of them rolled off of
the bench and were temporarily wedged between the bench
and the refrigeration unit behind it.

Gavin and Kyle both surged to their feet before the two

struggling men could turn the table over on them.

"We have not even completed the repairs on the ship!"

Gavin bellowed. "If you must do that, can you not take it
outside where you will not damage anything else?"

He thought at first that both men would ignore him, but

Damien, who was on top and managed to struggle to his feet
first, stepped back, glared at Kameron for several moments,
and finally turned to stalk outside. Kameron seized the
opportunity to sweep Damien's feet out from under him since
he was still on the floor. Damien double stepped, trying to
regain his balance and failed. His own forward momentum,
coupled with Kameron's kick, pitched him toward the floor in
a skid that brought him to the edge of the gangplank.

Leaping to his feet the moment he'd struck, Kameron

followed and kicked Damien in the ribs before he could rise,
sending him rolling down the gangplank.

"Foul!" Gavin called.

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"Not a foul!" Kameron retorted. "I did not call a cease. It is

not my fault he ignored the rules of engagement!"

Shrugging, Gavin moved to the bench across from Kyle

and settled again. Kyle looked torn between following to
watch the match and settling to continue the interrupted
discussion but finally resumed his seat after Kameron had
charged down the gang plank after Damien.

"It seems to me that they both screwed up!" Gavin

muttered irritably. "I do not think it wise to try anything
either of them tried before."

Kyle nodded. "I have given it a good deal of thought and I

do not see that that leaves us any alternative other than
guerilla tactics—not in the sims, I know, for those are
contingent upon a request, but I feel that we must improvise.
The subject must be relaxed and receptive. If she is asleep
she can not help but be both."

Gavin frowned. "I did not like the look in Damien's eyes

when he agreed with you," he said slowly.

Kyle looked shocked. "You can not believe he would have

agreed with me if he thought it would fail? That would not be
logical at all when it is obvious our campaign is not going
anywhere as it is. If we do not succeed, then we all fail."

Gavin shrugged. "True, and I admit that it does not sound

logical at all that he would have any reason to want us to fail,
but still.... I do not like it when my rest is interrupted."

Kyle considered it thoughtfully for a moment, conceding

that there was the chance that, if woken, she might be
disagreeable. "You think it might be best to approach her
while she is awake?" he asked doubtfully. "I do not see how

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we are to do that without asking her and we have already
established that that does work well."

"I think it is too late for that option anyway," Gavin

responded. "I have not heard the water running for a while
and she has not come out. I think we must assume that she
is already asleep and that we will have to wake her ... unless
you want to wait for another night?"

Kyle debated briefly. "I am anxious," he admitted finally.

"It is not just that I do not want to wait. It is not even just
that I am anxious to attempt to procreate, although I do not
mind telling you that I have become uncomfortably aware of
the need. The problem is, the longer we wait, the more I
think of Kameron and Damien's failure, and the more doubts I
have of success. That is never good in a campaign—to wait
until demoralization begins to set in, or has already."

Gavin studied him, but found that he was unwilling to

admit that the same doubts had begun to plague him. There
was no sense, he felt, in admitting such a thing when it was
liable to have the undesirable effect of confirming Kyle's fear
of failure. "Then I think we must go with your plan ...
unless.... We will need to use the facilities ourselves. I am
certain I stink when I have worked on the ship all day,
besides being soiled from the grime. We must bathe, else she
will smell us coming. There will be no possibility of a sneak
attack. Perhaps that will awaken her? We must consider it, in
any case—what we will do if she awakens. Retreat and wait
for her to go back to sleep? Or proceed?"

Frowning, Kyle considered that possibility. "I do not like it,

but I think we will have to simply try to gauge her

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receptiveness if we awaken her. If she looks as if she is
searching for a weapon, we will retreat. If not—and I think
there is this possibility—I believe we can assume that, awake
or not, she is incapable of clear thought and would still be
vulnerable to attack."

Gavin nodded, trying to ignore the uneasiness that began

to war with his excitement over launching their assault. The
waiting was always hardest, regardless of the logic of waiting
until the right moment for any campaign to have the best
chance of success. "I think I should go first."

"On what grounds?" Kyle demanded indignantly.
On the grounds that he was too anxious to wait for Kyle to

go first, he thought, but realized that was not likely to
persuade Kyle and persuasion seemed more desirable at the
moment than beating the hell out of Kyle since that would
take more time and he could not count on being the winner in
the contest. "I outrank you."

"Which is why I generally take point!" Kyle countered.
"Unless I offer to take point, which I did!" Gavin growled.
They eyed one another challengingly for several moments.
"We are wasting time arguing," Kyle muttered.
Gavin frowned, but then a solution abruptly occurred to

him. "We should flip a coin."

Kyle glared at him indignantly. "If you are thinking about

using that two faced coin you acquired, I will tell you now that
I am not going to fall for that again!"

Irritation flickered through Gavin, but he merely shrugged.

"Then we will have to go at the same time," he snapped
irritably.

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Surprise flickered across Kyle's face, but then he frowned.

"I do not see that that is possible."

"It is possible," Gavin insisted. "It will simply require ...

adjustment."

Kyle still looked doubtful. "It is not one the sims."
"It is explained, however, in the section regarding

deviations of the act that might be called for."

Kyle accessed his data. He was not at all convinced that it

would appeal to Zoe, but it certainly appealed to him. "Which
configuration?" he asked suspiciously.

Gavin was tempted to inform him that he would take point

but thought it best not to advise Kyle of his intention. "I think
we will have to proceed and act upon the moment. We can
not anticipate how she will behave, after all. What difference
does it make? You will still get to fuck her! And, if we go at
the same time, there will not be the chance that one of us will
achieve our goal and the other not."

Kyle glared at him in tightlipped, suspicious, silence for a

moment. "I can not procreate if I do not get the hole with the
womb in it!"

"This is an exercise, soldier!" Gavin snarled, losing his

temper. "The objective here is to persuade her to allow us the
opportunity to procreate by convincing her to contract with
us! We do not know if we will have live rounds to work with or
not! We also do not know if she will be fertile or not!"

"Then it can not matter who takes point!"
"Exactly!" Gavin snapped before it occurred to him that

Kyle might consider that a capitulation to his claim.

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They glared at one another for several moments. "Well,"

Kyle said finally, "now that that is settled, who will bathe
first?"

"Damn it to hell!" Gavin growled. "We will be at this all

night and it will be morning!"

"We can flip a coin," Kyle suggested.
"If you think I do not know that you acquired one of those

double sided coins at the same time I did, then I will tell you
now that you are wrong!"

Kyle had the grace to look uncomfortable.
"We will go together."
"The shower is not big enough for both of us," Kyle pointed

out.

Gavin ground his teeth, seeking patience. "Then I will go

first and wait upon you."

"I have your word on that?"
Gavin hesitated.
Kyle's eyes narrowed.
"I give you my word!" Gavin growled, reluctantly

discarding that possibility of staking his claim to the preferred
position.

* * * *

Whirling away from the door where she'd been listening

since she'd been drawn by the sounds of a brawl, Zoe fled to
her bed and dove in, trying to compose herself to appear to
be sleeping.

It wasn't easy when her heart was thumping at ninety

miles an hour in her ears, but, fortunately, Kyle and Gavin

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were so preoccupied with trying to creep quietly through the
cabin to the facilities that they barely glanced in her direction.

Letting out a sound of relief when the door closed behind

them and she heard the sound of running water, Zoe
considered her options.

Sneak out and hide while they were busy preparing for

'battle'?

Find something to clobber them with when they crept into

her bed?

Wait until they crept into bed with her and then scream

bloody murder and see if that startled them enough to send
their cocks into hiding?

Did she need to do anything that drastic?
Did she want to?
She frowned, considering it and trying to decide if any part

of the frantic pounding of her heart was actually excitement
and anticipation.

Reluctantly, she admitted a little of it might be.
It also wasn't as if she wasn't the least bit interested,

either in sex in general or them in particular. Ordinarily, she
didn't think she would have been open to the idea at all. She
wasn't horny—exactly—not when she'd had very satisfactory
sex with Damien only a few days earlier, and with Kameron
directly before that.

She'd been lusting over Kyle and Gavin, though, pretty

much since she'd met them and then, too, they'd been
flaunting their glorious bodies in front of her for days. Even if
she wasn't really all that 'hungry' it was hard to resist the
temptation for a taste of something that looked that yummy.

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Both of them, though? At the same time, she thought

doubtfully?

She had always thought the idea of a three way was

intriguing, but she'd never had the opportunity to try it, had
never actually considered trying it. She had tried anal sex a
few times, but she hadn't been particularly impressed. Then
again, she hadn't been particularly impressed with any of her
previous sexual encounters, no matter what inventive
positions had come up.

The possibility of trying it with pleasure droids, or least

men who'd been thoroughly 'trained' hitched her interest up
several notches.

Considering what Damien and Kameron had managed to

do separately, she wasn't certain her heart could take two at
once.

But then that thought jacked her interest up a few more

notches.

Ok, so she was a little needy—at least she was now.
Was it a good idea to give in to the temptation, though?
Probably not, she decided.
On a scale of one to ten, though, how bad of a fuck up

would it be, she wondered?

Damien and Kameron had left the ship to pound on each

other, but she couldn't say, definitely, that she was
responsible for it. In point of fact, she found it hard to
convince herself that she had much to do with it at all.
Wouldn't they have been pounding on Gavin and Kyle if there
was any kind of rivalry or jealousy involved instead of giving
them pointers?

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And they'd been doing that, she thought indignantly. Aside

from the fact that their comments hadn't been very flattering,
it certainly proved, to her at least, that it was just sex as far
as they were concerned. If they'd thought of her beyond
considering her nothing more than a receptacle for their lust—
or their attempts to procreate—even lust didn't seem to figure
into it—there shouldn't have been a spirit of cooperation
involved. They wouldn't have been discussing fucking her as if
they were debating the merits of beef versus poultry!

As far she'd been able to tell, the only thing they'd been

arguing about was whether or not they'd done a good 'job'
and what was the best way of going about getting her
cooperation.

So, on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worse case

scenario, she thought she didn't have to worry about the four
of them trying to kill each other if she gave in to temptation.
They were being so god damned civilized about it, she also
didn't think she needed to worry about giving them the
impression that it was open season on Zoe.

Especially if she let them know afterwards that she was

not going to just lay down and spread her legs any time they
took the notion they wanted her to.

It unnerved her to think about being with two of them at

once, though.

Almost enough to make her consider running.
She didn't, though. She lay debating the situation until she

heard the door of the facilities open and knew it was too late
to have a chance of outrunning them—or searching for a
weapon. And it was damned sure too late to scream, because

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she discovered her throat had closed as if someone was
strangling her.

Trying to steady her breath, she rolled onto her side and

presented them with her back. Even though that unnerved
her, she didn't think she could calmly face them.

Maybe they'd take it as a rejection and go away?
There was the sound of a meaty thud behind her, a sharp

exhalation of breath—as if someone had had the breath
knocked out of them—and then Gavin stepped over her and
settled between her and the wall. She knew it was him
because his hair was so pale that, even as little light as there
was, it was easily discernable.

The realization that there was enough light filtering into

the room to allow her to see prompted her to close her eyes
since she knew they could see much better than she could.
Fortunately, Gavin seemed to be glaring at something behind
her—Kyle, no doubt—and hadn't noticed her peering at him.

She was still struggling with the effort to pretend to be

asleep and trying to decide whether an attempt at flight was a
good idea at this late date when Kyle settled behind her.

She didn't know if the idea of being trapped between them

thrilled her or petrified her more.

She thought she might hyperventilate and pass out—or

pass out from holding her breath and trying not to
hyperventilate.

She sensed tension in both Gavin and Kyle and couldn't

decide if it was because they had noticed she was as stiff as a
corpse, or if they were as nervous as she was.

They knew she wasn't asleep!

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Kyle eased out a ragged breath that feathered along her

neck and sent a reflexive shiver through her. Goosebumps
rose along every inch of skin from the top of her head all the
way down to her feet. She felt the hair on her scalp prickle.
Her nipples sprang to attention, rubbing against the fabric of
her suit with every frantic breath she took and driving her
crazy.

A large hand settled on her shoulder, very lightly, and

began to weave a path downward. A second hand skated over
her uppermost breast, slowly tightening in a massaging
motion.

Or maybe a milking motion?
As the hand closed over her beast, it skimmed toward the

peak.

She shifted. She couldn't help it. She didn't know why she

was determined to pretend she was asleep except that her
mind seemed to have frozen on that one thought and
wouldn't let go of it.

Something long and hard and thick that wasn't a pistol

barrel wedged in the cleft of her buttocks as she moved. She
flinched and would have slipped away again except the hand
from her back reached her waist at that moment and glided
around to her belly, pulling her more snugly against Kyle's
rock hard erection.

She was momentarily riveted by the feel of him as he

rocked his pelvis against her. Warmth curled in her belly,
spreading outward through her so that quick thaw set in to
her frozen limbs.

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The mouth that settled over her breast and sent an

electrifying jolt along her nerve endings completely diverted
her attention to Gavin. She swallowed convulsively as he
closed his mouth tightly around her nipple, tugging at it
through the material—which she wished he'd ripped off of her
because as delicious as his mouth felt through the fabric, she
didn't want anything impeding him.

She forgot all about pretending anything. The breath she'd

been holding escaped on a long sigh, dragging a moan behind
it. The moan brought his lips to hers via a delightful trail of
kisses upward. The pressure of his lips along the upper slope
of her breast and collar bone through her suit became skin to
skin contact along her throat and chin until he reached her
parted lips. He sucked at them almost experimentally before
he opened his lips over them and infolded her in the delirious
heat of his mouth. Her taste buds exploded with intoxicating
sensation as he raked his tongue boldly along hers.

His hand settled on her breast, molding it, massaging,

teasing her aching nipple through the fabric.

Kyle's hand slipped down her belly to cup her mound, his

fingers gliding between her legs to stroke her.

She deeply regretted dressing for bed.
As if he'd read her mind, Gavin glided his hand upward

from her beast to the opening at the neck of her suit. The
faint crackling sound of the closure parting drifted to her ears
a split second before she felt the heat of his hand against her
bare skin. He moved it downward, forcing the closure of the
suit open as he blazed a path with his hand from her throat to
her lower belly where he encountered Kyle's hand. Gavin's

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hand drifted upward again. Kyle's slipped into the opening
and continued downward until he'd opened the suit almost to
her knee. His hand rested on her thigh briefly, clenched in a
massaging motion and then glided upward.

She tensed, held her breath, her mind split in two

directions at once as she anticipated his touch.

He didn't disappoint.
His fingers found the lips of her sex and stroked lightly

along them before parting them to delve her cleft.

Delirium set in. Between the feverish assault of Gavin's

mouth on hers and Kyle's deft fingers, she felt as if she was
burning up, drunk, divorced from the world around her. Her
body came alive—everywhere—began to feel as if it was only
one, huge nerve bundle where sensations flew at her from so
many directions at once that she lost track of who was doing
what. It all felt good.

When Gavin broke the kiss to explore her throat again to

her breasts, Kyle ceased to tease her sex and reached to
grasp her suit. Tugging it off of her shoulders and down her
arms, he traced a shivery path of kisses along the back of her
neck and shoulder as Gavin reached his goal at last and
clamped his mouth over the peak of the breast he'd teased
before.

The other one, she mentally directed, briefly.
The tug of his mouth sent her into mindless bliss, frying

nerve endings all the way through her until it set fire to her
sex. Scalding liquid flooded her channel like a lava flow.

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She had no inkling her arms were trapped by her suit until

Kyle tugged at her shoulder, tipping her onto her back and
breaking Gavin's hold on her breast. He moved to the other.

Kyle seized possession of the abandoned one.
She lost her mind completely.
She struggled a little frantically to free her arms for a

moment to grab him, them, anything and finally gave up. She
was putty in their hands, melting wax.

Someone, maybe both of them, stripped her suit from her

at last. She had no idea. She didn't care. They'd removed the
last barrier to the touch of skin to skin. She felt the glide on
hands over her, lips, the hot, damp stroke of tongues. Like
the waves in the sea, they undulated against each other, skin
gliding along skin, the ripple of muscles, hard to soft,
dizzying, wondrous.

The music of gasping breaths and moans and sighs of

pleasure joined the symphony of movement—his, theirs, hers.

She was going to come she thought with abrupt clarity as

Kyle, or maybe Gavin, found her cleft again and teased the
bud at the apex of her thighs—and they hadn't even
penetrated her yet.

Damn it!
"Now!" she demanded in a shaky voice, digging her

fingernails a little frantically into an arm. "Gavin! Kyle!"
Somebody! "I need...! I need...!"

She couldn't seem to get it out, but they seemed to get

the message. Pulling her onto her side to face him, Gavin
grasped one thigh and dragged it across his hips, shifting to
align his body with hers. She released a gasping breath that

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was part relief, part desperation, moving closer to him
eagerly as she felt the glide of his cock along the dampness of
her cleft, felt their bodies engage and the pleasurable
stretching of her sex to accommodate him.

He claimed her in short forays that deepened with each

stroke, stretched her wonderfully, massaging the deep ache
inside of her until she was groaning almost incessantly. He
paused after only a few deep strokes, however, sliding almost
all the way out of her until only the head of his cock
remained, holding her when she tried to buck against him.

She gasped as she felt Kyle enter her with slow, careful

deliberation, forcing herself to relax to accept him until he
was so deeply inside of her she could feel the prickle of the
nest of hair around the root of his cock against her buttocks.
For a moment he held perfectly still and then he began to
move, to set a rhythm that Gavin countered. A climax ripped
through her, dragging sharp cries from her and then the
exquisite tension began to build again before the last of the
shudders had left her.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Seventeen

Satisfied that Damien wasn't likely to get up any time

soon, Kameron looked around for a place to rest and finally
just dropped to the ground, testing his nose with his fingers
to see if it was as swollen as it felt. They had not checked the
perimeter in almost an hour and he knew he should, but he
thought he might as well wait until he had caught his breath.
If he encountered hostiles he was not currently in any state to
deal with it.

Damien struggled to a sitting position when he finally

pushed himself to his feet.

"We need to check the perimeter."
Damien nodded, but made no attempt to rise.
Uttering an irritated sound, Kameron went to him and held

out his hand. "I did not injure you that badly," he said testily.

Damien gave him an annoyed glare but lifted his hand. He

swayed slightly when Kameron had pulled him to his feet.

"You take the south and west quadrant. I will check the

north and east."

He strode away without waiting for Damien to

acknowledge the order. When he reached the edge of the
cliff, he glanced back to check on Damien and discovered he
was standing as he had left him, looking around as if he was
disoriented.

"To your left!"
Damien lifted his hands and stared at them blankly for a

moment, then lifted his head to look at Kameron.

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Kameron pointed.
Nodding, Damien trudged toward the edge of the cliff and

began to search the sides.

Frowning, Kameron watched him for a moment and finally

returned to his own check. He'd finished the north quadrant
when a phaser blast shot past his head so closely it singed
the hair near his ear. Uttering a snarl of rage, he ducked
away from the edge long enough to draw his own pistol. Since
he was unwilling to risk a hole in his head, he triangulated the
direction of the origin of the shot and stuck his pistol out,
firing twice before he heard the scream that told him he'd
found his target. Shoving his pistol back into the holster, he
finished his survey and stopped to wait for Damien to
complete his rounds.

"Bastard nearly shot my ear off," he muttered irately when

Damien finally joined him. "It is obvious they have no concept
of how long it takes to re-grow one! I would be a pretty mess
to be courting with only one ear!"

"I expect he was aiming for your head."
Kameron's lips folded into an annoyed line. "The possibility

occurred to me," he said dryly.

Nodding without a great deal of interest, Damien uttered a

ragged breath and glanced toward the ship. "I am bloody and
filthy. Do you think they are done yet? I would like to bathe."

Kameron flexed his sore arms and looked down to examine

the scrapes along his knees. He frowned, but he thought he
had come away from the battle well enough. The sense of
displeasure that wafted through him was more because
Damien's remark had directed thoughts toward the ship, and

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Zoe, than from any particular concern about his scrapes and
bruises.

He had been at pains to direct his thoughts elsewhere.

Beyond the fact that he had begun to feel almost a sense of
desperation to fuck Zoe again himself, he was not certain why
he felt such turmoil whenever he considered Gavin and Kyle's
plan. He could not dismiss the feeling that the churning rush
of anger that tried to erupt each time his mind settled on it
was not purely from the nearly incessant drumming of need
through him, though. If it was only that, he did not think the
anger would be there, resentment, he thought, because it
was them and not him, impatience to find outlet for his own
needs, but not the strange sense almost of ... loss.

He had felt that, though, almost from the time he had

agreed to seek a commitment from Zoe, the discomfiture that
he was choosing a battle he could not win and that it would
be a loss that would haunt him. He felt it more strongly the
longer he pursued it, not less. He wanted to believe that it
was only because he had experienced passion and now knew
want when he had not before, because he thought that would
be something he could feel for any woman. If he did not get
this woman, he would find another and enjoy it as well.
Unfortunately, he could not convince himself of that. Almost
as often as he recalled the way it had felt being inside of her,
he remembered afterward. He remembered what it felt like to
hold her warm, pliant body against his. Satisfaction had been
a part of it, relief that he had expended himself on her, but
there had been more to it than that, a warming sense of
wellbeing that he could not put a name to.

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He missed that almost as much as he longed to join his

body to hers again. "I think we should wait a bit. They were
still discussing their strategy when we had finished."

Nodding, Damien looked around and finally dropped to the

ground heavily. "I believe I will rest a few minutes more," he
said, lying back and staring up at the night sky.

Shrugging, still weary himself, Kameron settled beside

him.

"You have no ... concern?" Damien asked after a moments.
Kameron did not try to pretend he did not know the

direction of Damien's thoughts. "I have a good deal of
concern, but I have already warned Kyle that if they only
succeed in making her more angry I will pitch him and Gavin
off the damned cliff. We do not have time to make a great
many mistakes. If I had thought of something else, I would
have told them no."

He frowned as the uncertainty swelled inside him again. "I

do not think that we considered all of the difficulties of this
campaign before we decided upon it. Time is not on our side,
for one thing, but then we can do nothing about that and I,
for one, am not certain that we could do a great deal better if
we had more time to analyze Zoe. Beyond her search for her
sister, which she told us, I have no better understanding of
how she thinks or why she does the things she does than in
the beginning.

"I am not even completely certain of why she is searching

for her sister. She told Gavin that she did not know her sister.
I could understand if it was affection—not that I understand
affection, but it is described as a bond and that would make

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sense. She can not feel affection, though, if she does not
know her sister, can she?"

Damien considered it for a moment and finally shrugged.

"Mayhap it has nothing to do with a bond at all and she only
came because she is a detective and she wants to solve the
disappearance?"

Kameron thought that over. "It is a long way to come to

finish a job," he said doubtfully.

"I do not like it," Damien said after a moment, sitting up.

"I have thought about it and I am certain I do not like it!"

"That she came to finish a job?" Kameron asked blankly.
Damien glared at him. "That she is fucking them!"
Understanding dawned. Kameron frowned, struggling with

his own resentment over it. "I do not like it either, if it comes
to that! But then I did not like it when you fucked her either.
If she is to contract with us, though, it is something that must
be accepted, and I am certain that I would like it no better if
it was anyone else."

Damien glared at his hands where they dangled between

his knees, flexing and opening them. "Are you not concerned
that she will enjoy them more?"

Kameron stared at him blankly, trying to ignore the

churning in his belly. "Why would she enjoy them more? They
do not know more than we do!"

"I do not know," Damien said after thinking it over a

moment. "It just occurred to me to wonder if she might enjoy
it more when they fuck her and then decide to contract with
them and not us."

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Kameron stared at him, almost as stunned to discover the

same thoughts as he had had running through Damien's mind
as he was by the surge of something that felt uncomfortably
close to fear inside him. A coldness settled over him for a
moment before the heat of rage dispelled it. "They would not
betray our trust in such a way!" he growled with as much
conviction as he could muster.

"She is the one to decide! Do you think if she agrees to

contract with them but not us that they will not contract?"

Outrage contorted Kameron's features. "Why would she do

that?"

Damien shrugged and looked away. "I do not think we

acquitted ourselves well with her."

Kameron almost felt as if the ground had fallen out from

under him. He would have liked to dispute that assessment.
Unfortunately, he could not convince himself that it was not
true. "We will try again," he said grimly.

Damien glared into the distance. "I could not help but

notice she did not seem anxious to repeat the experience.
And I have to say that I am not happy about that. This thing
will scarcely lie down since and it is damned hard to get my
mind on anything else. I believe that I could drive the
damned rivets with it and have no need for the riveter!"

Since he had had pretty much the same problem since his

experience, he could empathize with Damien's plight—to a
degree—not if it meant yielding his place, for he figured he
was overdue for a try at winning her cooperation again, but
he could certainly understand how Damien felt about it. "They
will be in no better state once they have fucked her. There is

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some consolation in that, at least. I did not have nearly the
trouble with mine until I had done it."

"You are assuming that she will shun them afterward as

she has us!" Damien said angrily. "And that is what I am
worried about—that she will not! Gavin has spoken to her
more than the rest of us put together, and she has conversed
with him if you recall! And I have not forgotten the way she
looked at Gavin and Kyle when they met. I do not claim to
know what was going through her mind, but she certainly
seemed—focused upon them. I do not care if you disagree. I
am certain that she felt 'the attraction'!"

"Because of the damned hair?" Kameron growled angrily.
"Because of something! We should have asked her first!"

Damien said angrily. "Now they will ask and I am certain she
will say yes and then no when we ask!"

Kameron's eyes narrowed. "I will break their necks first

and then toss them over the cliff!" he growled.

* * * *

Zoe roused sandwiched between two very warm, very

heavy bodies. She'd lost touch with the world sandwiched
between the two, however, and there was no sense of
disorientation to awaken the same way. Despite the
discomfort, satisfaction dominated her feelings. Gavin lay
sprawled beneath her bonelessly. Her cheek rested on his
broad chest. Her arm was draped over his waist and she'd
curled a leg around the leg nearest her. Kyle lay on his side,
curled over her, his chest pressed to her back, his groin snug
against her buttocks, one heavy arm draped across her waist.

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It felt beyond decadent to lie between them.
Probably, she thought wryly, because it was.
And yet she didn't feel even a twinge of guilt about it

because it felt ... right somehow.

That thought produced the flicker of doubt that had been

missing before. It wasn't an implication that she could get
used to it because she liked it. It was an indication that she
was used to it and since she had no reason to be ... bad
vibes.

A hand, Kyle's or Gavin's she wasn't sure, settled lightly on

her shoulder and stroked downward before tracing a return
path.

"You are ... pleased?"
The rumbling voice belonged to Gavin. She would've

known it even if her cheek hadn't been pressed against his
chest so that she could feel the vibrations as well as hear
them. She considered whether she wanted to answer or not.
"Mmmm," she finally murmured, compromising between
offering praise and leavening it. "You?"

He tensed. His hand pausing.
There was no getting around the fact that he was both

surprised and confused by the question. "Yes," he finally
responded.

The answer was as tentative as his question had been,

filled with doubt. She wasn't certain what that implied but
managed a faint smile. "You're not sure?"

"I am certain," Kyle murmured against her hair, his voice

dreamy enough she had no doubt that he was.

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Gavin's hand disappeared from her arm and she felt a jolt

as his fist connected with the back of Kyle's head.

Surprise rippled through her and then both amusement

and irritation.

"Why did you do that?" Kyle demanded indignantly.
Wondering the same thing, Zoe lifted her head to look up

at Gavin as Kyle pulled away, but discovered she couldn't tell
much about his shadowy expression beyond the fact that he
was looking at Kyle and his jaw was set in a hard line.

He seemed to wrestle with a response. "Our objective was

to pleasure you," he said finally, responding to the question in
her eyes rather than the question Kyle had voiced—or maybe
it was actually a response to hers and a reprimand to Kyle?

Zoe stared at his face. "Why?" she asked bluntly.
He seemed disconcerted. It took him a few moments to

find the answer he was obviously searching a little
desperately for. "If you enjoy our fucking you will be more
agreeable to our company."

"You think?" she asked with rising indignation.
"This is not true?" he asked, obviously both dismayed by

the possibility and confused.

Zoe shrugged. "Not necessarily true. You don't have to

particularly like someone, or enjoy their company outside the
bedroom to enjoy fucking them. You're objective wasn't to
enjoy yourselves?"

He stared at her blankly for a moment, but she thought it

was more because he was ruminating over the first part of
her speech than the question.

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"No," he said finally. "It could not be an objective when it

was not anticipated."

Zoe shoved away from him and sat up. "You didn't expect

to enjoy fucking me?" she demanded indignantly.

Gavin sat up, as well, exchanging an uneasy look with

Kyle. "There was nothing in the sims to suggest it," he
responded uncomfortably.

Zoe blinked at him. "The sims?"
"The programming. Pleasure droids are designed to give

pleasure. They can not feel it."

It was Zoe's turn to be disconcerted. It deflated her anger

instantly. "But you aren't a pleasure droid."

"I was not assigned that task, but I was fully

programmed."

He sounded a little defensive.
Zoe frowned. She wasn't particularly happy about the

terminology he'd chosen. She was a 'task'? "I wasn't implying
that you didn't know how." Boy did he know how! And Kyle,
and Damien, and Kameron. They hadn't been short changed
in any way! Or rather, the recipient—her—hadn't been. It
mollified her, some, when she realized that he hadn't
expected to enjoy it at all and that it wasn't, exactly, a
reflection of what he thought about her.

It was still deflating!
"I still don't understand why you wanted to do it if you

didn't expect to get anything out of it," she muttered.

Gavin and Kyle exchanged another look. Kyle nudged

Gavin as if prompting him. "There was no expectation," Gavin
insisted, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Only the

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thought that enjoyment would make you inclined to think you
might want more enjoyment."

Zoe frowned. "Alright, I'll buy that. That still doesn't

explain your motives to me. Why would you care whether I
did or not if you weren't enjoying it?"

She could see he wasn't happy about the direction the

conversation had taken and was struggling for some way to
redirect it. Maybe she was guessing, but she didn't think so.
She thought she'd been direct enough in her questioning that
he couldn't be confused, which meant he wasn't answering
because he didn't want to.

"I did not say I had not enjoyed it, only that I had not

expected to."

Talking to them, she thought wryly, was like trying to

carry on a conversation with a damned lawyer—everything
very carefully worded to go no where and give out no actual
information.

Either she'd been wrong all the time and they hadn't had

an objective in obtaining an agreement with her, or they'd
changed their minds, or Gavin thought the timing wasn't the
best.

It was and it wasn't.
She certainly didn't feel any more inclined to agree to any

kind of commitment than she had from the time she'd first
overheard, or thought she had. On the other hand, giving her
something would have been nice—like, we're not just
interested in fucking. We want a relationship.

She supposed 'relationship' was too much to ask. She

didn't think they'd reached a point in their understanding of

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emotional ties to actually grasp what they were doing. She
suspected that they were just mimicking the behavior that
they thought of as 'normal'. It was seriously deflating to think
they were so avid for a contract only because it was 'the thing
to do'.

Not that she knew for certain that they were.
It bothered her that she wanted to know when she knew

damned well she didn't want to contract—not with anyone
and she definitely wasn't keen on the idea of contracting with
cyborgs and living in a little cyborg cottage with or without
picket fence in cyborg land.

It goes to motives, she assured herself. It was easier to

figure out what people would do when you knew what they
wanted and what made them tick and it was always a
damned good idea to know these things when there was a
better than even chance you were sitting on the opposite side
of the fence from them.

She realized, abruptly, that she was glad, though, that she

hadn't been able to push him in to telling her. What had she
been thinking to dig? This wasn't a matter of uncovering
information on a case! It was personal and no matter how
involved, or how detached, they might be, it was only going
to make things more complicated and more uncomfortable if
they asked and she said no.

"Well," she responded finally, completely unable to prevent

a twinge of resentment from entering her voice. "At least we
established that and I don't have to feel like an abysmal
failure as a woman! If you don't mind, though, it's a little
crowded and I'd like to sleep now."

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"You are angry?" Kyle asked uneasily.
They were so damned perceptive! "Why the fuck would

you think that?"

Kyle and Gavin exchanged an uncomfortable look.
Zoe felt like a bitch. "Never mind. I'm just tired, ok? And,

honestly? I don't like to talk before, during, or after sex—
good, bad, or indifferent—especially if it's good. It just sort of
ruins the glow—or it can and I prefer not to risk it."

They took the rather broad hint and got up to leave. She

sprawled more comfortably on the space she now had all to
herself, ignoring them until they finally made use of the
facilities and left the cabin. A little surprised but relieved that
they'd left, she went to clean up herself, located her suit and
put it on, and then climbed back into the bed.

The warm fuzzy feeling she'd woke up with was gone—big

surprise.

She couldn't quite figure them out and she thought that

was what bothered her. They never made any pretense—none
of them—that what they were doing was 'just' sex. The fact
that they seemed to want to cuddle afterward was almost a
direct contradiction to that, though. It wasn't that she'd never
had a lover that liked to cuddle afterwards. Mostly they didn't,
but every once in a while she would run across a guy that
actually did. She suspected that it was mostly in the nature of
a possessive sense of satisfaction with an object that had
given them pleasure—sort of like a guy beaming with
pleasure at the engine of his new vehicle or running his hands
lovingly over the real leather seats.

Maybe that was what it was with them, too?

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She was a sap, though. She wanted to think they did it

because it was an unconscious need in them. They couldn't,
ever, have experienced being held in loving arms. They hadn't
had a childhood, or a mother to do such a thing. It seemed
obvious from the things they'd told her that they hadn't
experienced it in their 'adult' lives either.

Maybe men, being so manly, didn't actually need to be

held?

She didn't really believe that. She didn't think it was just

women and children who felt that kind of need. Maybe they
didn't need it as much and maybe they were uncomfortable
about it, and maybe they mostly thought 'sex' when they did
get it, but it was comfort thing. And to men, she thought sex
was the comfort, the ultimate. That didn't change the fact
that it was a yearning, only the need behind it. To women and
children it was reassurance, communicating a sense of safety.
To men it was the reassurance that their pussy was close by.

She burrowed her face against the bed linens as the urge

to chuckle hit her.

They sure as hell wouldn't understand if they heard her

giggling like an idiot.

It surprised her to realize she was worried about wounding

their ego or hurting their feelings. Was she attributing them
with more feelings than they actually possessed, she
wondered?

She decided she wasn't. They might have a hard time

expressing their feelings, or voicing them, but that didn't
mean they didn't feel anything. She knew better. Damien had
looked so stepped on when she'd ignored him after their night

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together, and confused, that she'd felt like hell. What could
she say, though? Any kind of apology was going to sound like
encouragement to try again and that would only make things
worse.

As fabulous as they were as lovers, they couldn't just be

lovers. She had a very bad feeling that she couldn't remain
objective if she allowed it—knew she couldn't when it
bothered her so much that they thought of it as 'just a fuck'—
and she thought they would expect more, too.

They seemed to have some idea that if she really enjoyed

it she would consider taking them on full time.

She might at that, which was one of the things that

worried her.

"It isn't going to work, Zoe!" she muttered to herself.

"Stop undermining yourself!" Sure they were sweet, and
hopelessly bungling when it came to trying to sweeten her
up—which she thought was endearing because she was an
idiot! But it was as dangerous to 'play' with them as it would
be to decide to treat a mountain lion like a cute little kitty.

She should be focusing on rescuing her sister, or at least

discovering that Bronte was well and happy and satisfied with
her life, and getting the hell home where she belonged!
Nothing good was going to come of her unhealthy fascination
with rogue cyborgs turned sentient beings, be they ever so
amazing in bed and dazzling to look at!

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eighteen

If Kameron had had mixed feelings about Gavin and Kyle's

plans before they had executed the foray that was as nothing
to the way he felt afterward. He could not tell anything about
their expressions or attitude to give him any comfort and they
were disinclined to elaborate beyond saying they had
completed their mission. He also could not tell how Zoe had
perceived it.

What was worse, he did not think there was anything

rational about his feelings. He was both relieved that it did
not seem to be a huge success and angry that it had not
been.

The contradiction worried him but not nearly as much as

the fact that they seemed at stalemate.

He had determined that he would have a full report when

Gavin and Kyle joined them on repairs.

Truthfully, he had not really felt like pressing for answers

the night before. Beyond being tired from his bout with
Damien, he suspected his dinner had not set well, for he had
felt distinctly ill when he and Damien had a finally returned to
the ship and he had seen that Gavin and Kyle were just
leaving the sleeping quarters. It had completely
overshadowed his satisfaction in being told that they had
engaged and had completed the sortie. Torn between a
completely irrational desire to pound both of them with his
fists until he was tired and the uncomfortable churning in his

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stomach, he had been more than glad to bathe and take his
turn on the bunk.

Not sleep. He had not been able to do much of that, not

when the quarters reeked of sex and he could not get the
images out of his mind of Gavin and Kyle with Zoe.

From the look of him, Damien had not fared much better.
They had been working on the ship repairs since sunrise

when Gavin and Kyle had finally joined them from their stint
at guard duty.

Kameron immediately set aside his tools and joined them.

"Well?" he growled.

Kyle and Gavin exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

Gavin's face was troubled when he faced Kameron again and
he felt the oddest floating sensation in his belly.

"I have been giving it a great deal of thought and I am

certain that we have underestimated Zoe's sense of hearing."

Kameron stared at him blankly since it was the last thing

he had expected to hear. "What do you mean by that?" he
demanded, wondering what the hell it had to do with the
report he had been expecting.

"I am as certain as I can be with no supporting evidence

beyond my interpretation of the situation that she was
expecting us."

Kameron frowned. "You said you had successfully

completed the mission," he said in dawning anger. "You are
saying now that you did not?"

"It is not that," Kyle said quickly. "What Gavin is saying is

that we believe that she allowed it, not that we were
successful in catching her off guard."

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That was almost worse. No, it was worse, Kameron

thought, growing angrier by the moment. He realized after a
moment that he was not supposed to be angry about it,
though.

"She let you!" Damien demanded indignantly, making no

attempt to conceal the fact that he was angry about it. "You
did not ask? Did not coax her?"

Gavin glared at him. "We had said we would not do that

since Kameron had advised against it. We followed the plan,
but I am certain she was not asleep when we joined her, nor
had she just awakened. She was very tense. I did not realize
it at first, for she was very still, but I do not believe for a
moment that she was caught off guard."

Kameron glared at Damien. "I do not see what you have to

be angry about!" he snarled. "She pleasured you!" He had
reason to be furious. Not only had she not pleasured him as
she had Damien, but she also had not yielded willingly as she
had with Gavin and Kyle. It seemed to him that he had been
singled out to be snubbed.

Gavin's lips tightened. "You have missed the point

entirely!"

"Exactly what is your point, then, beyond gloating?"

Kameron growled.

Gavin looked taken aback. "She heard. She must have

heard—through the door and we were not speaking loudly. I
do not know about you, but I had assumed, since she can not
see nearly as well as we can that she could not hear as well
either."

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Kameron stared at him in horror, feeling coldness wash

over him as he tried to recall discussions they had had while
they believed that Zoe was safely tucked behind the door in
the sleeping quarters and unable to hear them.

"Mayhap you were speaking louder when you were ironing

out the details?" he suggested hopefully.

Gavin thought that over. "I will not dispute it, for we were

deeply in argument, but I heard when the shower stopped. I
do not believe I would have if we had been speaking very
loudly." He hesitated. "What concerns me is that we discussed
our original plan while she was in the cabin. I had not thought
much of it at the time, but even then I thought she was
behaving oddly. I thought it was only that we were strangers
to her and, of course, I did not know her myself to know what
behavior would be typical, but it did strike me, and so I
recalled it instantly when I began to think she must have
heard us last eve." He shrugged. "In truth, her behavior last
eve was much the same. It was as if she was trying hard to
pretend she had not, rather than she actually had not."

This time Kameron could not put the vague sense of

nausea down to food that had not sit right with him. He had
not eaten at all. Clearly it was a reaction to the turmoil he
found himself in and very likely the other had been, too.

The woman was affecting him in a way he did not at all

care for.

"Do we assume that she knows all, then?" he wondered

aloud. "And, if so, how do we interpret her behavior since?"

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Gavin, Kyle, and Damien exchanged uncomfortable

glances. He had a feeling that they were thinking much the
same as he was.

Clearly, the thought had not thrilled her. He would like to

think that the fact that she had become so distant could be
attributed to something else, but he could not think of
anything else to blame it on. "It is a very good thing we
decided not to take the direct approach and ask her straight
out," he muttered irritably.

"What do we do now?" Kyle asked uneasily.
Damien was frowning thoughtfully. "I do not think it is a

lost cause. She has changed her mind before."

He glanced uncomfortably at the other men as it dawned

on him that they might pursue that line of thought and ask
how he knew, but he saw that Gavin and Kyle were looking at
one another with faces so carefully blank and eyes so full of
guilt there was no doubt that they had experienced a similar
situation and Kameron was glaring at the ground, absently
massaging his balls with one hand and rubbing his belly with
the other, as if he had not heard the comment.

"If this was a military operation and we had found

ourselves on open ground under fire...."

"Well it is not!" Gavin snapped in response to Kameron's

musings. "We can not lay down a suppressing fire and
retreat!"

Kameron glared at him. "I know that! I was considering if

there might be a parallel somewhere that might be of use!"

Gavin's lips tightened but his scowl shifted into a

thoughtful look and he subsided to consider the possibilities.

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"Are we to assume the operation last night was not a

complete success?" Kameron asked presently.

This time although Kyle glanced quickly at Gavin, Gavin

was careful to avoid the guilty gesture. "I can not think so,
no, but it was certainly not a failure. She came four times and
I am certain that she was pleased about that, at least."

Fury contorted Kameron's features for a moment but then

a thought apparently occurred to him and his anger subsided
somewhat. "That it is only two each," he muttered to himself.
"So no more or less than Damien and I. She did not seem
angry afterward?"

"She...."
Gavin elbowed Kyle in the ribs, knocking the breath from

him. "She was somewhat testy, but then she was sleepy so
that would account for that. I am thinking neutral would more
nearly describe her disposition when we left."

Kameron studied him suspiciously. "You said that she was

not asleep. If you did not waken her, weariness would not
account for temper."

"Afterward, she dozed," Gavin clarified, "and then she

awoke and I could not tell if she was pleased or not so I
asked, which I know now was the wrong thing to do. She
asked what our motives were for fucking her. I did not think
telling her the truth would be a very good idea, and she knew
I was being evasive and she did not like that. Finally, she
merely told us to go away and let her sleep."

"Our motives?" Kameron demanded angrily. "What did she

mean by that? I do not understand this woman at all! First
she is talking about meaningless sex and now she wants to

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discuss motives? She is a beautiful woman. We are men.
There is no motive to fuck her beyond wanting to! Does she
know nothing about men?"

Gavin shrugged uncomfortably. "It is because we are not

men, I think, but cyborgs."

"It is because you told her we had not anticipated enjoying

it," Kyle cut in, earning himself a glare. "I do not think she
would have questioned our motives if he had not said that."

"You told her that!" Kameron demanded angrily. "Why

would you tell her that? It is no wonder she thought there
must be another motive!"

"She was growing agitated!" Gavin said defensively. "I did

not see how I could tell her anything else without revealing
the entire plan! In any case, my thinking processes were
sluggish. They had overheated during the course of fucking
her and still were not functioning very well. I could not think
clearly at all and she did not give me time to choose my
answers more carefully!"

"You are certain that is not why you got the impression

that she had overheard?"

"I am certain that is why I got that impression!" Gavin

retorted.

"Well, mayhap that is because you gave away the plan and

not that she overheard!"

"She knew already or she would not have asked such

pointed questions!" Gavin growled.

They were almost nose to nose by that time and Kyle and

Damien stepped away to make certain that they were not in
the line of fire if Gavin and Kameron came to blows. They had

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just seized one another by the throat with one hand, drawing
the other back and balling it into a fist, when Zoe called out,
distracting them.

"I made lunch."
All four turned to stare at her in surprise. After studying

them questioningly for a moment, she turned in the portal
and disappeared inside the ship again. Gavin and Kameron
exchanged a questioning look and finally released one
another.

"What do you make of that?" Kyle asked uneasily after all

four had stood for some minutes staring at the opening at the
top of the gangplank.

Kameron was frowning in puzzlement but finally shrugged.

"You and Gavin check the perimeter before you come in."

Zoe, Kameron discovered when he reached the main cabin,

was leaning against the counter, staring into space, her arms
folded—her stance completely relaxed, if absent—making a
sound in her throat that he finally identified as humming.
Exchanging a curious glance with Damien, who merely
shrugged, the two made their way to the facilities to clean up.

She looked surprised when they settled at the table and

Kameron was more puzzled. She had called them. Why would
she be surprised? He was not left to wonder long.

"Where are Gavin and Kyle?"
Kameron frowned. "I sent them to check the perimeter."
Zoe frowned back at him, but it was obviously an

expression of displeasure not confusion as it had been with
him. "Why?"

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He felt his jaw go slack. "Because it is their turn," he

responded before it occurred to him that it was not her
business what orders he gave or why he gave them. The
realization that he had responded without considering that
before he spoke irritated the hell out of him.

"Oh."
She went back to humming.
Kameron exchanged a look with Damien, but he could see

Damien had no more idea why she was behaving so strangely
than he did. Trying to shrug off the sense that he was not
going to like it when he did figure it out, Kameron focused on
his food. He was half way through before he realized that Zoe
had not sit down to eat with them.

"You do not mean to eat?"
"I'm waiting for Gavin and Kyle," Zoe responded almost

cheerfully.

The puzzlement and the sense that something was 'wrong'

flickered through him again. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I just thought I would."
Why did she think she would? That was what he wanted to

know, but he decided not to ask. He had almost finished when
Kyle strode through the main cabin on his way to wash up.
Gavin followed more slowly, examining a blackened and
bloody gash on one arm from a phaser graze.

Zoe sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the tray of food

she was holding. Gavin froze in his tracks. Kameron, drawn
by the sharp inhalation of breath, glanced at Zoe, looked
down on the mess on the floor and back at Zoe's face. Seeing
she was staring at Gavin, he flicked a glance at Gavin. Before

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he could grasp what was going on, Zoe surged toward Gavin
and grasped his arm.

"God! You were hit? What happened?"
"I was shot," Gavin responded blankly.
"I can see that!" she snapped. "Come on. Let's get this

cleaned up so I can have a look at it."

Gavin followed as she tugged on his hand, leading him

toward the rearward cabin, but turned to look at Kameron
questioningly.

Kameron glared at the pair with a mixture of puzzlement

and dawning indignation. "She has seen it. I do not know why
she would think she might see it better once it is washed!"

"She is concerned about his wound?" Damien muttered in

an indignant growl that dragged Kameron's attention back to
him.

Kameron stared at him in disbelief. "Why would she be

concerned about his wound?" he demanded. "He has nanos!"

"Well it is obvious to me that that was a 'display of

concern'!" Damien snapped. "What else would she be
concerned about when that is what she spoke of?"

"It is his arm!" Kameron retorted. "It is not as if it was his

chest or his head! It was no more than a graze at that!"
Shoving to his feet, he stalked down the corridor and halted
in the door of the cabin.

Kyle, he saw, had come from the facilities but was merely

standing in the middle of the room, gaping at Gavin and Zoe,
who both sat on the bunk.

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"How did you manage to get yourself shot?" Zoe

demanded in an angry voice just as Kameron halted in the
doorway.

Outrage flickered over Gavin's face but he blanked his

expression when she looked up at him. "Sniper."

"The bastards!" Zoe exclaimed, shaking her head. "Thank

god it wasn't any worse! Does it hurt very bad?"

Gavin stared at her in fascination, slack jawed, but finally

nodded.

"Poor baby!" Zoe exclaimed.
A frown of indignation drew Gavin's brows together but

they shot upward in surprise when she rose from winding a
bandage around his arm and leaned down to kiss him lightly
on the lips. As fast as a lightning strike, Gavin grabbed her,
flipped her over onto the bunk flat of her back and sprawled
atop her.

"Gav...."
Gavin silenced her protest by fastening his mouth tightly to

hers and kissing her thoroughly. She pushed half heartedly at
his shoulders for a moment and finally wound her arms
around his neck.

Stymied, Kameron watched for several moments more and

finally turned to leave. Damien, he discovered, was directly
behind him. Shoving him out of the way, Kameron stalked
back down the corridor and through the main cabin. He
skidded when he stepped in the food Zoe had dropped on the
floor and left. Regaining his balance with an effort, he
slammed a fist into the wall.

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"Is that my lunch, I wonder," Kyle asked no one in

particular, "or Gavin's?"

Kameron glared at him. "Gavin's," he growled finally. "If

Gavin was hungry he would be here eating, not ... gnawing
on Zoe's face!" Scraping the mess from his boot, he stalked
outside, glared at the damaged ship for a moment and finally
sat down to sulk.

Damien joined him after a few moments. "It is the yellow

hair. I told you she would enjoy them more!"

Kameron slugged him in the jaw.
When Damien had picked himself up from the ground, he

glared at Kameron, massaging his jaw and trying to decide if
he was currently in the mood to spar. Deciding after a few
moments that he was, but not with Kameron, he moved to a
safer distance and settled again.

"I am certain I do not care for this business of courting!"

Kameron growled after a few moments. "It makes my balls
hurt, my cock will not stay down, and if that is not bad
enough, I am sick to my stomach half the time and so furious
the other half that I feel a great need to kill something!"

Damien stared at Kameron in surprise. "You, too? I

thought that there was something wrong with the food. I had
not worried about it overmuch because I am certain it could
not be poison, else Zoe would also be affected, and she has
not seemed to be." He fell silent for a few moments, thinking.
"I thought that there was something wrong with my balls, as
well. They did not hurt before I fucked Zoe. You think it is
that?"

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"How would I know?" Kameron snarled. "It does not seem

to me that I will get the chance again to find out if that is
what is causing it!"

"I think I will tell her it hurts," Damien said decisively after

a few minutes, "and ask her to fuck me again so that I can
determine if that is what is causing it."

Kameron eyed him broodingly. "It is my turn!" he snarled.
"Then you ask her!" Damien said indignantly. "I do not see

why I must wait if you are not going to do anything!"

Kameron considered the suggestion somewhat doubtfully.

"Do you think that she would consider it in the same light as
Gavin's wound?"

"I do not see why not! It is pain if she is concerned about

pain! And his nanos will heal his arm. They have done nothing
for my balls!"

It sounded logical enough, but Kameron suspected,

regardless of what Damien thought, that she would not see it
in the same light at all. "We should go down and engage the
enemy," he said. "If they are sending snipers up the trees
now to pick us off, it would be a good strategic move, and it
would satisfy my need to kill something. And if we are
wounded, then she would be upset over that and kiss us as
she did Gavin."

Damien was willing enough—he felt the urge to kill

something himself—but he had some doubts about the
outcome. "If they blow our heads off, she would not be able
to patch that and there would be no point even if she did."

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"There was no point in her bandaging Gavin's arm!"

Kameron snapped. "It was not bleeding. The nanos had
already closed the veins!"

"I am only trying to point out that the same thing may not

work twice!" Damien shot back at him. "It has not before!"

Kameron frowned. "We do not know that the same thing

will not work because we have not used the same tactics
twice!"

"Because you and I eliminated what did not work so that

Gavin and Kyle could try something that did!"

They stared at one another for a moment as that sank in.

"Sneak attack!" Kameron said abruptly, shooting to his feet
and beginning to pace thoughtfully. "I had not considered that
possibility before because it is underhanded and I do not care
for that. It seems obvious to me, now though, that if she is
caught off guard that she is not only more receptive but also
less likely to hold a grudge afterward, especially if she is
pleased with the outcome of being caught off guard!"

Damien frowned. "They did not actually catch her off

guard, though," he pointed out. "Gavin said he thought she
was awake and expecting them."

Kameron halted his pacing and stared at Damien hard for a

moment. Finally, he shook his head. "Either they were wrong
on that count or, somehow, she was surprised and did not
have time to decide on counter measures. I will try it!"

Damien nodded. "And, if that does not work for you, then I

will try something else."

"What?" Kameron demanded.
"I was reviewing the courting list," Damien retorted.

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"That is no good! I thought we had already established

that that was useless—here!"

Damien glared at him. "I do not see that it is impossible

that I might find a token that would please her! There could
be something in the wreckage!"

"She has searched that herself for anything she wanted!"
"Not since she found the body—part! That is what I will do!

I will go through and make certain there are no more pieces
to distress her and then I will invite her to walk with me to
see if she can find something that pleases her!"

Kameron sent him a look of disgust. "I have already tossed

the remains over the cliff. There was only the one fool—who
was probably left to guard the ships and decided to ignore
orders and go inside to sleep instead!"

"Then I will assure her it is gone!" Damien said stubbornly.
"Suit yourself," Kameron muttered. "It is time to walk the

perimeter. Watch for snipers."

The sound of phaser fire caught Kameron's attention when

he was no more than halfway through his rounds. Drawn by
it, he turned to discover that Damien was standing on the
edge of the cliff, his hands on his hips. Several more blasts
struck the plateau around him as Kameron stared at Damien
in stupefaction. Abruptly, he burst into a run and raced across
the plateau, pulling his pistol as he ran.

A shot caught him in the upper thigh as he reached the

scene, nearly making his knee buckle, but he managed to
shoot the sniper out of the tree.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" he snarled.

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"It is just as well you shot the stupid bastard!" Damien

retorted. "He could not aim worth a fuck!"

"He nearly shot my balls off!" Kameron bellowed.
"But he was not aiming at you!" He looked Kameron's

wound over critically. "I do not think she will be impressed
with that, but I will tell you now I think it is damned low of
you to take my shot!"

Shoving his pistol into his holster, Kameron punched

Damien in the belly. Damien doubled over from the blow but
used it to his advantage by head-butting Kameron in the
belly. Within a few moments, they were on the ground, rolling
over and over, slinging their fists at one another.

"Damn it!" Zoe bellowed from close by, distracting both

men. "Must you brawl right on the edge of the cliff! You're
going to give me a nervous breakdown!"

Freezing, both Kameron and Damien whipped their heads

around to discover Zoe was standing not ten feet away,
glaring at them, her hands on her hips. As they stared at her,
dumbfounded, she whirled on her heel and stalked back
toward the ship.

After watching her until she had stomped up the ramp and

disappeared, Kameron and Damien exchanged a questioning
look and finally got up. Kameron glared at Damien once more
for good measure and finally limped off to finish his survey.

Kyle and Gavin were working on the ship when they

returned. Kyle was glaring sulkily at the bolt he was trying to
remove. Gavin, a faint smile playing on his lips, finished
tightening the bolt he had been working on and stepped back
to admire his work.

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Fuming, Kameron stalked up to him and belted him in the

mouth. Gavin staggered back a step, felt his lip, and glared at
Kameron. "What was that for?" he demanded.

"Smiling," Kameron snarled.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Nineteen

"What happened to your leg?"
Kameron halted at the door to the facilities and swiveled

around to look at Zoe, who was propped up on the bunk with
a book she had found amongst the wreckage, eyeing her
speculatively for several moments. He discovered that he was
not only still angry with her over the way she had behaved
toward Gavin, but embarrassed that she might think he had
deliberately gotten wounded, as Damien had tried to do, to
gain her attention. If she was only interested when he had
holes in him, she was bound to have more opportunities!

"It is nothing the nanos cannot repair," he growled

pointedly and continued into the facilities to bathe.

She followed him.
He had braced his arms against the wall and ducked

beneath the hot spray, allowing the water to pound against
his tense shoulders for some time before he straightened,
slinging his hair from his face and discovered her watching
him. Surprise flickered through him.

"It doesn't hurt?"
He studied her for a long moment, wondering what she

thought she could do to make it not hurt. "It always hurts,"
he said harshly. "I am used to it."

Something flickered in her eyes. He was not certain what—

pain he thought, but then it was gone and he was not certain.
Mentally, he examined what he had said, but he could not

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think of anything about it that would have either hurt or
angered her.

Not that he ever had before! He could not seem to open

his mouth without doing one or the other or both.

She surprised him again by moving closer instead of

leaving as he had expected.

"How can you get used to pain?"
He frowned, as confused by her behavior as he was the

question. Reaching for the soap, he filled his hand with the
foam and began to scrub himself absently. "I am used to
feeling it," he said finally. "I close my mind to it and focus my
thoughts elsewhere."

Like on her.
She studied him for a long moment and reached up to

catch the opening of her suit, pulling it apart and shrugging
out of it. He watched, mesmerized, completely forgetting that
he had been in the process of bathing himself and had done
no more than lather his torso. The spray hit her as she
stepped inside, bouncing off of her and spattering against him
so that the soap began to cascade down his frame in thin,
bubbly rivulets. He blinked when a few drops splashed onto
his face. When he opened his eyes, she had slipped down to
her knees.

He flinched instinctively when she touched a hand lightly to

his thigh and ground his teeth when the tensing of the muscle
momentarily increased the pain. He scarcely noticed that
pain, however, beyond a slight burn, because the moment
she leaned toward him to trace her lips lightly along the path
her hand had taken, his cock, already uncomfortably hard,

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stood straight up against his belly and his balls tightened until
they felt as if they had popped into his throat to choke him.
He was a little surprised the tightening of his skin did not curl
his toes upward.

She lifted her head to look up at him when she had

reached the top of his thigh. Holding his gaze, she reached for
his cock, curling her fingers around it. He ground his teeth at
the excruciating pleasure/pain that went through him as she
slid her hand down his shaft slowly and then up again. "What
are you doing?" he asked in a strangled voice, hardly even
aware he'd spoken.

She smiled faintly. "Giving you something else to focus

on."

His knees almost buckled when she opened her mouth and

closed it over the head of his cock. He squeezed his eyes
closed, afraid for a moment he might black out and then
afraid he would not. The mixture of pleasure and pain
intensified as she sucked on it until he was not certain from
one slamming heart beat to the next whether he could bear it
or not. He stopped worrying about it after a moment because
he lost the capacity for thought altogether.

He was not certain what felt better, the heat and suction of

her mouth or the stroke of her hand, but the longer she did it
the less aware he was of anything else. He endured the
rapturous agony until he realized he could not bear it any
longer without exploding. Reaching down to her, he grabbed
her upper arms and snatched her straight upward until he
could fasten his mouth to her beautiful mouth.

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She made a sound as he covered her mouth and thrust his

tongue inside with feverish need, but he was so lost in the
taste of her he scarcely registered it. She hooked her legs
around his waist to hold herself, gripping his shoulders with
her hands. He was not certain if it was an invitation or not,
but the moment his mind registered the fact that she had
opened her body to him, his focus shifted to his cock and so
did his hands. Sliding one hand beneath her buttocks as she
slipped, he grasped his cock with the other and searched a
little frantically along her wet cleft for the opening he wanted
and crammed the head inside.

He almost came then. It was only sheer determination to

embed himself deeply inside that gave him the strength to
hold himself in check. Breaking from her lips, he sucked in a
desperate breath, gripped her tightly, and heaved mightily,
plowing more deeply through the heavenly, molten heat of
her channel. The drive was tortuous. He thought his balls
might explode, or mayhap his heart. He ground his teeth
against the excruciating sensations, wondering vaguely if he
would churn them to powder. He stopped pushing when he
felt his groin grinding against the lips of her sex.

Pausing to gulp in a couple of breaths of air to keep from

passing out, he shifted his grip on her and bounced her up
and down his shaft a few times before he decided he needed
leverage before he broke his cock.

She made strange choking noises as he braced her against

the shower wall and began to pound into her in earnest. He
planted his mouth over hers and breathed gustily, probing her

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with his tongue and his cock simultaneously. She curled her
arms more tightly around his neck and sucked his tongue.

The moment she did, he lost what little control he had

managed to hold on to. The first convulsion hit him hard
enough to knock the breath out of him in a hoarse grunt.
Ecstasy spiraled through him as he felt a hot fountain of come
shoot from his cock. Groaning, he pumped into her in time to
the spasms until they grew weaker and weaker and finally
ceased so that he could drag his mouth from hers and fill his
lungs with air. The darkness that had engulfed him receded
slightly. Every muscle in his body felt as if it had lost tone and
strength, however, and it took more of an effort to hold onto
her and keep his feet than he would have thought possible.

As awareness slowly returned, uneasiness followed.
She was perfectly limp in his arms.
Struggling against a sense of impending doom, he shifted

her weight to one arm and felt her throat for a pulse.

She chuckled. Lifting her head, she smiled at him.
Kameron felt the strangest sensation flow through him as

he stared at her smiling face. His heart almost seemed to
float upward from his chest to lodge itself in his throat. He
swallowed with an effort. "You are so beautiful," he said
hoarsely.

Her smile wavered. Confusion flickered across her

features. Blood flushed her face until it was almost as red as
her hair. "I imagine I look like a drowned rat."

He frowned. "You look nothing like a rat."
She bit her lip.

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He watched the movement with fascination, enjoying the

gleam of amusement in her eyes even though he knew she
was trying not to laugh because he had somehow
misunderstood what she meant, until she ducked her head
and hid her face against his throat. He hesitated and finally
cupped one hand against the back of her head, holding her
there for a moment because he liked the way it felt. With
reluctance, he disengaged their bodies and allowed her to
slide to her feet when he felt her tense to pull away.

He watched her bathe, straining against the urge to pull

her close to him again to feel her warmth, the way she fit
against him. The hard knot in his throat was slow to ease as
he struggled for something to say to make her smile again or
just to look at him the way she had a few moments before. In
the end, he said nothing, realizing that he would rather not
risk saying the wrong thing.

It was not until she had gone and he had finally turned his

attention to finishing his bath that it dawned on him that he
had no fucking clue of whether he had pleased her or not.

* * * *

As pleased as she was with herself, Zoe was so exhausted

from the explosive climax she'd enjoyed it took focus to make
it to her bunk and collapse on it. She stretched like a lazy cat
once she'd settled in her bed, enjoying the delicious sense of
well-being in the aftermath of fabulous sex that was like
nothing else.

She didn't know why she'd been fighting it so hard, she

thought sleepily. Obviously, they enjoyed pounding on one

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another, or at least considered that the most desirable way to
settle their disputes, and it had nothing to do with her at all.
She couldn't see that having sex with them was going to
make them more inclined to fight—probably not less—but not
more since it didn't seem to be tied to her at all.

If they wanted to fuck, and she did, what was the point in

all of them being cranky and dissatisfied—besides being bored
to death stuck on this rock light years from no where? None
of them were contracted and she wasn't, so who would it
hurt? Especially since they were so insistent that it was just
fucking?

It pricked at her that it might give them the wrong

impression—that she might be willing to contract with them—
but not one of them had even hinted at contracting. Maybe
they'd only said contacting with her? That was a strange way
to talk about sex, but they had a strange way about them
period.

It worried her more than she was growing fond of them,

but there didn't seem to be anything she could do to change
that. Despite their mercurial dispositions around one another,
they never lost their temper with her. They were always so
polite and well mannered, so thorough and thoughtful as
lovers, and careful and protective of her—even though that
irritated her a little, it was actually kind of nice to have
someone—several someones—who seemed to worry about
her.

They were sweet.
She'd have to have a heart of stone not to be fond of

them.

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It was stupid to see that as a threat just because it was

going to make it hard when she had to leave. It was done
now. It couldn't be undone unless they decided to start
behaving like jerks. She wasn't going to avoid being sad to
leave them by keeping her distance now.

Groaning, she rolled over and pulled her cover over her

head.

This was wrong, wrong, wrong!
She shouldn't have given in to temptation. It would've

been alright if it had only been a matter of 'just a fuck' to her,
but she knew it hadn't been. With the best will to blind herself
in the world, she knew damned well 'horniness' wasn't the
motivating factor. She hadn't just been needy. There was no
getting around the fact that she desired him, but god knew
she'd had plenty to satisfy the wildest libido.

She hadn't felt a driving need to scratch an itch, she'd just

wanted to—with Kameron.

If he'd expected sympathy for his pain, she thought she

could've resisted. It was the fact that hadn't that had
demolished her willpower. He'd looked so surprised at her
empathy she'd felt like crying. Nothing he could've done from
that point onward short of picking her up and tossing her out
could have stopped her.

* * * *

Damien demolished what little resistance Zoe had

managed to draw around herself after Kameron. For three
days she struggled to walk a tightrope between maintaining a
safe distance and friendliness without encouraging them to

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think they had only to look at her longingly, or with hunger,
and she was putty in their hands.

Three nights later the sound of repeated phaser fire woke

her. She sat up, listening, trying to hear over her racing
heartbeat. When she heard another rapid series of blasts, she
rolled from her mattress and rushed outside. This was a
battle of some kind, not random sniper fire.

Despite the darkness of a night lit by nothing more than

stars, she had no trouble finding the group along the edge of
the cliff. The blinding blasts of the phasers directed her to
them.

There were only three standing on the edge of the plateau,

however. Glancing around, she saw no sign of a fourth. She'd
been alone in the cabin. Her heart jerked to a halt, squeezing
painfully in her chest.

She had to force herself to move at first but in moments

she was running. One of them, no doubt hearing the slap of
her running feet, glanced toward her. Dark hair. She couldn't
discern his features, but she had no trouble spotting the two
with fair hair next to him.

Kameron? Damien? Something had happened to one of

them, must have. The urge to burst into tears washed over
her. She fought it down, chastising herself for imagining the
worst when she had no idea what had happened.

As she neared the group, she saw them step back from the

edge. Two of them crouched down and she saw with an
almost painful sense of relief that they were helping someone
over the edge.

"What happened?" she gasped out as she neared them.

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"Stay back! They are still firing!"
She skittered to a halt, responding to the command in

Kameron's voice instinctively even though she hadn't
consciously registered what he'd said. The one who'd climbed
up the cliff—Damien, she knew now—got to his feet, swaying
slightly.

Gavin grasped his arm, hauled it across his shoulders,

slipped his own arm around Damien's waist, and started to
walk toward her.

Zoe felt as if the ground had opened out from under her.
Gavin wouldn't be helping him walk if he wasn't hurt badly.
Struggling with her emotions, she followed them, feeling

helpless, fighting the sense of hopelessness that kept
threatening to overwhelm her. Only dimly aware that Kyle
and Kameron had fallen into step behind them, she was
nevertheless unnerved by that, certain it meant they knew far
more than her and that the news would be bad, very bad.

It heartened her a little to see that Damien managed to

carry most of his own weight, although it was equally obvious
that he wouldn't have been able to manage that much if
Gavin hadn't been steadying him and holding part of his
weight.

Kameron moved around her when they reached the

gangplank, grabbing Damien's other arm. The two of them
carried him inside, moving awkwardly down the narrow
corridor to the rearward cabin.

"Lights!" Zoe commanded as she entered the cabin,

blinded briefly as they flickered on. Unlike them, however,

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she couldn't see in the dark and she needed to see how badly
hurt Damien was.

She was almost sorry she'd asked for the light when she

saw Damien. The phasers tended to seal wounds as often as
not, depending on the intensity and distance of the laser blast
from the target. In Damien's case, it looked as if about half
had and half hadn't. There were at least four blackened,
charred wounds along his chest, back, arms, and legs, but
she couldn't tell from the blood how many open wounds there
were.

"Oh god!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth with her

hand.

Kameron glanced at her sharply.
"I'll get water—bandages...."
His lips tightened. "Go ... Wait in the main cabin."
"But ... I could help."
He shook his head. "We will have to cut away the charred

flesh or it will not heal as it should."

Zoe gaped at him in disbelief. "But he's already lost a lot of

blood!"

"He is a cyborg, Zoe! His nanos will prevent him from

losing too much blood."

She jumped at the harshness of his voice, staring at him in

dismay as his words slowly sank in. Abruptly, she turned and
left, in part because of his dismissal, in part because she
knew she couldn't help Damien except by getting out of the
way so that they could.

She dropped shakily onto one of the benches when she'd

reached the main cabin. Her nerves were stretched as taut as

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piano wire. She wanted, needed, to do something to expend
the nervous energy jangling through her, but she found she
was too weak kneed even to consider it. The urge to wail
hysterically came and went, nearly overwhelming her efforts
to control it for moments at the time and then receding as
she forced her mind to focus on the questions that flickered
through it.

Had he been shot and fallen over? He wouldn't have just

tripped and fallen. He wasn't clumsy. None of them were. For
all their size they were as nimble and agile as dancers.

A fight?
She struggled to remember if any of them had looked as if

they'd been brawling, but she discovered that the only images
that had stuck her mind were Damien's wounds and the grim
faces of the others—especially Kameron.

What did that mean?
Kameron had said he had nanos. She knew that. She'd

read it. That wasn't a fact that she had ever fully accepted,
though—because she didn't think of them as cyborgs, she
realized.

Could they save him? How much damage could they

repair? Or was it just time that created limitations for them?
If the damage was too severe for them to repair it in time to
preserve life, then it wouldn't matter what they else they
were capable of.

Cyborgs died. As invincible as Damien, Kameron, Gavin,

and Kyle seemed to her, they weren't. She knew that because
she'd read the stats on how many had died on Xeno-12 and

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how many the company had 'terminated' since they'd gone
rogue.

She got up and paced when she reached the point where

she felt like she would just start screaming if she didn't do
something. She was on the point of returning to the bench
when she heard their voices.

They hadn't been talking before. There hadn't been a

sound.

Were they talking to Damien? Questioning him about what

had happened?

She moved closer to the door, listening. Relief flooded her

when she heard Damien's voice. Without waiting for an
invitation, she opened the door and peered inside.

They stopped talking when she did, turning to look at her.

She couldn't tell anything about their expressions, but she
discovered when she finally nerved herself to look at the bunk
that Damien was watching her, as well.

A knot of relief that felt about the size of a basketball

formed in her throat.

She moved toward the bunk. "What happened?"
The four of them exchanged uncomfortable glances but

none of them said anything.

"Was it snipers?" she persisted, moving close enough to

the bunk to look down at Damien.

Kameron cleared his throat. "I sent him to scout the

enemy to determine their position and forces."

Anger pierced her shock. "You sent him?"
"It was not an order. I volunteered."

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Zoe dragged her gaze from Kameron's with an effort. "You

volunteered to go down there and let them use you for target
practice?"

He reddened. She could see she'd insulted him, but she

didn't care, damn it!

"I did not intend to be used for target practice. The snipers

had stopped. We needed to know what they planned next. I
went to discover it if I could."

"Why? They can't get up here. They can't see well enough

to risk making the climb at night and that would be the only
time they even had a chance of sneaking up on us!"

"We believe that, but we do not know that. We can not

merely sit here and hope that they can not find a way."

Zoe glanced at Kameron as he spoke and finally wilted

down until she was sitting on the side of the bunk. She saw
when she returned her attention to Damien that they'd either
bathed him off or he'd showered. He wasn't smeared liberally
with blood anymore.

She suspected the latter. His hair was wet.
They'd bandaged a couple of his wounds—one on his thigh

and another on his chest—she supposed to hold them closed.
There wasn't much bleeding—none from the other wounds
since he'd bathed, although he had a round dozen that were
an angry, raw red and surrounded by bruised flesh that made
it look as if he'd been pounded on with fists rather than hit
with phaser blasts.

His face was pale and drawn for all that, his eyelids heavy

with fatigue, a clear indication of pain and more blood loss
than was healthy even for him, she was sure.

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There was a greenish discoloration around his mouth. She

stared it, trying not to feel alarmed at what it might indicate.

"Why is your mouth ... uh...?" She glanced at Kameron.

"Why is his mouth...?

Kameron rolled his eyes, irritation and disgust evident in

his expression.

Frowning, she glanced at Damien again. Smiling a little

crookedly, he gathered up a fistful of weeds she hadn't
noticed before and held them out. "I had to carry them in my
teeth to climb."

Zoe felt her jaw go slack as she stared at the bedraggled,

broken, battered—bouquet of weeds he held in his hand. A
few tattered pink and white petals still clung to the stems.

Her throat closed.
She glanced from the bouquet to Damien's expectant face

and back again. By the time she returned her gaze to his
face, his smile had slipped.

He examined his offering through narrowed eyes. "It was

much prettier before," he said finally.

Zoe swallowed with an effort. "Before you had to climb the

cliff with them in your teeth, dodging phaser blasts?" she
asked tightly, struggling with the urge to snatch the bouquet
from his hand and beat him with it until there was nothing
left.

The urge to burst into tears descended over her again. She

swallowed convulsively against the painful knot and took the
bouquet even as he began to lower it to the bed again. She
cleared throat. "Did you gather them before or after you
sneaked into an encampment full of enemy soldiers?"

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He eyed her uneasily. "I passed them along the way there.

I gathered them as I ran through on the way back."

Zoe clapped a hand to her mouth at the image he'd put in

her mind but it was too late to stifle the sound that burst from
her lips—half cry, half laugh of pure disbelief—all hysteria.
"Oh god, Damien! What were you thinking!"

"You do not like them?"
Zoe sniffed and finally gave up the effort to control her

emotions. "I love them," she wailed. "Don't ever, ever do
anything like that again!" Dropping the bouquet in her lap,
she covered her face with both hands and wept loud and
hard. When she finally managed to get control of her
emotions, she discovered she'd cleared the room of everyone
except Damien, who was trapped.

Sniffing, she got up and went into the facilities to blow her

nose and wash her face. There was nothing to put her
'flowers' in, which made her cry all over again, but she
dampened the ends of the stems and set them carefully in the
lavatory, deciding she would find something to hold the
bouquet when it was daylight and she could see. She still felt
mildly weepy when she left the chamber, but far more in
control than before.

Damien eyed her warily from the bed. She suspected he

was hurt worse than he looked at the moment or he would've
crawled out the door to escape as the others had. Dragging in
a shaky breath, she moved to the bunk and climbed into it
carefully, settling full length beside him.

She wanted to gather him into her arms and hug him

tightly to her to reassure herself that he would be alright, but

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she was afraid she would just cause him more pain. Finally,
she contented herself with merely slipping one arm beneath
his head and holding his head close to her chest.

He studied her with a mixture of hopefulness she had no

trouble interpreting and uneasiness as she lifted a hand to
stroke his cheek. "Don't even think about it," she said
warningly. "I'm only here to cuddle. If you don't behave
yourself, I'm moving back to my bed."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twenty

A person could only lie to themselves so long, Zoe

reflected morosely as she half heartedly scavenged the
wreckage just to have something 'useful' to do. No matter
how much hardheaded determination they had, eventually
they found themselves staring face to face with the truth.

The guys weren't merely friends and they weren't just

lovers. She wasn't 'sort of' fond of them. She didn't find their
company tolerable and she didn't merely find them intriguing
because they were a strange sort of puzzle for her to unravel
and piece together.

She'd felt as if her whole world was crumbling around her

when they'd dragged Damien over the side of the plateau and
she'd seen he was shot to hell. She still felt more shaken than
she could ever remember being because she'd been forced to
face the indisputable fact that they weren't indestructible,
maybe damned close, but when it came right down to the
wire they were as mortal she was.

It was disturbing how scary that was.
She hadn't thought about 'losing' any one of them. She'd

thought about leaving them. She'd thought about how much
she was going to miss them when she had to go home.

She'd thought it best not to get too attached because,

eventually, they were going to go their separate ways.

It was some comfort that they recovered quickly. Damien

had recovered sufficiently by morning to begin rooting his
face against her breasts in a demand that she'd ignored all of

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five minutes, she thought with a mixture of fond amusement
and irritation. She'd made him lie still while she did the
honors, which she was sure was better for his healing
wounds—maybe not for her.

She'd watched him as she rode him, stared into his

slumberous eyes, gleaming with heated passion, seen the
pleasure on his face as he moved closer and closer to
release—watched his face when he came. She'd hardly been
detached, and yet the warmth that had flowed through her
hadn't been altogether desire either—part of it, but not all of
it—enough that her body had peaked in response to his when
he climaxed and yet separated enough to experience the act
in a way she never had before.

He'd been determined to get up and go about his tasks

afterward as if nothing had happened. He was moving stiffly
and slowly enough, though, that she knew he was still weak
and sore—not recovered, just bullheaded enough to get up
anyway.

Which was why she was outside trying to look busy. She

was determined to keep an eye on him. She didn't think any
of the others would pick a fight with him when he was so
weak and stiff he had to work hard to pretend to be perfectly
alright, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

They were pissed off with him. She wasn't sure it if was for

the same reason as she was—because he'd taken
unnecessary risks—or if it was because she'd been so upset
about it—still was—but there was no doubt in her mind, or
Damien's, that they were seriously perturbed with him. All
three of them had fixed him with fulminating glares when she

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and Damien had left the cabin to search for food. None of
them had spoken to him, or her for that matter, but the
tension had been palpable enough she'd stuck close to
Damien until she was sure she'd gotten her point across—that
they needn't even think about expressing their displeasure
with more than glares until he was well enough to defend
himself.

She gave up on trying to look busy after a while and

wandered back to the ship, finding a spot to sit and watch the
men work.

"Do you think you'll be able to get the engine working

again?" she asked after watching Gavin and Kyle for a while.

Gavin glanced at her, flicked a glare at Damien and

returned his attention to the engine. "Yes," he said finally. "It
is almost ready to test."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, studying the object in

question critically since it looked to her as if half of it was still
on the ground.

"A week," he responded and then glanced self-consciously

at Kameron and added, "More or less."

"What about the ship itself?" she asked Kameron when he

glanced at her.

"We will have it patched, as well," he responded almost

reluctantly. "Then we will start systems checks, take a test
flight to see that everything holds together."

"God, that's reassuring," she said wryly.
His eyes gleamed. A hint of a smile lightened his hard

mouth.

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Zoe felt a warm flutter in her belly. She smiled back at him

and his smile became more pronounced.

God the man was drop dead gorgeous when he smiled! He

didn't do it nearly often enough. Of course he was drop dead
gorgeous even when he didn't smile, but the smile—it was
like finding treasure, breathtakingly exciting.

She was the one who broke eye contact, feeling

unaccountably shy all of a sudden. "I think I might actually
miss this place—a little bit," she mumbled. "It's not home, but
it isn't a half bad place all things considered."

"Our home world is better—far better."
Zoe glanced at Gavin and smiled—mostly just because

looking at him made her want to smile. "Is it really? You're
not just a tiny bit prejudiced, are you?"

He looked disconcerted for a moment, then pretended to

think if over. "No."

She chuckled. "Tell me how it's better."
"The air does not make your lungs feel as if they are

caving in, for one," Kyle offered.

"We are on a mountain," she pointed out. "The altitude is

partly to blame for that."

"Yes, but it is too thick down in the jungle," Kameron

countered.

She grinned at him. "So the air on your world is perfect?"

she asked teasingly.

"Yes, perfect," he responded at once. "The temperature,

too—not too hot, not too cold."

"Ever? I mean, it has different seasons?"

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He frowned. "The seasons that I have been there it was

perfect," he amended.

Which meant he commonly missed entire seasons while on

sentry duty, she realized in dismay. How long were their
rotations? She wanted to ask, but he'd been very pointed
about not discussing anything of a military nature. "What's
the colony like?"

"Beautiful," Damien responded, entering the conservation.
Zoe eyed him doubtfully. She wasn't certain if his idea of

beautiful was the same as hers. "Describe 'beautiful'," she
prompted.

"There is perfect symmetry," Gavin broke in before

Damien could respond. "All of the streets laid out just so." He
used the edges of his hands to form perpendicular lines.

"That pleases the eye," Damien said, "but it is the

buildings that make it truly beautiful. Each is unique, and yet
there is harmony of color and design, for they have all been
constructed of the natural stone of the area so that the city is
also in harmony with nature—the same can be said of the
private domiciles."

"What does your domicile look like?"
"The barracks?" he echoed in surprise, frowning

thoughtfully so that he missed the look of dismay that
flickered across her face before she could prevent it. "It is
much like any barracks—very simple—very plain, but every
man has private quarters. It is not like before when we were
soldiers of the federation."

Zoe discovered when she looked up that Kameron was

studying her face. "There is land for any who petition for it.

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Those who have formed family units have taken advantage of
this and constructed grand domiciles for their families."

The expression on his face, more than the words, made

her breathless. She wavered, trying to decide whether she
wanted him to continue in that vein or change the subject.

And then it hit her abruptly that Bronte was a pediatrician.
Why else would the cyborgs want one if not for children?
"There are children?"
She hadn't meant to say it the way she had, with so much

disbelief. It was just so hard to grasp! Even though she'd long
since stopped thinking of them as machines, accepted that
they had, somehow, evolved beyond their beginnings, she
realized she hadn't thought of them as that real.

It only took one look at their faces to see that she had

royally fucked up.

"Your sister has three," Kameron responded in a carefully

neutral voice.

Three what? Her sister was human! They'd told her that

but it had gone right over her head because she hadn't
believed a word of it. In the back of her mind, she supposed
she had considered that even if there was any truth to it, the
cyborgs certainly weren't responsible.

"Cyborg off-spring," Gavin elaborated in a tight voice,

unable to keep the bitterness from his voice as Kameron had.

Zoe stared at him. They couldn't be cyborg, she knew. It

just wasn't possible. Maybe they wanted to think of them as
cyborg, but if they had had off-spring, it was human. They
were cyborg because they were part machine, had been

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created in a lab—grown and constructed by scientists and
other machines.

She resisted the urge to debate the matter with them, but

she discovered she might as well not have. They knew exactly
what was running through her mind. They'd read it in her
expression.

A silent communication passed between the four of them

and then one by one they returned to their tasks.

Zoe watched them miserably, trying to think of something

she could say to undo what she'd done. Nothing brilliant came
to mind. "I'm an aunt," she finally managed. It sounded lame
even to her ears. "I can hardly believe it."

Kameron sent her a look. "That is obvious."
She stared at him in dismay. "I don't suppose you know if

I have nieces or nephews—or maybe both?" she pursued
doggedly. "Not that I care whether it's boys or girls. I'm ...
I'm so thrilled!"

"You are just now thrilled? You were not thrilled when you

were first told?"

Despite the guilt she felt, or maybe partially because of it,

Zoe felt a reviving dose of anger. "I barely registered
anything I was told during that time!" she said. "One minute I
was in my ship, minding my own business and the next in
yours—watching my ship blown to hell and ... and a full scale
battle, and then crashing here! Maybe you think I should be
used to this sort of thing, being a cop. Maybe you think I
should just be able to take it all in stride, but I can't! I'm not
a homicide detective. I investigate burglaries and that sort of
thing!"

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Zoe frowned unhappily as he turned away, trying to think

of something else she could say in her defense when it
abruptly occurred to her that she hadn't been told Bronte had
had babies! They'd told her Bronte had contracted with
cyborgs.

"Wait just a damned minute!" she snapped. "You didn't tell

me Bronte had had a baby at all, let alone triplets! You said
she'd contracted with that Gideon guy and his squad. I'm sure
you didn't say anything about babies!"

"I did.... "Kameron broke off, considering it, she supposed,

at least at first. He lifted his head to scan the sky a full
minute before she heard what it was that had drawn his
attention.

He whipped his head around in a swift scan of the plateau.

"Fuck! There is no cover unless we go over the side!"
Grabbing Zoe so suddenly she was too stunned to react, he
slung her across his shoulder and burst into a run at almost
the same moment.

It knocked the breath out of her. She thought if she'd had

the chance to brace herself it might not have, but she didn't
get that opportunity. She was lightheaded and wobbly when
Kameron bent down and allowed her to slide to the ground
almost as abruptly as he'd seized her to begin with.

As disoriented as she was, she didn't need to ask what was

going on. She could hear the sound of the ships above them
without any difficulty now. Even if not for the grim faced
tension radiating from the men around her and the weapons
they now held with deadly intent, she would've been able to
guess they were in deep shit.

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They scanned the sky. She scanned the sky.
"You think it's more company mercs?"
Kameron sent her a look that said he obviously thought so

or he wouldn't have made a mad dash across the plateau for
cover. Ok, so she supposed it was a dumb question. "I was
just looking for confirmation," she said stiffly, hoping she was
wrong.

Dismay filled her as she looked at the Omega across the

way. They'd been within days of having it repaired. What
were the chances, she wondered, that it would still be in one
piece thirty minutes from now?

"It is ours!"
Zoe glanced sharply at Gavin when he spoke and then she

lifted her head to look at the fleet of ships above them. She
couldn't discern much more than a half dozen specks in the
sky and wondered if they actually could see that far or if
there was something notable about the specks that made it
possible for them to identify them at such a distance.

"That is the Orion," Damien said, his voice sounding

strained.

"What's the Orion?" Zoe asked uneasily.
"Reuel's flagship," Kameron responded grimly.
Zoe frowned, trying to place the name. Despite the fact

that it sounded very familiar, however, she couldn't dredge
up the memory associated with it. "Who's Reuel?"

All four men glanced at her sharply. "Commander Reuel,"

Kyle said after gaping at her in stunned disbelief for several
moments.

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That piece of information definitely jogged something loose

and it still took a couple of moments for it to fall into place.
"The Reuel?" she demanded after a moment, feeling a shiver
trace its way down her spine. "The most wanted ... The rogue
who...."

Kyle nodded, standing to watch as the others had as the

lead ship broke away from formation, heading straight for the
plateau.

Reluctantly, Zoe stood, as well. Her knees felt

unaccountably weak, though. Not unaccountably, she
corrected herself. If they were talking about the rogue she
thought, and she doubted there was another, the horror
stories she'd heard about him were enough to make anybody
weak with fear, especially if they were human.

The price on his head had been astronomical, high enough

to pull in some of the most successful bounty hunters ever
known, but none of them had lived long enough to collect
their reward. Reuel, according to the news sheets, was the
first to go rogue, the one who'd turned the others and led
them to slaughter any humans that crossed their path.

He hated humans—as in, the only good one was a dead

one.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here," she said shakily. "He hates

humans, right?"

Kameron glanced sharply at her. "You can not believe all of

the propaganda the company releases. He does not kill
indiscriminately ... not even humans."

"Well! As long as he uses discrimination! Which part of the

propaganda should I discount?"

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"The part where he snatches your heart from your chest

and eats it before your eyes."

Zoe gaped at him for several moments before she saw the

glint of grim amusement in his eyes. "You are so damned
funny!"

"He does not wear a necklace of human ears, either. It is

teeth."

Zoe glanced at Gavin uneasily.
"Entrails—he does not use the victim's own entrails to

choke them. He uses the hands," Kyle offered.

"He does wear a cape made from human skin, however,"

Damien said, nodding.

She didn't particularly care for their methods, but she

relaxed fractionally at their graveyard humor. "And you said
cyborgs didn't have a sense of humor!" she said waspishly.

Gavin and Damien grinned at her as if she'd paid them a

compliment. Kyle actually chuckled and even Kameron smiled
faintly, if somewhat grimly. The lightening of their moods
didn't last long. As the Orion hovered above the plateau and
began to slowly settle, all four of them tensed.

"You think he's onboard?" Zoe asked uneasily.
"We will know soon," Kameron responded grimly.
Zoe didn't see the actual landing. Her attention was drawn

by the other ships that had accompanied the commander's
flagship as they shot by overhead, circling the plateau like a
small swarm of angry bees. The mercs made the deadly
mistake of engaging them by lobbing a half dozen photon
grenades. The ships returned fire. Explosions assaulted Zoe's

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ears. She saw dirt and chunks of trees, smoke, and fireballs.
Within a few minutes, silence returned.

Wondering if that meant the cyborgs had wiped out the

mercs or if they'd decided retreat was in order, Zoe dragged
her gaze from the still circling ships in time to see the
gangplank extend from the Orion. Tension rippled through
her, her uneasiness magnified by the taut demeanor of the
men around her.

A tall man with long dark hair, wearing a uniform similar to

the one she'd been given to wear, strode purposefully down
the ramp. She didn't need to ask if this was the infamous
Reuel. Everything about him commanded attention, from his
height and the breadth his shoulders, to his bearing and the
harshly handsome face.

Kameron and Gavin, with Kyle and Damien directly behind

them, marched forward to meet him, saluting. Reuel
acknowledged them with an almost regal nod.

Actually, Zoe thought there was no 'almost' to it.
He didn't look directly at her but there was no doubt in her

mind that he had noted everything about her down to the
smallest detail.

She did wish she wasn't wearing the uniform she'd

scavenged from the wreckage. She'd been pleased at finding
it because although it was still a little large for her it fit worlds
better than the jumpsuit Kameron had given her that
belonged to Gavin or Kyle.

She doubted that wearing a company uniform was

anything that was going to make a favorable impression,
however.

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Trying not to look as self-conscious and uneasy as she felt,

Zoe glanced casually around at the other cyborg ships that
had begun to land on the plateau around them—four in all.
Two continued to circle the plateau and she assumed they
were there to guard against attack.

Apparently Kameron had been giving a report. After a few

minutes, Reuel turned to survey the Omega and the five men
moved off to inspect it.

It hadn't occurred to Zoe until that moment that Kameron

and the others might be in trouble. It hit her forcefully,
though, as she watched them moving around the Omega and
realized they were explaining the repairs—at least she
thought that was what they were doing.

For their sakes, she hoped they hadn't delayed repairs.

She had a bad feeling that Reuel was not a man who would
be easily fooled and she doubted he would take it well if he
discovered they'd been fooling around here with her when
they could have been at their posts.

She studied them uneasily as those thoughts ran through

her head, trying to decide from their expressions if they were
in trouble, and from Reuel's if he was angry. It was no
comfort to discover she couldn't tell anything by any of their
expressions.

She knew the moment Kameron explained her presence,

though. Reuel turned and, for the first time, looked directly at
her. A shiver skated through her. The urge to run flickered
through her mind, briefly, as he nodded a dismissal of
Kameron and the others and strode directly toward her.

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She held her ground, mostly because the moment she'd

thought to run she realized that she was surrounded by
cyborgs and, although she'd been too focused on watching
Reuel and Kameron to realize it before, she discovered they
hadn't been similarly preoccupied.

She had everyone's attention.
Reuel's gaze was assessing as he stopped a couple of feet

away from her and surveyed her. As unnerved as she was,
she lifted her chin at him and looked him in the eyes.

"I am told that you are Dr. Bronte's sister," he said after a

moment.

"Her half-sister, yes," Zoe responded.
He quirked a dark brow at her.
"Same father, different mothers," she clarified.
His gaze was keen, piercing, as if he could see into her

mind. "You led the raid."

Zoe's jaw dropped. "I did no such thing!" she snapped. "I

came to find my sister—who was kidnapped by cyborgs!"

"She has never spoken of a sister."
Zoe's lips tightened. "You know her that well?"
He said nothing for a moment. "We do not do things by

half measures. Her background was thoroughly researched."

"And her father's?" Zoe countered.
He tilted his head. "His also since he was the original

target. I would have thought you would say 'our' father's."

Anger supplanted Zoe's nervousness—not necessarily a

good thing since it made her incautious. "He never claimed
me so I don't claim him either. That doesn't change the fact
that he sired me, or that I'm Bronte's sister."

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His gaze moved over her assessingly again. "You came for

the reward, did you not?"

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Chapter Twenty One

She hadn't, but it had certainly crossed her mind and

because it had and she knew it was splitting hairs to argue
the matter, especially with a man like Reuel, Zoe felt a heated
blush rise in her cheeks to flag her guilt. "I came for my
sister," she repeated tightly.

She wasn't unaccustomed to interrogation tactics. She'd

used them often enough on others in her line work to know
the routine. She wasn't guilty of anything, though, she
reminded herself. There was no reason to be worried about it.

Except she felt guilty from the moment he mentioned the

bounty the company offered because even though she'd
thought at the time that she had every reason to pursue it
and no reason to feel any qualms, she knew better now.

"This is a very long way to come for a sister you do not

know, who does not know you."

"I don't expect you to understand, but that isn't the point

is it?"

His eyes narrowed. "That is exactly the point. You do not

seem to grasp your position."

Zoe folded her arms defensively. "Why don't you explain

it?"

"You violated our space. You brought with you a fleet of

company mercenaries whose intent was clearly to attack the
cyborg nation. That makes you an enemy of the cyborg
people."

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"I didn't bring anyone with me," she responded tightly.

"Your people kidnapped my sister. I came after her. Whatever
their plans were, I wasn't informed, and I damned sure did
not cooperate with them in any way."

"You were not aware of the bounty?"
"I didn't say that. I said that wasn't my purpose for

coming."

"You had no intention of collecting the bounty?"
She hesitated just a fraction too long. "It occurred to me

that I might be able to," she acknowledged since there didn't
seem to be any point in continuing to deny it. "But if that was
my goal in coming, I sure as hell wouldn't have brought a
dozen ships loaded down with mercenaries to share it with. I
don't know if they tracked me with some sort of homing chip
they'd hidden in my ship, or began to follow me at some
point, but I wasn't aware of their presence."

His lips tightened. "You came—alone—to retrieve your

sister from the cyborg nation?"

"You sent one ship to steal her to start with!" she said

testily. "I figured I'd get her out the same way. Give me a
little damned credit if you're determined to peg me as the
villain here. If I'd come with the intention of making war, I
damned sure would've brought a hell of a lot more than a
handful of ships! You've got a lot of damned nerve acting like
the injured party here to start with. You kidnapped my sister!
If that was your idea of 'making friends' you missed by a long
shot!"

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He was silent for several moments. "Your sister has been

welcomed into the community as a valued citizen. She is well
and happy and satisfied to be where she is. Go home."

Zoe stared at him in disbelief, feeling as if the ground had

dropped from under her. She hadn't considered, hadn't
allowed herself to consider the possibility that they wouldn't
even allow her to see her sister. "I'm supposed to take your
word for it?"

"You will have to," he said dismissively.
"Let me at least see her—talk to her!" she said quickly as

he started to turn away, unable to keep a note of pleading
from creeping into her voice.

"We do not take enemies of the people to the people."
She followed him, keeping up with him with an effort.

"Then bring her here so I can talk to her."

"No!"
"Why not, damn it? If you're so fucking convinced she's

happy to be where she is, what harm could there be in me
talking to her?"

He paused. "She has given birth and she is human. She is

not strong enough to make such a trip so soon after the birth
nor the infants she gave birth to."

How could she argue with that, especially when Kameron

had already told her and she knew it must be true. "Wait!"

He paused and looked at her impatiently.
"Can't I at least send her a message?"
He seemed reluctant even to allow her that much. "What

message would you have me convey?"

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A nearly overwhelming sense of despair washed over her

abruptly, clogging her throat. She struggled for composure.
"Tell her.... "She broke off, clearing her throat. "Tell her I'm
sorry for the years I wasted blaming her for something that
wasn't her fault. Tell her I love her and ... and that I tried."

He nodded, studying her for a long moment. "The

mercenaries are encamped five miles southeast of this
plateau. No doubt your people will come to pick you up."

Thanks for nothing, she thought angrily, but she held her

tongue until he turned away again. "Kameron and the others
... they aren't in any kind of trouble are they?"

He hesitated, swiveling a speculative glance at her. "Why

would you think they were?"

She swallowed against the uneasiness that joined the knot

of misery already closing her throat in a painful fist. "I didn't
think it, but I don't know anything about military matters. I
just wanted to know if they were going to be alright."

"That is not your concern."
Anger momentarily supplanted Zoe's misery and her fear

that Kameron and the others might be facing some kind of
charges for helping her. "You don't know me. Don't presume
to know what my concerns are! My people sure as hell
haven't cornered the market on bigotry."

Knowing he had no intention of telling her anything, she

turned away and stalked off. She hadn't gone far before she
realized she had no fucking clue where she was going.
Obviously, she wasn't going with the cyborgs. She would've
liked to talk to Kameron and Gavin, or Damien or Kyle, to see

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if they knew, or would tell her, if they were in trouble, and
what kind and how bad. She would've liked to tell them bye.

She decided it wasn't a good idea. If they weren't in

trouble already, she didn't want to do anything that might get
them in trouble, and if they were, she didn't want to make it
worse. It seemed pretty obvious Reuel was already
suspicious.

Besides, she barely had a grasp on her emotions as it was.

If she tried to talk to them she was going to break down and
cry all over them. She was not going to do that in front of all
the damned cyborgs! Clearly, they already had a superiority
complex in regards to humans. She wasn't going to reinforce
that certainty by becoming an emotional wreck in front of
them.

She stopped when she reached the cliff edge, trying to

ignore the uncomfortable sense of weightlessness that
clenched at her stomach as she looked out over the valley to
see if she could pinpoint the supposed encampment Reuel
had told her about.

She didn't relish the idea of joining them, but she didn't

think she had a lot of options. She didn't have a weapon or
any supplies at all. She wasn't going to survive ten minutes
on her own.

She didn't realize how hard she'd been struggling to focus

on her dilemma to keep from thinking about anything else
until she suddenly became aware of another presence.
Startled, more than half hoping it would be Kameron or one
the others, she glanced up sharply and discovered the cyborg

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was a complete stranger to her. He was holding a pack in one
hand.

"The commander ordered me to bring this to you."
Zoe glanced at the pack with far more resentment than

appreciation. "Tell him I said thanks," she said, striving to
keep the bitterness and anger from her voice as she took it.

All things considered, she supposed he was behaving with

unexpected decency. She wasn't able to appreciate it at the
moment, though.

* * * *

"I say we should claim her," Damien said angrily. "It can

not hurt to try. I do not care if we spend the next six months
in the brig. It is better than leaving her here!"

Kameron glared at him furiously. "Do you think I am

worried about that? Though six years is more likely than
months if the commander realizes we were in no great hurry
to return to our posts! It will do her no good. We do not have
a contract to support such a claim!"

"Mayhap it would work as well to tell the commander that

it was agreed upon and we had intended to see to it when we
returned?"

"And what if she disputes the claim?" Kameron shot back

at Gavin.

"She is too smart to throw away her only chance to get to

her sister."

"You are willing to contract with her knowing she has only

agreed so that she can reach Bronte?" Kameron demanded.

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Kyle, Gavin, and Damien exchanged speaking glances.

"Yes," they said almost in unison.

Kameron's lips tightened. In truth, he was, but it had only

been a rhetorical question. He had no hope such a thing
would sway the commander. Finally, he merely nodded. "I will
speak to him."

Reuel was speaking to one of the pilots when he located

him. He waited until the man had been dismissed to
approach.

"Permission to speak, sir?"
Reuel sent him an annoyed look. "It is about the woman?"
Kameron nodded.
"You have something to say that I do not know already or

at least suspect?"

Kameron resisted the impulse to shift uneasily under

Reuel's scrutiny. "She will not be safe with the mercenaries,"
he said more sharply than he had intended.

"She is allied with them."
Kameron's lips tightened. "They do not act as allies. They

attacked her. I had not intended to keep her with us. I left
her when Damien and I went to help to secure the Omega,
thinking that she would rejoin them. When we had routed
them and they retreated, they came upon her and attacked."

Reuel frowned. "This is the only 'evidence' you have that

she was not allied with them?"

Kameron's lips tightened. "I am certain that she was not.

She had no idea that she was followed. It can not be a
surprise to you that they would use one of their own to bait a
trap?"

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Reuel studied him speculatively. "It does not bother you

that she was intent upon collecting the bounty placed on our
heads? Do not bother to tell me that you and the others have
not considered the possibility of claiming her as your woman.
I have eyes in my head and I have seen the way you watch
her. If you are supporting her claims only because you have
some notion that by doing so you will be supporting your
own, then you are mistaken. That is not likely to happen. You
have six weeks remaining on rotation and the four of you will
return to your posts. In that time, even if I agreed to take
her, even if the council agreed to accept her as a citizen, she
will most likely be claimed by someone else."

Kameron swallowed a little sickly. "Mayhap you are right

and she thought to collect the bounty, but I am as certain as
I can be that that was not what brought her. She is telling the
truth when she claims she came to find her sister. For her
safety, you can not leave her in the hands of the mercenaries.
Her sister is a valued citizen. She is not likely to take it well if
she discovers that Zoe was abandoned here."

Reuel's eyes narrowed. "And she will know this how?"
Kameron's jaw tightened. "She will know because I will

make certain that she knows," he said grimly.

Reuel was silent for several moments. "You surprise me. I

had expected that you would try to claim her."

"If she is accepted as a citizen, I will."
Reuel smiled grimly. "There is no 'if' involved. If I take her,

she will become a citizen. The council would never allow her
to leave. They would not want to risk the possibility that she
could lead others back to us."

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Kameron nodded. He had expected nothing less. "You will

consider it?"

Reuel turned to study the figure pacing the edge of the

cliff. "It was a good strategic move to lead the enemy here,"
he said instead of answering. "This is still closer than I like,
but it will keep them occupied for a time searching for some
sign of us here. I think, eventually, that we will have war."

Kameron reddened faintly. "I would like to claim brilliance,

but the truth is we had no choice in the matter after the ship
was hit since preservation of our resources is our prime
directive beyond protecting home base."

Reuel gave him a hard look. "Our citizens, of which you are

one, are our most valued resources."

Kameron relaxed fractionally. "I am relieved that you value

my hide as much as I do."

Reuel grinned. "Mayhap not as much. You are dismissed."
Reluctantly, Kameron saluted and rejoined his crew.
"Well?" Damien demanded as soon as he'd returned.
"It should not come as any great surprise that we are to

finish out our rotation," Kameron responded.

They stared at him with varying degrees of dismay and

resignation. "But Zoe?" Gavin prompted.

"He would only say that he would consider what I had to

say."

"What did you have to say?" Damien demanded.
"I told him that her sister would not be pleased to discover

Zoe had been abandoned here at the mercy of the soldiers."

"You did not tell him...?"

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"He is not a fool!" Kameron growled, breaking into Kyle's

complaint. "Do you think he did not guess that the moment
he set eyes upon her?"

"Yes, but you did not state our claim!" Damien said

indignantly. "If we are to finish our rotation, she will be six
weeks on the home world with every unattached male vying
for her attention!"

"Is it not more important to make certain she is safe?"

Kameron ground out angrily.

"We are not likely to disagree with that!" Gavin said

angrily. "You should still have stated our claim for the
record!"

Kameron's lips tightened. "For who's record?" he snarled.

"We did not even ask her!"

The other three men stared at him in stunned dismay for a

moment before anger supplanted their shock. "That is your
fault!" Damien snarled. "I told you we should have asked her
straight away!"

"Do not blame your lapse on me!" Kameron shot back at

him. "You could have asked her."

"You said to wait upon your plan—except that you never

formulated one."

"And no one waited!" Kameron pointed out.
A snarling voice intruded before they could come to blows.

"Break it up unless you wish to spend time in the brig! The
commander has ordered that you take up your posts. Gavin—
you and Kyle are to take the Ricco. Kameron and Damien the
Zephyr."

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All four turned to glare at the intruder for a moment before

they contained their temper and saluted. "What of the
Omega?" Gavin demanded.

The officer glared at him. "The crews from the Zephr and

the Ricco will remain here, finish the repairs and return to
base with it."

The four exchanged frustrated looks, but they all knew

they had no choice. They had their orders. They could follow
them and return to their posts, or protest and go to the brig,
but they were not going to be allowed to stay. Since fighting
would not help Zoe and might, in fact, hurt her chances, they
set their tools down and reported to their respective
assignments.

Seeing that the commander had approached Zoe, Kameron

delayed his departure as long as he dared, waiting to see if
she would return with Reuel to his flagship. Gritting his teeth
when Reuel turned and fixed him with a hard look, he gave
Damien the order to start the engine.

With considerable relief, he saw as his ship began to rise

from the plateau that Zoe and Reuel had turned and were
headed toward Reuel's flagship.

* * * *

"It has been brought to my attention that you will not be

safe if left with the mercenaries," Reuel said without
preamble.

Zoe felt a sharp pain in the region of her heart. It was still

with reluctance that she admitted her own doubts. "I had

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some doubts about my welcome considering our last
encounter."

"Kameron said they attacked you."
Soothing warmth spread through her. "They seemed to

think I was consorting with the enemy," she replied dryly.

"And they were wrong?"
She shrugged. "No, they were right. I was consorting with

their enemy. But then the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I
don't work for the company. I never did. And after what I've
found about the bastards, you may be sure they are certainly
not friends of mine."

Reuel studied her thoughtfully. "You would be willing to

live among the enemy of your enemy?"

Doubt and hope instantly warred within her. She frowned,

trying to figure out what impulse was stronger, the urge to go
with Reuel and have the chance to see her sister and make
up for the time lost—the added possibility of seeing Kameron,
Gavin, Damien, and Kyle again—maybe being with them. Or
the urge to see justice done. "I'd like to see the company
brought down," she said slowly. "It seems to me they've
broken just about every law on the books."

"You think that your people would prosecute them for what

they have done to us?" he asked in patent disbelief.

"Not directly, no. In the eyes of the law, you would not be

considered a victim. Nevertheless, they have broken enough
laws to spend a good bit of time in prison. That's what they're
trying to avoid—The government will get away with it. They
always do, but the company—that's a different matter."

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He nodded. "You must decide—now—which is of most

importance to you. If I take you to your sister, there will be
no going back."

She frowned, still torn. "It goes against the grain to let the

bastards get away with what they've done. I'm a cop to the
bone. Injustice infuriates me."

"We are the ones who were wronged. We accept

responsibility for our own justice."

She smiled at him wryly. "That's not the way it works."
Reuel returned her smile with a faint one of his own, but

then frowned thoughtfully. "I am certain there will be many
who are disappointed in you choose duty above them."

Zoe's throat closed. "Maybe I wouldn't be worthy of them

if I didn't?"

Reuel shook his head and finally heaved an irritated sigh.

"I will have to kidnap you, then. I have made up my mind I
will not leave you if you are not safe here."

Zoe almost smiled at the comment. She looked down at

her feet. "I suppose if I have no choice...."

"None," he assured her.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twenty Two

The man who snatched the door open might have been

handsome if not for the furious expression on his face. Zoe
took a step back.

"What?" he demanded in a harsh whisper.
"Good day, Gideon," Reuel, who'd escorted Zoe to Bronte's

home, said in a pleasant, if slightly clipped voice.

Gideon had paled slightly when his eyes settled on Reuel.

"Shhh—sir! You will wake him and we will have no peace!"

Zoe hadn't noticed until he spoke that he had a tiny bundle

curled protectively in one arm. The bundle wiggled and a look
of horror crossed Gideon's features.

Zoe struggled with the urge to laugh.
Reuel, after staring at the wiggling bundle for a moment,

finally spoke quietly. "I have brought Dr. Bronte's sister to
her."

For the first time Gideon actually glanced at Zoe. "Do you

know how to care for infants?" he asked hopefully.

Zoe shrugged. "Afraid not," she whispered.
He frowned, disappointment evident in his features, but

finally nodded. "Come in. She is resting."

"Oh!" Zoe exclaimed uncomfortably, struggling against a

sense of relief that she had an excuse to put the meeting off
a little longer. "I'd hate to wake her if she's resting. I'll just
come back later."

Gideon grabbed her arm before she could retreat. "She

hates to rest. She will be glad to have company."

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Zoe glanced back toward Reuel, only to discover him in full

retreat, striding quickly back along the drive that led to the
city. Gideon released her long enough to close the door and
shut off her only avenue of escape.

She sneaked a glance at his profile as he escorted her to

Bronte's room. His focus was on the bundle in his arms, which
he carried as if it was a live grenade, she thought with wry
amusement. First impressions aside, she had to admit he was
a handsome specimen of Cyborg manhood—as if there was
one that wasn't.

If there was, she'd yet to see one.
Not that she'd had a lot of time for sightseeing. As soon as

they'd landed, Reuel had taken it upon himself to escort her
directly to her sister's home. He had explained along the way
that she would be expected to speak to the council, of which
he was one member, but that he meant to speak on her
behalf first and she would be summoned when the time came.
In the meanwhile, she would be 'safer' to stay at the home of
her sister.

She wasn't certain what he meant by that, but the

comment had made her uneasy.

Reaching a door on the upper landing, Gideon pushed it

open and urged her inside by planting a hand in the middle of
her back and giving her a shove. "Bronte, I have brought
your sister to see you!" he said, smiling broadly as if he was
completely responsible for her being there.

Bronte, ensconced in a huge bed, sat up and stared at Zoe

blankly—hardly a surprise since she'd never laid eyes on her,
Zoe thought wryly.

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Subtlety in any form was obviously not something these

cyborgs had a grasp of. She hadn't had the chance to explain
anything. She hadn't had the chance to prepare herself. She
couldn't think of anything to say.

Bronte, after staring at her blankly for long enough Zoe

had begun to wish she could vanish, smiled. "Zoe!"

Zoe thought for several moments that she would faint.

"You know me?" she asked in a strained voice, dazed and
confused.

Bronte's chuckle was a little tense. "Did you think I

wouldn't recognize my own sister?" she asked chidingly. "Sit
down. You look tired. Did you have a difficult trip?"

Zoe dropped into the chair Bronte waved her toward,

struggling with the bizarre sense of unreality that had
engulfed her.

Bronte turned her attention to Gideon while she was still

trying to collect her wits.

"Gideon! He will smother in that thing!"
Gideon frowned, looking down at the bundle uncertainly.

"It is wound too tightly?"

Bronte held out her hands in demand and he moved

closer, very carefully adjusting his hold on the infant and
holding it out to her. Taking the baby, she settled it on the
bed beside her and unwound the thin cover he'd been
swaddled in. "Just as I thought! He's sweating, poor baby!
Did you change his diaper?"

Gideon looked uncomfortable. "No," he finally admitted.
Bronte looked displeased. "You said you'd check him."
"I guess we interrupted," Zoe interceded.

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He flicked a grateful glance at her. "I had to answer the

door."

Bronte's lips tightened as if she suspected it was only an

excuse. "Just bring a diaper. I'll change him. I'm sure he
needs changing."

"I said that I would take care of it," Gideon said, his voice

stiff with affront. "I only came to bring your sister." Reaching
down, he very carefully lifted the baby again, cupping a hand
under both ends.

The moment he lifted the baby to his chest it's face turned

a bright red. Expecting the infant to start wailing when he
turned red, Zoe was horrified at the revolting noise that
issued from the vicinity of his diaper.

Gideon looked a little green. "He has shi.... "He broke off

when he met Bronte's gaze. "...made a nasty," he corrected
himself.

It took every ounce of self restraint Zoe had to keep from

bursting into laughter.

"Good!" Bronte said forthrightly. "I was worried about his

bowels."

"You need not concern yourself," Gideon responded. "I am

certain he is empty now."

Zoe snorted, choked, and managed to regain control.
Bronte sent her a chiding look and struggled to sit up. "I'll

change him."

"No! You are to rest. I will take care of it." He strode to the

door. "Gabriel!" he bellowed.

"Gideon! Gabriel changed the last one."

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Gideon hunched his shoulders and stalked down the

hallway with the now squalling infant.

Bronte and Zoe exchanged a look. Bronte covered her

mouth. "Close the door," she ordered in a shaky voice, her
eyes dancing with suppressed amusement.

Zoe glanced at Bronte and grinned when she'd closed the

door.

Bronte uttered a choked laugh and grabbed the coverlet to

stifle her laughter.

Zoe chuckled, as well, but sobered after a moment. "So

that's the terrible raider who kidnapped you."

Bronte's laughter subsided. "Is that what brought you?"

she asked tentatively.

Zoe returned to the chair she'd vacated but discovered she

was too nervous to sit still. "I thought I was coming to rescue
you," she admitted wryly. "You don't want to be rescued,
though, do you?"

Bronte smiled at her warmly. "No—I adore my men, but I

can't tell you how wonderful it makes me feel that you cared
enough to take such risks to come to help me."

Zoe blushed, smiling wryly. "It's just as well you didn't

need to be rescued," she said flatly. "I fucked up the rescue
attempt pretty royalty."

"Oh, I don't believe that!" Bronte said dismissively. "You

must have come close or you wouldn't be here now."

Zoe let it go. They both knew she'd been completely

ineffectual, but it was a case of all's well that ends well since
Bronte obviously didn't want or need to be rescued. "How did

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you know me?" she asked curiously. "I didn't think you even
knew I existed."

"Oh, I knew," Bronte said wryly. "My parents fought

terribly over it—one of the only times I can remember them
fighting, but I had sneaked down to listen at the door when I
heard them yelling at each other so I knew the whole story.
And, well, I did look you up when I was older and could, but I
never really had the nerve to try to introduce myself to you.
Anyway, you look a lot like father, you know."

The information didn't particularly please Zoe. "I've got his

ungodly hair," she said dryly.

"I've got the red, too," Bronte said.
"But it isn't garish like mine."
"Your hair isn't garish!" Bronte disputed indignantly. "Who

told you it was?"

Zoe shrugged. "My mirror."
Bronte eyed her speculatively. "You just hate it because

it's like father's," she said with unerring insight. "He wasn't a
bad man—really, he wasn't. He was just...."

"Self-centered."
"I was going to say devoted to his work," Bronte said. "But

I guess he was pretty self-centered, too."

They fell silent. Bronte plucked at her coverlet nervously

and finally looked at Zoe. "I don't suppose you'd be
comfortable giving your big sister a hug?"

Zoe stared at her for a long moment, feeling a curious

sense of lightness sweep over her as if she'd dropped a heavy
burden. She settled on the bed next to Bronte and hugged

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her. "I thought I'd missed my chance to get to know you,"
she murmured.

Bronte was misty eyed when she leaned away to look at

Zoe. "Thanks to your determination we didn't miss the chance
to be real sisters." Bronte frowned at her uneasily. "You know
they won't allow you to go back?"

Zoe nodded. "Reuel made that very clear before he would

agree to bring me."

Bronte shivered. "Scary man."
Zoe couldn't help but agree, but she chuckled. "Gideon

looked pretty daunting."

Bronte beamed at her. Before she could say more,

however, there was a tap on the door. Both of them turned in
time to see a dark haired man wearing a hospital mask and
gloves poke his head around the edge of the door.

Bronte started laughing. "Did me make you change Dillon's

diaper?"

The man looked confused for a moment before he

apparently realized he was still wearing his 'hazmat' suit. He
snatched the mask and gloves off, grinning at her sheepishly.
"I did not mind," he assured her, tossing the articles aside
and striding across the room.

Zoe scooted off the bed and out of the way as he

approached, which she wryly thought was just as well. He had
eyes for no one but Bronte and went straight to her, leaning
down to kiss her thoroughly. "This is my darling Gabriel,"
Bronte said in a slightly unsteady voice when he released her
and straightened. "Gabriel, my sister Zoe."

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Gabriel grinned at her, looked a little uncertain for a

moment, and then abruptly grabbed her in a bear hug for a
moment before he released her.

"They are hungry," he said as he turned to Bronte again. "I

think. Gideon sent me to ask."

Bronte looked as if she'd been offered a treat. "Oh yes,

bring them! I want them to meet their Aunty Zoe!"

Zoe looked at Bronte when Gabriel had left. "Gorgeous!"

she pronounced waggling her brows.

"Don't get ideas, sis!"
Zoe laughed. "It wouldn't do me any good." She frowned

then. "I was told you'd contracted with three?"

Bronte blushed. "Four, actually. Jerico and Caleb are on

rotation. Gideon and Gabriel get home duty right now. They
really are delighted at being fathers."

Zoe lifted her brows, but didn't even attempt to question

the remark since she could hear a chorus of wails coming
closer and growing louder. Gideon entered the room carrying
two, his face screwed up in a wince.

Bronte took one from him and bared her breast. As tiny as

the baby was, he had no difficulty finding the business end
and clamping down it. Bronte winced faintly. "Good jaws. I
was worried about them being so tiny, but they're not weak."

"Good lungs, too," Gideon remarked without a hint of a

smile.

Gabriel brought up the rear with a third squalling infant

and two bottles. He and Gideon settled on the bed with
Bronte and plugged the gaping holes in their son's heads. The
silence was almost deafening.

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Feeling more like an intruder than at any time since she'd

arrived, Zoe studied the two men and discovered that Bronte
hadn't merely been trying to convince herself that her men
were delighted with their babies. Both Gideon and Gabriel
were studying the faces of the infants they held with
expressions that very clearly spoke of love.

"This is Blaide, Jerico's son. You already met Gabriel's son,

Dillon. And Gideon is holding his son, Corin."

Realizing she'd been prompted to admire the babies, she

got up and moved closer to peer at their tiny faces. She'd
been fully prepared to lie through her teeth if necessary, but
she discovered that it wasn't. "They're beautiful, Bronte!"

All three parents rewarded her by beaming at her before

they returned their attention to admiring their off-spring. "It
must have been ... difficult for you."

"Hideously miserable! I was so huge toward the last, but I

was determined to hang on as long as I could—worried, you
know, about having them prematurely. Which, as it turns out,
I needn't have been nearly as worried as I was. They all have
their nanos to protect them. I feel sure they would've been
fine if they'd been a little early, but I still have a hard time
grasping how efficient the little nanos are."

"They have nanos?" Zoe echoed in stunned surprise.
Bronte's brows rose. "Of course! They're half cyborg, you

know. Actually, I have my own now, so I suppose they might
have gotten them from me. But I'll tell you that story later.
We'll have lots of time to talk and get to know each other.
You'll be staying here with us, won't you?"

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Zoe shifted uncomfortably. "I'd hate to intrude. You have

your hands full."

Gideon surprised her. "You must stay with us. The

barracks would be besieged with suitors if you were to stay
there. You will be safer here with your sister. Gabriel and I
will chase off the males you have no interest in."

Zoe blushed to the roots of her hair. She couldn't decide

whether to laugh or scoff at Gideon's assessment. "I doubt
it'll come to that."

"It would come to that if you were not beautiful," Gideon

said flatly. "Since you are, there is liable to be riots."

"He's teasing, right?"
Bronte shrugged. "Yes and no. I'm sure they'll keep order,

but once they hear...."

Zoe frowned. "But ... I'm human. I didn't think they liked

humans."

Gideon sent her a strange look. "We adore our Bronte," he

said simply.

"You've chosen an odd place to settle if you don't like

cyborgs," Bronte said coolly, all of the friendliness vanished
from her face.

"I didn't say that!" Zoe said defensively, adding

uncomfortably. "I happen to be very fond of one or two."

Bronte exchanged a knowing look with her men. "That's

sound promising. We should talk about it later, though. I
know you have to be tired." She settled the baby she was
holding on the bed beside her and reached for the infant
Gideon was holding, bringing him to her other breast. "Why

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don't you show Zoe which room will be hers? She'll need
everything, I'm sure."

Zoe didn't actually feel like resting, but she discovered

after she'd showered that, despite the nervous knot of energy
that had been coiled inside of her since long before she'd
stepped inside Bronte's house, she was tired. She lay down
on the bed to think and woke to darkness and a knock on her
door.

The room lights winked on when she sat up in the bed and

stared at the door, momentarily disoriented by her
surroundings.

"Dinner is ready," said a male voice through the door.
She wasn't sure if it was Gideon or Gabriel, but she got up

and went to the door. They were dining in Bronte's room, she
discovered. Bronte made a wry face when she came in. "The
medtech said I was to have complete bed rest until the nanos
had repaired the damage and they've taken it very literally,"
she explained irritably. "They haven't let me set so much as
my big toe out of the bed since we got home from the med
center. I will be so glad to get back to our old routine!"

Gideon sent her a look that should have singed her

eyebrows. "So will I."

Bronte rewarded him with a look that made Zoe feel

distinctly uncomfortable.

"I also," Gabriel agreed cheerfully. "When do you think the

infants will begin to feed themselves, Bronte?"

Bronte bit her lip. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see,

sweety."

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"I do not mind the feeding," Gideon said. "When will they

talk instead of screaming when they are displeased?"

Bronte chuckled. "You'll be sorry when they're no longer so

sweet and helpless."

Gideon frowned. "I do not think so."
By the end of the week, Zoe was inclined to agree with

poor Gideon. She thought it might not have been quite so bad
if she'd in initiated into the care and feeding of infants on a
smaller scale—like one—at a distance—but staying in the
house with three was akin to torture for someone completely
unaccustomed to the hours babies kept and especially the
way they communicated their needs. Inevitably, if one began
to cry, all three were soon wailing at the top of their lungs,
and Gideon was right on the mark. They had excellent lungs.

They had one saving grace. They were adorable—

especially when they were asleep. Bronte, Gideon, and
Gabriel, it seemed to her, could be content to stare at their
sleeping faces for hours at the time, smiling.

It was the peace, she reflected, at first. After a while, she

found herself doing the same thing, completely fascinated by
the faces they made in their sleep.

She was uncomfortable asking Bronte, especially when

Bronte had gotten so angry with her at just a hint that she
might be prejudiced against the cyborgs, but her curiosity
finally got the better of her.

"Don't take this the wrong way...."
Bronte instantly tensed and Zoe knew she was going to get

a tongue lashing if she didn't watch her step. "I know the
cyborgs have evolved into sentient beings. I never would've

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believed it if I hadn't gotten to know them, but I certainly
couldn't dispute it now."

"But?"
"You said the babies were part cyborg?"
"They are."
"How?"
Bronte looked angry, but after a moment she seemed

almost to shrug. "I suppose it would be more accurate to say
they are a new race entirely. They aren't exactly like their
fathers. Naturally, their skeletal structure is bones—not
titanium alloy—and the rest. But when they were created,
they—the cyborgs—were created sort of like super-humans, I
suppose. They have twice the DNA strands a 'normal' human
does, which makes them 'not human' but humanoid. Their
babies have that, as well. And of course, their own nanos,
which is far, far better than a human immune system—which
they also have." She studied Zoe speculatively. "You thought
I was only making it up to make them feel like they had off-
spring of their own?"

Zoe shrugged. "I figured they were—human. You are.

Their fathers' origins.... It seemed ... logical," she finished,
smiling faintly. She frowned after a moment. "I still don't see
how you managed to have three by different men all at the
same time. That isn't really possible, is it?"

"Actually, it is and it has happened—not with three. As far

as I know there were never but a few cases of such a thing
happening, where women had produced two eggs in one cycle
and had sex with more than one male during the fertile
period. I don't think that's what happened with me.

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"We crashed when we got here and I nearly died. The

three of them—Gabriel, Jerico, and Gideon—I didn't meet
Caleb till later—they slashed their wrists to force their nanos
into me. It was the only thing they could think of to do to
save me—and it worked, thankfully! The nanos 'adopted' me,
repaired the damage. The only thing I can figure out about it
is that they were already keyed to their original owners' DNA,
and the damage being in the vicinity of my left ovary, they
'decided' to tuck the DNA where it would flourish.

"I'm just guessing, of course. I don't actually know that

much about the nanos except that they are self-replicating—I
have more now than they could possibly have given me—and
they repair anything that seems to need it.

"The babies' nanos are different—actually my newer ones

are. They borrow from whatever materials are available when
they replicate, so the new ones are organic. And apparently
they weren't satisfied that the babies had only bones when
their fathers skeletal structure is so much stronger. They
can't turn bone into steel, but they've made the babies' bones
harder and thicker and, therefore, considerably stronger.

"That's a guess, too, by the way. I could be wrong. As I

said, the babies have twice the strands we do. I don't even
know what they're all for."

"Beyond creating beautiful men," Zoe said, grinning.
Bronte chuckled, then uttered a heartfelt sigh. "They are,

aren't they?" She fell silent for a few moments, eyeing Zoe
speculatively. "Now, why don't you tell me about the 'one or
two' you've met that you're fond of?"

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twenty Three

Damien released a long suffering sigh. Since it was the

third in as many minutes, and his patience was already
stretched well beyond the breaking point, Kameron had to
struggle hard to refrain from knocking him unconscious.
Instead, he glared at him. "If you have something to say, I
wish that you would say it!" he snarled.

Damien swiveled around in his seat and looked at him in

surprise for a moment before he frowned. It was more a
perplexed frown than one of anger, though. "I have been
thinking."

Kameron released a pent up breath of irritation and ground

his teeth. "If it is the same thing that you were thinking last
shift and the one before that, and before that for weeks, then
I do not want to hear it again!"

Damien's expression turned resentful. "Well I have not

figured it out yet. I do not know why it bothers you!"

Kameron sent him a deadly look. "Because I have nothing

to look at beyond the walls, the instruments, black space, and
your face! And I am tired of that look of gloom!"

Damien's brows lifted in surprise. "It is gloom? You think

that I am melancholy?"

Kameron made a derisive sound.
Damien considered it. "I believe that is part of the curious

thing!" he said after a moment. "That is not just right, but it
is close."

"I do not care if it is close or not!" Kameron snarled.

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Damien glared at him a moment and then his brow

cleared. "Something is missing!"

Kameron shot to his feet and began to prowl the length of

the ship and back again. "Of course something is missing!
Zoe is missing!"

Damien thought that over. "She is not missing, precisely.

She is on home world by now. In fact, she has been there for
weeks."

"Did we not have this same exact conversation last week?"

Kameron snapped testily.

"It could not have been the exact conversation," Damien

said reasonably. "I had not realized until now that it was a
sense that something was missing and, in any case, last week
she would only have been gone a couple of weeks, or perhaps
two weeks and I would have said that."

Kameron speared his hands in his hair and tugged on it.

"That is what you did say."

"Well, then it was not the exact same thing!"
Kameron clenched and unclenched his hands a few times

and finally plopped into his seat again.

"What do you suppose I am missing?"
Kameron leapt from his seat and grabbed Damien around

the throat. Stunned, Damien was slow to react. As his
complexion began to turn purple, however, he recovered his
wits sufficiently to drive his fist into Kameron's solar plexus
hard enough to lift him from the floor. Kameron's grip did not
lessen by much, but the second blow to the jaw knocked him
loose.

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Damien leapt from his seat just as Kameron launched

himself toward him again. The collision was enough to pitch
Damien backwards. As he hit the floor in a skidding slide with
Kameron on top of him, though, he was able to get his knees
up between them and used his legs to propel Kameron's
weight upward and off. Kameron landed flat of his back on
the floor behind Damien, kicking over the dining table in the
main cabin as he went down.

Rolling the moment Kameron went air borne, Damien

scrambled to his feet, kneeing Kameron in the back as he sat
up. Grunting, Kameron reached up, grabbed Damien's arm
and jerked down on it, pulling him off balance so that he
rolled over Kameron's shoulder in a forward flip and landed
on his back again.

They'd cleared the narrow hall that connected the bridge to

the main cabin by that time, however, which allowed Damien
room to roll away as Kameron dove for him. That time
Kameron landed flat of his belly on the floor. Taking instant
advantage, Damien straddled his back, grabbed a handful hair
and slammed Kameron's face into the floor a few times before
Kameron managed to kick backwards far enough to kick him
the back of the head.

As Damien pitched forward, Kameron slammed his elbow

back, catching him in the ribs hard enough to knock the
breath from him and hurl him sideways onto the floor. They
grappled with one another for several moments, rolling back
and forth as they hit first one wall and then the other.

They'd just managed to get enough distance between

them to put some power behind their fists when a chime

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sounded in the bridge that made both of them freeze. They
listened intently.

"It is the news dispatch from home!" Damien said.

Instantly diverted, he pushed past Kameron, strode to his
console, and settled in his seat.

Climbing to his feet, Kameron glared at him for several

moments, finally heaved an irritated breath, and stalked back
to his own seat.

"Would you like for me to read it to you?"
"NO!" Kameron said sullenly. "I will read it when you are

done."

Damien shrugged. "I am in no hurry. If you like, you may

read it first."

Propping one arm on the console, Kameron dropped his

chin into his hand and began to drum the fingers of his other
hand on the hard surface. "I am also in no hurry. There is not
another fucking thing to look forward to. I will wait."

"This is interesting," Damien said presently.
"If you tell me before I have read it I will knock your

fucking teeth down your throat!"

Damien shrugged. "I will not tell you it is about Zoe then."
Kameron shot to his feet, grabbed Damien's shoulders,

and shoved him out of his seat, planting his ass firmly in the
vacated seat and gripping the console to prevent Damien
from reciprocating. After shoving at him a couple of times,
Damien gave up and merely leaned over his shoulder.

"You are breathing on my neck," Kameron growled.
Damien ignored the complaint, pointing with his index

finger to the position on the display where he had seen

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mention of Zoe's name. "Zoe has petitioned to become a
citizen and has been accepted."

Kameron scanned the news and ground his teeth. "There

was never any doubt. Reuel sponsored her as did Dr. Bronte,
her sister. Even if she had not had them as sponsors, the
council would not have dared do anything but make her a full
citizen. The unattached males would have been furious with
anything less, for then she would not have been required to
select males for her household."

Silenced reigned for several minutes. Kameron frowned.

"How old is this news?"

Damien glanced at him. "It has just come."
Kameron's lips flattened in irritation. "But was it delayed?"
Damien tapped the date at the bottom of the display. "No.

It is only two days old."

Kameron scanned his memory for the date and verified

that Damien was correct. "I would have thought she would
have gone before the council weeks ago," he said slowly.

"It is there," Damien said helpfully, tapping the lower

section of the article. "Her sister requested the delay. She
was not allowed to venture out because of the births—she is
human, you know. She wanted to attend and so it was
delayed until she was recovered enough her men thought her
well enough for such an occasion."

"It says that?"
Damien shrugged. "No. It says only that the men of her

sister's household requested the delay until their lady was
better."

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Kameron snorted, abandoning Damien's seat and returning

to his own. "Her sister is not very much like Zoe or she would
not have allowed her men to tell her when she could attend."

Damien thought that over. "You think, mayhap, that Zoe

requested the delay?"

"To what purpose?" Kameron demanded sharply.
The hopefulness in Damien's eyes flickered and went out.

"I was only thinking she might have delayed because she
wanted us to court her."

"We are not there, are we?" Kameron snarled, surging to

his feet to pace the length of the ship as restlessly as he had
before. He discovered Damien was glaring at him accusingly
when he made the return trip.

"It is not impossible," Damien growled. "I am certain she

was coming around to the idea near the end."

"You will make yourself insane if you persist in that train of

thought. She will have chosen long before we return."

"It is only two weeks more!" Damien snapped. "If she has

waited this long, I do not see that there is no possibility that I
am right!"

"You will make me insane if you persist. It says very

clearly that the delay was because of her sister's infirmity! I
can not fathom how you could arrive at the assumption that
she is waiting for us from that!" Kameron said angrily.

Damien studied him in fuming silence for several moments

until another thought occurred to him. "If we could not
convince her in nigh a month, I do not see how anyone there
will do so in less than two weeks. We have nearly four weeks
more practice than they have! It will give us an advantage!"

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"Over the hunters?" Kameron snarled. "First you insist that

she has not obtained citizenship because she was waiting
upon our return, and now it is 'she is not' but we will have an
advantage because we spent weeks trying to convince her
and could not!"

"How do you know we did not? We did not ask her! She

liked the flowers I gathered for her when I was running from
the mercenaries!"

"That is why she wept when you gave them to her!"
Damien's expression turned mulish. "She cuddled me and

she allowed me to fuck her the next morning when I had
recovered enough to do so!" A strange expression crossed his
face. "That is what is missing!"

Kameron glared at him. "The fucking? It has taken you this

long to figure out why your balls feel like they will explode?"

Damien narrowed his eyes at him. "It did not take half

long to figure that out!" he snapped. "It is Zoe I miss! That is
why I am melancholy."

Kameron dropped into his seat, scrubbing his hands over

his face. "I do not want to discuss it. I do not want to think
about it."

"I do not know how you can not think about it!" Damien

said tightly. "I can not think of much else."

"Try!" Kameron snarled.
Damien fell silent. It didn't last long. "When we return, I

will go to the house of her sister, and I will ask Zoe to
contract with me," he said decisively. "If she has not already
fully contracted."

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Kameron narrowed his eyes at his companion. "You are not

going to the house of her sister without me! If she has not
fully contracted, we will both go."

* * * *

"I do not know why you did not ask her when she brought

it up," Kyle growled angrily.

"She did not bring it up," Gavin snarled.
"She asked why we wanted to give her pleasure. That was

the time to ask her. Do not tell me you did not know that was
what I was urging you to do!"

"I did not ask her because it seemed damned poor timing

when we had only just managed to coax her into allowing us
to fuck that once. And Kameron had said we must convince
her before we asked. Why did you not ask yourself?" Gavin
demanded.

"You are better at such things than I. You have courted

before!"

Gavin glared at him. "I am not contracted!" he said testily.

"If I was good at it do you not think I would have a woman?"

Kyle stared at him. "You said that you had decided that

you did not want the woman," he said accusingly.

"I did."
"Then that does not count."
"Of course it counts!" Gavin snapped. "She did not want

me either! She had her eye set upon a hunter named Pierce."

Kyle studied him curiously. "Did you decide you did not

want her before she decided she wanted the hunter or after
she decided she wanted the hunter?"

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Gavin shrugged. "Before. She was a hunter, as well, and I

recalled that she had nearly taken my head off when we were
on Cloe's Moon. I know we have all taken oath to put such
things in the past where they belong, but I could not look at
her after the memory came back without also recalling the
look in her eyes. I thought I would have difficulty fucking her
if that memory were to surface at an inopportune moment
and I can not breed if I can not fuck!"

Kyle considered that in thoughtful silence. "You could have

fucked her from the back."

"Do you not think that she would begin to wonder why I

always wanted her not to look at me when I fucked her?"
Gavin demanded testily. "In any case, I could not conceive of
developing affection for her. That is supposed to be an
integral part of the family unit. It says so in the manual."

"I am not at all certain I understand this affection thing,"

Kyle said thoughtfully. "Is one supposed to feel it before,
during, or after the fucking?"

Gavin frowned. "I am not at all certain it has to do with the

fucking."

Kyle was aghast. "How could it not? Breeding is the most

important part of the family unit, else it is not truly a family,
and fucking is most certainly the most enjoyable part!"

"You are supposed to feel affection for off-spring!"
"Oh! I had not thought of that. Mayhap there is more than

one kind of affection?"

"I do not know why you are asking me!" Gavin snapped

impatiently. "I am certain I do not know. And I wish that you

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would stop talking about fucking! I am miserable enough
without having you harping upon it constantly!"

Kyle swiveled his seat to stare at Gavin, his eyes widening.

"You also?"

Gavin turned from his console and fixed Kyle with a

brooding look of violence.

A look of uneasiness flickered across Kyle's face and then a

thoughtful frown. "You are angry?" he guessed.

"You are observant!" Gavin growled.
Kyle stared at him blankly for a moment before a smile lit

his features. "That is a very nice compliment, particularly
when it is true because I am certain I am observant also!"

Gavin studied him suspiciously for a moment and finally

turned away to stare morosely at his instrument panel again.

"For instance, I have noticed you massage your balls

whenever I talk about sex. I had not connected the action
with 'miserable', but now that you mention it I see there is
definitely a correlation. I am not entirely certain why there
would be a connection, I confess. When I talk about it, very
pleasant images fill my mind that I enjoy. It seems to me that
it would be the same for you, but undoubtedly this is a part of
evolution of individuality. What I find pleasant and enjoyable
may not be so for you and vice versa."

Gavin hunched his shoulders and began to drum his

fingers on his console impatiently. "You said 'you also'," Gavin
growled. "Does that not mean that you are also miserable?"

"Not from talking about fucking. I am miserable because

Zoe is not here and I can not fuck her."

"It is the same thing!"

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"It is not! There is fucking in general and there is fucking

Zoe."

"I was thinking about Zoe!" Gavin snarled.
"Oh. You did not say that!"
"She is our woman! Why would I be thinking about

another?" Gavin bellowed, surging up from his seat to pace
restlessly along the corridor between the bridge and the main
cabin.

"Where are you going?" Kyle asked curiously.
"I am not going anywhere, damn it! I am pacing!"
"I do not see the point in that."
"Because there is no point?"
"Then why are you doing it?"
"To keep from killing you!" Gavin retorted, balling his

hands into fists and slamming them into the bulkhead.

Kyle studied him uneasily. "Why would you want to do

that?"

Gavin stopped pacing and studied him through narrowed

eyes. "I do not know but each time you begin to talk I have
images in my mind of wrapping my fingers around your throat
and squeezing until your eyes pop from you head!"

Kyle frowned. "Do you think that would happen? I do not

see it myself. Mayhap my tongue...."

Gavin uttered a low growl and began to pace again, more

rapidly.

"What did you mean by 'she is our woman'?" Kyle asked

after watching him for several moments. "She is not our
woman ... unless?"

"Do not look so hopeful! I did not ask her!"

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Kyle's expression was indignant. "Then why would you say

she is our woman!"

"Because I feel that she is my woman!" Gavin bellowed.
Kyle's jaw jutted belligerently. "Now you are saying she is

your woman! She is certainly my woman also if she is your
woman, if you are thinking that she is your woman because
you fucked her, because I also fucked her!"

"I did not say she was not your woman!" Gavin growled. "I

only said that I felt as if she was my woman because I do not
know how you feel, only the way that I feel!"

"Well I also feel as if she is my woman!" Kyle shot back at

him. "Unless you think she is not my woman because I fucked
her in the ass and not the pussy! Because I will tell you now I
still feel that I should have gotten the pussy and I would have
if you had not been underhanded and elbowed me in the
ribs!"

"It was not underhanded! She has only one pussy! There

was no other way to divide her. It was purely luck of the
draw!"

"It was not chance!" Kyle said angrily. "You knocked the

breath out of me and then took the position that I intended to
take!"

Gavin stopped, plunking his hands on his hips and glaring

at him. "You are not going to sit there and tell me you did not
enjoy it!"

"No, I am not!" Kyle growled. "But that does not change

the fact that there was no luck involved and it also does not
change the fact that I could not breed her from there! I am
the only one who did not get the chance to breed her at all

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and you had two chances!" He thought that over. "Everyone
had two chances except me!"

"You are not blaming that on me!" Gavin snarled,

outraged. "If you were left out, it is your fault!"

Kyle jolted to his feet and punched Gavin in the mouth.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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349

Chapter Twenty Four

Zoe felt vaguely ill as she watched Gideon and Gabriel

examining the box of chocolates with frowning intensity. She
didn't see how they could still eat them after all the
chocolates they'd already eaten in the past couple of weeks.
Even the thought of it made her feel nauseous.

The place reeked of candy.
And flowers.
She didn't think she would ever be able to enjoy

chocolates or flowers again!

Not that it actually was chocolate—not real chocolate,

anyway. As a synthetic, however, it was amazingly close.

"Feeling queasy again?" Bronte asked sympathetically.
Still, Zoe thought, but managed a weak smile. "Not really,"

she lied.

"You really shouldn't eat all of Zoe's chocolates," Bronte

said chidingly.

Gideon and Gabriel sent her a guilty look before glancing

at Zoe. "She said she did not want them," Gideon responded.

"No! I don't mind a bit." She just didn't want to watch

them.

As if reading her mind, Bronte shooed them out.

Shrugging, they each grabbed a box and wandered upstairs
to stare at the babies.

"I can't help but notice you really don't seem to be

enjoying the courting," Bronte said tentatively.

"It's that obvious, huh?" Zoe said tiredly.

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Bronte frowned. "Well ... I admit I hadn't expected it to be

quite so overwhelming when I suggested it." She shrugged.
"I'd already contracted with my men when I got here, so I
hadn't actually experienced the full scale of 'unattached
female' courtship. My courtship took place on the ship over,
which severely hampered their efforts, besides limiting the
number of males who could court me. Not that I didn't
thoroughly enjoy myself, mind you!" she ended with a
nostalgic smile and then giggled like a young girl. "They were
so ... but never mind that, we were discussing you."

A mixture of irritation and doubt flickered over Zoe's face.

"Actually, we weren't."

"Well, I meant to," Bronte corrected herself.
"Well, I don't especially want to!" Zoe retorted.
"That's what I wanted to discuss with you. Haven't you

met any you feel a special sort of ... magic with?"

"Since all this started? No," Zoe said forthrightly. "I can't

even remember their names or faces."

Bronte hid a smile. "What about before all this started?"

she asked innocently.

Zoe wasn't fooled. She glared at her sister.
It occurred to her abruptly how strange it was that she felt

so completely comfortable with her sister when they hadn't
actually known each for long at all. She enjoyed the
closeness—mostly. It was like having a best friend that you
could tell anything to and know they would never be
judgmental, whatever it was. At least, it was like she'd always
imagined it would be like to have a best friend. She'd never
actually had one she felt nearly as close to.

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And there were still things she didn't particularly want to

share, mostly because she was thoroughly confused about the
way she felt.

"You said you were fond of the guys that rescued you," she

prompted.

"Kidnapped me and blew up my ship—which wasn't paid

for—you mean!" Zoe retorted.

Bronte made a rude noise. "They didn't kidnap you, and

you know it. What were their names again?"

"Kameron and Damien."
"You said they were blond, right?"
"That was Gavin and Kyle."
"Oh, yeah! I can't keep them straight."
"Right!"
"Why don't you just admit you've already set your heart on

them and be done with it?"

"Because I don't know that I have," Zoe said shortly. "All I

said was they were drop dead gorgeous—sweet—funny—
mostly when they weren't trying to be—and real pains in the
ass about bossing me around and trying to 'protect' me!" She
brooded over it for several moments. "Except for Kameron
who stayed busy trying to 'lose' me!"

"I know it isn't my business, but I really think you should

settle on them, especially since one of them obviously got you
pregnant!"

Zoe sent her a startled look. She didn't know how Bronte

had figured that out when she'd only just come to the
conclusion she must be pregnant herself. "Puhlease!" she
snapped, irritated. "You are not that archaic!"

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Bronte frowned and then shrugged. "No, I'm not, but this

is a special situation, Zoe. You just don't realize how ...
important it is to them. I know back on Earth saying
'pregnant' was like the starting gun of a hundred meter race
and the men tried to see just how far, and how fast, they
could run the other way, but it's different for the cyborgs. I
don't know if it's because it's something they never expected
to have, or if it's just something special about them, but they
yearn for a home and off-spring! They would be devastated to
know one of them had fathered your child and you'd chosen
to contract with someone else."

Zoe sent her a skeptical look, but refrained from comment.
Bronte frowned. "Ok, so admittedly, they find it almost as

terrifying as thrilling. It's very disconcerting and nerve
wracking for them to deal with the frailty of infants, but you
have to admit they're patient and loving and completely
willing to learn parenting."

Zoe relented. "They adore the babies. I wasn't arguing

that, but your men adore you. If you asked them to walk
through fire they would. My situation isn't the same at all. I
am fond of them ... alright! Very fond!" she admitted at the
look Bronte sent her. "But I damned sure didn't see any sign
that they were fond of me—beyond being fond of fucking me!
They were real enthusiastic about that!"

Bronte chuckled. "I don't think they were the only ones

enthusiastic about it if you were only with them a few weeks
and managed to get knocked up!" she said dryly.

Zoe grinned. "Did I say I wasn't? I never said that!" She

sobered. "Maybe it's because my mother loved your father

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and he never loved her back, but I don't want to contract with
somebody—or several—who don't care anything about me. I
could love them very easily. They are so loveable! But I keep
thinking it would be worse to have to live with somebody day
in and day out and love them desperately and not get
anything in return!"

Bronte looked uncomfortable. "You aren't your mother and

they aren't my father, and I think you're shortchanging them.
They picked you, didn't they, to bestow all their ardor upon,
their feeble attempts at courtship, and all of their attention?"

"That's just the point!" Zoe snapped, surging up from her

seat on the couch and pacing to the window. "They didn't pick
me at all! I fell in their lap and they didn't have a woman and
they decided I'd do. They didn't have choices. If they had,
they wouldn't have picked me at all!"

"Exactly how do you think your situation differs from

mine?" Bronte demanded tightly.

Zoe sent her a startled look, then frowned. "It is different!

They picked you to kidnap."

"They took me because daddy was dead and they'd been

sent to extract a pediatrician—and I was handy! Then they
decided since the opportunity had fallen in their lap that
they'd contract with me. Maybe it sounds like they didn't have
a choice except me or nothing—like you think it was with you,
but you're wrong. It wasn't me or nothing anymore than it
was you or nothing. It's true there's a severe shortage of
available women here—that's the reason for the law—a
woman must chose no less that two, no more than four. But
there are still plenty of women here who have only two! There

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are even a couple who have only one—more who have three
and could take another.

"They might have limited choices, but they do have

choices—and they can chose not to have a female at all if
they don't find one that appeals to them—not their favorite
choice but there wouldn't be as many unattached males as
there are except that they have chosen to remain unattached
until they find a female they want."

She shrugged. "It's my opinion, right or not, that the

males of the household figure into it as much as the female.
They want to feel a 'family' unit bond with the other males, as
well, a brotherhood, if you will, with each other. Believe me,
there are a few households where the males don't feel that
connection and they are more like—battlegrounds than family
units.

"Your men already share a bond—like mine, or three of

mine anyway—they were originally a part of a squad, they
feel almost like brothers except the bond is stronger than
that, and they feel comfortable with the idea of sharing you."

Zoe turned from the window to favor Bronte with a

skeptical gaze. "I suppose that's why they stay busy pounding
on one another?"

Bronte waved a dismissive hand. "They're cyborgs—men—

overgrown children in a lot of ways. If they really wanted to
kill one another, they could. The aggressiveness is natural to
males anyway, and compound that with the fact that they
were designed to be killing machines—clashes are inevitable.
They rarely hold a grudge afterward. It's mostly just their
way of dealing with emotions they haven't learned to deal

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with. My men rarely brawl anymore. They know I don't like it
when they hurt one another, and they aren't as aggressive
since they know I love them. I think a lot of it was just ... fear
that they wouldn't be accepted and anxiety because they
didn't know how to go about winning acceptance and love.

"Yours were probably just taking out their frustrations on

one another."

Zoe rolled her eyes. "They aren't my men! They didn't ask

me to contract with them. They didn't even hint at it! In fact,
I don't think they ever stopped looking at me as 'the enemy'!"

"Well!" Bronte said briskly. "They'll have to get over it! You

picked them, and that's the way it works around here! And
one of them got you pregnant—you could find out which one,
but you don't want to break up the set anyway, so I don't see
that that matters. You love them. They obviously adore you
or they wouldn't have been trying to kill each other just to get
your attention. They are incredibly dense, or they would
already have asked you to contract—or maybe just shy, afraid
you'll turn them down—and they're obviously even worse at
courting than my men were—which is saying something—so
we'll just have to take matters into our own hands and settle
it.

"I don't think you can take much more courting! And I'm

sure I can't. The smell of chocolates and flowers is starting to
make me ill! Honest to god somebody needs to update their
courting list!"

Zoe smiled tremulously. "Damien brought me flowers," she

said wistfully. "I felt like beating him over the head with them

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because the dumb ass nearly got his ass shot off gathering
them."

Bronte stared at her in fascination for a moment and

finally chuckled. "Oh! That's a wonderful memory for you!"

"And Kameron very thoughtfully removed the rotting body

parts for me so they wouldn't 'alarm' me when I went to
search the wreckage for something useful."

"Ugh! But that was certainly very thoughtful! What did

Gavin and Kyle do for you?"

Zoe reddened to the roots of her hair.
Bronte held up her hand. "Don't tell ... Wait! Do! It must

have been something especially naughty and fun!"

Zoe cleared her throat. "It was."
"Oooh!" Bronte exclaimed, shivering. "Both at once? No!

Let's not talk about that. I can't have sex for at least another
couple of weeks. What else?"

Zoe shrugged. "It wasn't as if we were in a situation where

they actually could court in the 'normal' sort of way. Kyle
found me a book to read. Honestly, it was almost as bad as
the flowers. It was broken. I could only read half."

"Which half?"
"The ending."
"Oh well, that's better than only getting the first half."
"It wasn't really the things, you know?"
"It was the way they made you feel? Like you were the

most beautiful woman in the world, the sexiest—the center of
their universe?"

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Zoe nodded, then sighed. "Kameron told me I was

beautiful, and just the way he said it, the way he looked at
me when he said, I believed him."

"Because you are, and he meant it. He wouldn't have said

if he hadn't meant it. Oooh! I can't wait to meet them! Now,"
she added matter-of-factly, "we need to formulate our plans.
When are they due back?"

"Next week—I think."
Bronte grinned at her. "Think or know?"
Zoe reddened. "Know. I asked Reuel."
Bronte frowned thoughtfully. "Well, that doesn't give us

much time, but we'll make do. I really think you should pick
the estate next to ours. It's available and it would be nice to
live close enough to visit often—and, of course, we'll want our
children to get the opportunity to grow up together. There's
no house, of course, but the four of them—plus my men—
could build one very quickly. They're amazingly efficient!

"I think, in the meantime, we'll need to arrange for a

rental in the city. I'd love to have you here, but three babies
just aren't going to be conducive to newly contracted
partners!"

Zoe held up her hand. "I'm flat broke! I only the have

clothes I arrived in and I don't have a job! I don't even know
what I could do here that would be useful. I'm a detective.
They wouldn't happen to have any use for one, would they?"

Bronte waved that away. "You've got plenty of time. You're

a new citizen and a desirable one. You're entitled to the land.
Your men can handle the expense of the house and we will

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furnish the rental as a contractual gift. Until you have time to
find your niche, you can help me with my practice."

"I'm not a doctor!"
"You don't need to be. There isn't actually much call for

one. Mostly, I teach parenting classes."

"I don't know anything about parenting either," Zoe said

dryly.

"You know more than they do, poor things! At least you

have your own childhood to draw from—which is something
they don't have—and I'll be there. There's no time like the
present to learn yourself!"

That seemed inarguable—and scary. She wasn't even

absolutely certain she was pregnant. She thought she was,
but that wasn't the same as knowing.

"We'll go into the city tomorrow and look around for a

comfortable domicile for you and your men until they can
build the new house, and then we'll go and see about getting
the contracts drawn up."

Zoe stared at her. "Wait! We skipped a seriously important

part! They haven't asked me."

"Well! We can't be bothered with waiting for them to get

around to it, Zoe! We'll make the arrangements. What are
they going to say?"

"No?"
"No, they won't! They'll be good little cyborgs and sign the

dotted line! My nephew—or niece—will have their fathers!"

* * * *

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Kameron's expression was grim as he watched Gavin and

Kyle stride down the gangway to the tarmac where he and
Damien waited. They both looked as grim faced and pale as
he felt, which made him wonder if they knew something he
did not.

Gavin flicked an uneasy glance at the four grim faced men

ranged behind Damien and Kameron. Dressed in formal
military attire—the regulation jumpsuit—they stood stiffly at
attention. They'd dressed in their own flight suits when they'd
received the orders to appear in the council chambers as soon
as they had returned. It only added to his discomfort. "We are
under guard?" he muttered in a low voice he hoped would not
carry to the guards.

Kameron shrugged. "Apparently so. You do not know what

this is about?"

"I thought you would."
"I was only told that we were to report to the council

chambers when we arrived," Kameron returned grimly.

"We were given the same orders—and nothing more," Kyle

said uneasily. "You are certain you do not know why?"

Kameron shrugged. "I think we must assume that we are

to be debriefed regarding the incident, but I do not know why
they would wait until we had finished rotation to do so if they
are considering charges."

They turned as they heard the guards approach and fell

into formation, four abreast. The guards did likewise,
marching directly behind them.

"They have said something and they have gotten us all

into trouble," Damien said angrily.

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Gavin, who had fallen into step next to Kameron, slid a

brief glare in his direction. "We have said nothing!" he
growled. "We have not seen anyone since we returned to
post!"

"If they did not know we had done anything to be

concerned about, they will if you two keep it up!" Kameron
snapped.

"I am only saying it is not our fault if anything was done

that should not have been done!" Damien muttered.

"Mayhap it was something not done!" Kyle put in.
The comment produced silence where Damien's accusation

had not while the four pondered the incident and tried to
decide if there was anything readily apparent about the
situation when Reuel had arrived. Nothing came to mind.
They were well aware that they had not repaired the Omega
as quickly as they could have, but they were equally certain
that it could not have been obvious that they had not. They
had had to scavenge parts. Reuel, they were certain, could
not possibly have assessed how long that should have taken
them any more than he could have known the extent of the
damage they had had to deal with.

Expecting an investigation, it was no great surprise to

discover that Reuel was in attendance when they arrived at
the council's chambers and were escorted in. What was a
shock was that there were no other council members present,
but Zoe was, as was another woman who looked remarkably
similar to her.

Dumbfounded, the four came to a halt inside the door and

exchanged questioning looks.

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Their escorts, they discovered, had followed them inside.

The four 'guards' moved to the woman they didn't know and
ranged themselves behind her.

The stranger looked them over critically and turned to Zoe.

"Are these the men who knocked you up?"

Zoe's face turned as red as fire. She sent them an

apologetic look. She cleared her throat and nodded.

Kameron, feeling distinctly uneasy, looked at the others.
"What's knocked up?" Kyle asked in a loud whisper.
"Well?" Reuel asked. "Do you have anything to say for

yourselves?"

Kameron swallowed a little convulsively. "I am not certain

what the question is, sir."

Reuel's expression hardened. "Are you or are you not

responsible for this young woman's condition?"

Conscience stricken, Kameron stared at Zoe uneasily,

feeling the blood flood his face until it was pulsing
uncomfortably and then wash away until he felt dizzy. He
could not see that there was anything at all wrong with her,
however, and wrack his brain though he might he could not
think of anything he might have done to cause her to have a
condition. He looked at the others for help, but Gavin,
Damien, and Kyle looked as horrified and confused as he was.

"Well, soldiers?" Reuel barked.
Kameron shifted uneasily, trying to formulate some

answer, any answer.

Reuel nodded his head ever so slightly.
Realizing that was his cue to accept responsibility,

Kameron nodded.

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"A verbal response for the record—from all of you!"
"Yes, sir!" they all said on command almost in unison.
Zoe looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. She

covered her face with her hands.

"Good!" Reuel said, rising and shoving a tablet in their

direction. "Sign on the dotted line. Dr. Bronte, you'll witness?"

Zoe's sister? Kameron thought blankly. Witness what?
Moving stiffly to the table, he stared down at the tablet,

trying to focus enough to read it. A wave of dizziness washed
over him as he read the first few lines. Certain he had read
wrong, he read it again and then looked around the room in
confusion.

"It is a contract for cohabitation."
"Of course," Reuel said, grinning now. "What did you think

it was?"

A prison sentence?
He glanced at Gavin. "It is a contract for cohabitation."
Gavin blinked at him and snatched the tablet from

Kameron's lax grip. He looked up after a moment and directly
at Zoe. "You are contracting with us?" he asked, a wide grin
on his lips.

"Let me see that!" Damien demanded, making a grab for

it. Kyle beat him to it.

Gavin glared at him. "I have not signed yet!"
"I was first!" Kameron growled.
"Gentlemen!" Dr. Bronte said chidingly. "Ladies first! You

do want to be sure she's willing to sign with you, don't you?"

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Kameron snatched the tablet from Kyle and set it down in

front of Zoe, crouching beside her. "You will sign?" he asked
anxiously.

She sent him an uncomfortable look. "You want me to?"
His gaze flickered over her face. "Yes."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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364

Chapter Twenty Five

Bronte stood up. "I think we should give them a few

minutes together to settle everything," she said briskly.
Flicking a smiling glance over her shoulder at her men, she
moved regally toward the door. Caleb surged forward to offer
his arm for support. Gideon, Gabriel, and Jerico bent down to
retrieve the baskets at their feet and followed Caleb and
Bronte.

Zoe was peripherally aware of the exodus toward the door,

which included Reuel. She was grateful to be free of an
audience. At the same time, she was distinctly uneasy about
being left alone with 'her' men.

She didn't know why she'd allowed Bronte to talk her in to

this! Actually, she thought with a good bit of resentment,
Bronte had bulldozed her into it! She hadn't been comfortable
with the idea any of the time.

Kameron pulled her chair away from the table and turned

it to face outward—him, Gavin, Damien, and Kyle. She tried
not to look as uncomfortable as she felt as the four of them
knelt around her. "Reuel was joking," she burst out. "Well,
not exactly joking, but he didn't intend to put you guys on the
spot. He thought you wanted to ... to contract with me. God
knows where he got the idea! I swear I didn't tell him....
Unless Bronte did." She frowned. "But if she did, it wasn't
because I told, because I didn't!"

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She glanced from one face to the next to see how they'd

taken that. All she saw was confusion. She supposed she'd
been babbling. Maybe she should try to explain it again?

Kameron's dark brows collided over his nose. "You do not

want to contract with us?" he asked slowly.

"Oh no! I mean, yes! That is, I do if you want to! Do you

want to?"

The four men exchanged looks, which she found

impossible to interpret.

"I was just saying you didn't have to if you don't want to.

I'll understand."

They still looked bemused. She finally decided it wasn't her

babbling. They were still in a state of shock, poor babies.
She'd wanted to sink through the floor when she first saw
their faces. She could tell they thought they were in trouble.
Obviously, they were having a hard time accepting that they
actually weren't and that this was Bronte's stupid idea of
romance!

Kameron seemed to shake his confusion. He lifted a hand

to her cheek, caressing it lightly. "I have missed you. Will you
contract with me?"

Zoe felt her anxiety drain away. She smiled at him mistily

and threw her arms around his neck. "Yes! I've missed you,
too! You're certain?" she asked, searching his eyes as she
pulled away again.

He grinned at her, chuckling shakily. "I am very, very

certain."

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She turned to look at Gavin questioningly since he was

directly beside Kameron. He smiled at her almost shyly and
opened his mouth.

"If you will have me also, I will be very honored and very

happy!" Damien said quickly.

Gavin clamped his lips together and turned to glare at

Damien. Pretending not to notice, Zoe cupped his face in her
hands and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I would love sign
with you!"

She returned her attention to Gavin. He gave her a

reluctant grin and started to speak again.

"I am your man if you will have me, Zoe!" Kyle said

quickly, shoving at Gavin's shoulder and edging in front of
him. "Say you will contract with me!"

She leaned toward him to kiss him lightly on the lips as

she had Damien. "Yes, Kyle!"

Gavin was regarding the others sullenly when she pulled

away from Kyle. Shoving Kyle out of the way, he grabbed her
and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "You are already my
woman in my heart and mind! I will despair and go into a
decline if you tell me no!"

Zoe chuckled. She was on the point of asking him where

he'd read such a pretty speech but decided against it when
she saw that, despite his flamboyant delivery there was
anxiousness in his eyes. She uttered a heartfelt sigh. "That
was so romantic! Yes!"

She noticed Kameron and Damien were glaring at Gavin

when she settled back in her chair.

"What is knocked up?"

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She turned quickly to look at Kyle's confused face.
"This is the condition Reuel spoke of?" Kameron asked

worriedly. "It is nothing bad?"

Zoe covered her mouth with her hand. She didn't know

whether to laugh or cry. She'd half feared they'd asked
because she was pregnant, and they hadn't even figured out
that was what they were being accused of! She supposed this
didn't count as a shotgun joining if they had no idea that was
what it was.

Abruptly anxious that they might not consider that good

news, she looked at them uncomfortably. "It means I'm going
to have a baby."

Stunned most nearly described their expressions. Even as

she began to feel very unhappy about it, though, she saw a
beginning gleam of excitement in Kameron's eyes, Damien's,
Gavin's—Excitement flickered over Kyle's face and then
disappointment. "It is not mine," he said unhappily.

It took her a moment to figure out why he would say such

a thing, and then, abruptly, she remembered. She bit her lip.
He looked so disappointed it made Zoe ache, made her long
to promise him she would have a baby just for him.

It gave her a jolt to realize the thought was heartfelt,

real—not just a fabrication she'd thought up to make him feel
better. She'd never thought about having children at all!
She'd always put her career first, considered it the focal point
of her life.

Now she was not only pregnant, but thinking about 'future'

babies?

She must have lost her mind!

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She couldn't resist hugging him, though. "It's our baby,"

she murmured, kissing his cheek before she pulled away to
look at him.

She was relieved to see that, although he still looked

forlorn, he managed to smile at her. He glanced at the others.
"We are having a baby!"

They grinned at one another for about five seconds.
"Fuck!" Kameron said abruptly. "We do not even have a

domicile for our family! How long does it take to make one?"

Zoe blinked at him. "Uh ... A house?"
He frowned. "A baby."
"Uh ... I'll have to ask Bronte."
They didn't seem to think it strange she didn't know. "We

will have to petition for land. We can not all live in the
barracks!"

She looked at Gavin uncomfortably. "I already did," she

mumbled, expecting some comment about her being very
sure of herself.

Instead, they looked relieved. "Well, that is that much

done, at least!"

Feeling a little less uncomfortable she added the

information that Bronte had arranged a place for them to stay
temporarily.

Kameron looked thoughtful. "Is this furnished?"
"I think so."
"We will still need to gather our personal belongings from

the barracks and it is near sundown now. We should take care
of this," Gavin said decisively.

"Uh ... shouldn't we sign the contracts first?"

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"It slipped my mind," Gavin said sheepishly.
"Where are the witnesses?"
As if Bronte had been listening at the door, which Zoe

strongly suspected she had been, she entered the room,
smiling brightly. "Everything settled?"

They were adorably rattled, Zoe reflected, all four of

them—not that she wasn't so nervous she felt faint! They
were in such good spirits, however, that the tiny niggling
doubts that had remained were banished. She'd never seen
them smile so much. Bronte's men congratulated them and
then they congratulated each other and finally her. She
managed to keep from laughing until Kyle, after looking
around as if he was searching for something, asked if they
were supposed to consummate the agreement there or later.
Damien and Kameron glared at him. Gavin punched him on
the shoulder.

"Later!" Bronte told him, her eyes dancing with barely

contained laughter. "First we are all going out to celebrate
and then we will show you the house we picked out for your
contractual gift and leave the five of you to get better
acquainted."

"What does she mean by that?" Kyle asked Gavin in a loud

whisper as they left the council chambers.

Gavin elbowed him in the ribs.
"Why did you do that?"
"I will explain it later."
"You do not know yourself!" Kyle said irritably, massaging

his ribs.

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The babies, who'd behaved like perfect angels throughout

the proceedings, decided to wake up and howl to be fed the
moment they sat down in the restaurant. Zoe tensed
immediately, certain the celebration was about to be over
before it had even started but, like a well oiled machine,
Gideon, Gabriel, and Jerico bent down to retrieve babies and
bottles from the baskets, tucked the howling demons in one
arm and plugged the holes.

Peace descended and everyone relaxed.
Zoe couldn't help but notice that her men were

mesmerized by the babies, or maybe horrified by the fact that
three renowned warriors were sitting across from them
discussing the latest incursion by the company and the steps
being taken to prevent another one while bottle feeding their
infants. Pretending she didn't notice the furtive glances
toward her belly, she asked Reuel if he would consider
allowing her to investigate the crimes of the company and
compile what she could in the way of evidence.

"To what purpose?"
Zoe shrugged. "I know you aren't really that worried about

the company or the federation, but right is right. There's
always the possibility that if the company was prosecuted
successfully and the truth came out, it would end any
possibility of a war between them and us. I mean, you want
peace and you have a right to it. It just seems to me that the
best way to preserve it is to make sure the company has no
incentive to start one. Right now, they think they're
protecting themselves from prosecution by persecuting the
cyborg nation. Remove the possibility that they can 'bury'

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their mistakes and there'd no reason for them to hire
mercenaries, even if they were still able to and could afford
it."

Reuel studied her thoughtfully for several minutes. "I will

promise nothing, but I will speak to the council."

"It is a good notion," Gideon spoke up. "I do not mind the

fighting and I am certain none of our soldiers do, and yet
there are other things that we could accomplish if it were not
necessary to remain always on alert for attack. I also do not
mind saying I would like not to have to worry about my family
when I am not here."

Bronte patted his arm and smiled at him lovingly.
He grinned at her, waggling his brows suggestively and

she looked away with a blush that drew a chuckle from him.

Setting the baby's bottle down on the table, he lifted the

infant to his shoulder and began to pat his back carefully. A
few moments later an inelegant burp erupted from the baby's
mouth. Unfortunately, that wasn't all. A frozen look moved
over Gideon's face a split second before a scowl replaced it.
"Fuc—goodness!" Gideon growled when he met Bronte's
censorious gaze.

He stood up abruptly. "If you will excuse me?" he said

politely and stepped away from the table.

"I do not mind telling you, young man, that I do not find

this at all humorous! If you did not want the fuck ... milk, you
should not have drank it to start with!"

Gabriel and Jerico exchanged a look and then reached

down to retrieve a spare diaper from their baskets, tossing it

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across their shoulders before they cautiously moved their
bundles of joy to their shoulders to burp them.

Bronte smiled apologetically at the guests around the

table. "Corin always eats too fast."

Their dinner had arrived before Gideon, now wearing

nothing more than his loincloth and with water dripping from
his hair, returned and settled in his seat. He sent Bronte a
'don't you dare say anything' look when she glanced at him.
She smiled at him and made kissing motions and he looked
slightly mollified. Settling his now sleeping infant in his
basket, he focused on his food with enough gusto that it was
obvious the little incident hadn't dampened it.

It hadn't particularly disturbed her either, but she was

nervous since it had dawned on her that she was facing being
completely alone with her men once they'd finished eating.
She didn't know why she was nervous. It wasn't as if she
hadn't lived with them for weeks, been intimate with all of
them. Somehow, though, the contract made the situation
entirely different.

It was the commitment thing, she realized almost

immediately.

It made her feel more 'trapped' than she'd felt when she'd

been marooned on the planet with them.

She'd wanted this, she reminded herself. She could handle

it if Bronte could!

It would've been four times easier to handle, though, if it

was only one!

She shook the thoughts off, trying to focus on her food.

She was scaring herself for nothing. She knew she was. They

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didn't know any more about this than she did. It was going to
be awkward for all of them until they got used to sharing
space and working together.

Bronte and Caleb escorted them to the house they'd

arranged for them. Reuel had offered his congratulations
again and returned to his own home after the celebration
dinner and Gideon, Gabriel, and Jerico had taken the babies
home.

Bronte hugged her when they reached the walkway to the

house. "Have fun!" she whispered in Zoe's ear before she
released her and patted her cheek. "I'm so glad to have my
little sister here!"

Slipping her arm through Caleb's, she waved and strolled

away with him.

Zoe looked up at her squad uneasily. "I guess we're home

for now."

For a moment, they looked as uncertain as she felt.

Abruptly, Kameron scooped her into his arms and started up
the walk. "This is a very ancient Earth custom," he told her.

Sighing, Zoe settled her arms around his neck. "Is it?

What's it for?"

"I have no idea," Kameron responded, climbing the steps

to the porch and then looking around expectantly at the
others, who'd trailed behind them. Gavin stared at him
blankly for a moment and finally moved around them to open
the door. Kameron strode past him, looked the house over
cursorily and headed down the hall. "Where is the bedroom?"

Zoe couldn't keep from smiling although she was torn

between new doubts and her own desires. Resolutely, she

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refused give substance to the doubts. It had been weeks
since they'd seen each other. She was as anxious as he was
to enjoy the physical side of their relationship. It didn't mean
that was all he cared about—she hoped.

He found the bedroom, or the first, without any difficulty—

not surprising since the house was small and basic—living
area, kitchen and dining, two baths and three bedrooms. The
odds were in his favor.

Damien, Gavin, and Kyle followed them inside. Kameron

paused by the bed to glare at them. "Rank leads," he said
flatly. "Tonight is my night, tomorrow yours, then you, and
you. She is our woman now." The trio glared at him and then
one another. Since Gavin, apparently, was second, he
shrugged after only a moment.

"He is right. Order and discipline."
Damien and Kyle were obviously still unhappy about the

arrangement.

Zoe decided to express her independence and individuality,

thereby sticking her foot in her mouth. "Don't I have a say in
this?"

She gained the attention of all four instantly.
Which was when it occurred to her that choosing was the

surest way to make them jealous of one another—assuming
they would be. It would certainly make some of them feel as
if she cared more for one than another.

She smiled weakly as that dawned on her. "As much as I'd

love to have everyone in my bed at once, the bed isn't big
enough and ... and I really like the idea of spending the whole

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night with each of you ... individually. Will you be angry with
me if we take it slowly—at first, anyway?"

She could see they still wanted to challenge the pecking

order, but, after studying her enigmatically for several
moments, they left Kameron in sole possession of her and the
bed.

He surprised her. Instead of tossing her onto the bed and

following her down, he set her carefully on her feet and
examined her thoroughly with his gaze and hands. "I like this
thing," he said, touching the swatch of material that covered
her breasts lightly with a fingertip.

Zoe glanced down at the two piece garment Bronte had

assured her was typical for cyborg women. Although the style
and color varied distinctly from one to another, the basic
design was the same. The top was little more than two
triangles of fabric that covered, and actually supported, each
breast, held together with thin strips of cloth that tied around
her neck and beneath her breasts. The bottom was almost as
scanty—a snug fitting swatch that covered her genital area
and nothing more, though a long, sheer 'skirt' was sewn to
the top and draped nearly to her ankles. She was wearing the
traditional 'union' colors, which was also the colors of the
cyborg nation, black and gold.

She'd thought it an odd custom when Bronte had explained

it—to wear the same colors at a contracting, but somehow
the fact that she and her men had all been wearing the same
colors almost seemed to emphasize their joining more than
the contract, making them a 'matched set'.

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She lifted her head to look up at him. Realizing abruptly

that it was the fact that the men had all worn flight suits that
had unnerved her almost as much as anything else about the
proceedings. She was so accustomed, now, to the sight of
them wearing nothing but the loincloth they generally wore
that the suits almost made them seem like strangers.

Oddly enough, it made them seem taller, broader—more

like the dangerous cyborg soldiers she knew they were than
the lovers she'd been so comfortable with when they'd been
marooned together.

She smiled a little shakily. "You look so handsome in your

uniform."

To her surprise, his face darkened with color at the

compliment. "You think I am handsome?"

The uncertainty in the question was almost more

surprising than the blush. She lifted her hand to his hard
cheek, stroking it. "Very handsome," she assured him.

He lifted a hand to her cheek, stroking it as she had his.

"Then our off-spring is certain to be handsome for his mother
is beautiful."

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, she thought wryly as

she remembered the ancient saying. For the first time,
though, she realized what it really meant—she hoped. It was
the heart that saw the beauty, not the eyes. That must surely
be the case now because she was a long way from beautiful.

Before she could savor the thought, it dawned on her that

he thought she was carrying his baby.

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And maybe she was, but she didn't know, and he

couldn't—but he was bound to be disappointed if he was
wrong.

And she couldn't bear the thought of his disappointment

any more than she'd been able to stand the look of
unhappiness on Kyle's face when he'd realized that the baby
certainly wasn't his.

For a moment, she felt overwhelmed by the magnitude of

her commitment. It wasn't that she hadn't already felt pretty
overwhelmed. Contracting with four men certainly wasn't the
'norm' on Earth. She'd heard they did on some of the more
remote colonies, although that was, more often than not, one
man with multiple female partners, but it wasn't a concept
she was used to—particularly since she'd never even
contracted with one man before.

It wasn't the legal document, though, she realized. It was

the way she felt about them.

She was more than fond, she realized, feeling a little

dismayed. It wouldn't seem vitally important to make them
happy if she was merely fond.

She turned her face into his palm and, instead of

confirming or denying his hope, she gave him what she could.
"I love you," she whispered, placing a kiss in the center of his
palm.

He stared at her, stunned, when she lifted her head to look

up at him, his gaze roaming her face as if searching for some
sign that it was the truth. After a moment, he swallowed a
little convulsively. "You love me?" he asked a little hoarsely.
"It is something I did?"

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Affection, amusement, and a little disappointment settled

inside her. She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms
around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. She
could hear his heart pounding erratically beneath her cheek.
"It's you—it's everything you did," she said, turning her face
to kiss his chest. "Why else do you think I wanted to contract
with you?"

He encircled her with his arms, holding her lightly. "I had

not had time to consider why," he said honestly. "I had
thought we were facing charges for dereliction of duties when
we were summoned, or at least something of that nature. I
was ... surprised to find out it was to sign contracts instead—
but happy," he assured her quickly.

He shifted his hands to the sides of her head, tipping her

head back so that she was looking up at him again. His
expression lightened. A slow smile began with the faint
curling of his lips and spread until his eyes crinkled at the
corners. He pulled away after a moment but she discovered it
was only to draw her onto the bed. He settled her close
against his frame, wrapping her in his arms again. "Explain
how this feels."

She was disconcerted, almost sorry she'd said anything at

all. It would've been easier to yield to passion and get
wrapped up in the delight of physical love. She was tempted
to tell him she'd show him instead, but she didn't think he
could tell the difference between fucking and making love.
"It's something a person just knows," she said a little
irritably.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twenty Six

"I do not just 'know'," Kameron said in a rumbling growl

that indicated both frustration and discomfort.

Because he didn't feel it?
That wasn't fair, though, she realized. People thought they

'just knew' because they couldn't remember they'd been
taught to know what it felt like almost from the moment they
drew their first breath and were cuddled in the loving arms of
their mother. They drew in the scent of love—mother. They
felt the warmth of her life, the gentle caress of her hands, the
comfort of her nurturing, the protection of her arms and they
knew what love was—being protected, comforted, nurtured,
touched in a certain way that gave them a sense of security.
That was why the 'feeling' of love wasn't sexual, she realized
in surprise. It was recognition that that person represented
the most basic animal need—survival.

That was why it was so hard to explain in words and why

he didn't really understand. Definitions without a concept to
relate to were just more words.

"You made me feel safe and protected. You rescued me

from the ship before it blew up. You carried me down the
mountain to protect me from falling and getting hurt. You
carried me through the jungle because I couldn't see well
enough to find my own way. You kept me with you, even
though you thought you would get in trouble for doing it,
because you were more concerned that I would be hurt than
you were for yourself.

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"You made me feel beautiful because you desired me. You

made me feel special and important because you enjoyed
touching me and making love to me.

"And when I left, I felt as if I was missing something very

important to my happiness. I missed seeing you, touching
you, just being near you where I could hear your voice.
Because when I was with you I was comforted and when you
were away I felt ... lost."

She fell silent, realizing that everything she'd said had

made her feel loved and that was why she loved him.

That was why she loved all of them, because they'd been

so careful of her, so protective. She hadn't just felt safe with
them, she'd felt completely safe from hunger, and threat, and
want, because of them.

She'd been so busy assuring herself that she was merely

tolerating them to achieve her goal—to get to Bronte—that
she could take care of herself, that she didn't need them
beyond the fact that they could take her to Bronte. It hadn't
occurred to her that she would've been terrified on that alien
world by herself. She knew how to take care of herself on
home turf—run down to the grocery store to get food, turn up
the thermostat if she was cold, turn it down if she was hot,
use her wits and her self-defense skills if she encountered a
'bad guy' who was a threat, and call for backup if she thought
she couldn't handle it alone.

"That is why I was so miserable," Kameron said abruptly,

tipping her face up so that she had to look at him. "I knew
that I missed fucking you, because my cock would not stay
down and my balls felt as if they would blow up. That was not

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hard to understand because of the discomfort. I knew it was
not just that, though. Damien kept saying that he felt as if
something was missing, that he had lost something, until I
wanted to punch him in the face—and did a few times."

Zoe didn't know whether to be horrified or amused. She

supposed she was both. She chuckled. "So you both missed
me?"

"Yes—very much. I thought—we both thought—that you

would choose someone else while we were stuck in space and
could not come here to try to convince you to contract with us
and I was so angry I could not think of much else—besides
my balls."

Zoe laughed. "Are they still bothering you?"
"Yes—more now."
She nipped at his earlobe and then sat up and began to

undress. "I think we should do something about that, then,
don't you?"

He rolled from the bed and stripped his flight suit off

almost before she could get the words out of her mouth. She
studied his nude form with frank admiration as he climbed
back into the bed. "Oh my, that does look painful," she
murmured with a mixture of affectionate amusement and
shivery desire. "Should I kiss them and make them better?"

He looked down at his balls in frowning speculation as he

massaged them. "I am not at all certain that would be wise. I
think that they might explode in your face."

Zoe couldn't prevent a chuckle. "Maybe we should just

take the edge off first, then?"

* * * *

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As delightful as Zoe had found it 'getting better

acquainted' with her men, as disinclined as she was to
complain when Kameron, Gavin, and Damien proved
conclusively that they were capable of taking her to the
heights of pleasure over and over no matter how convinced
she was that she was completely sated, there was no getting
around the fact that she was completely exhausted from
enjoying herself by Kyle's night, and sore as hell besides. She
tried to hide it for his sake, but he was a lot more observant
than she'd given him credit for.

"You are hurt?"
"A little sore," she admitted with wry amusement. "I'm not

really used to all of the 'exercise' I've had lately, but the only
way to get used to it is to do it." Mentally, she winced at the
way that came out, but she'd already admitted she was
sore—because he'd noticed she was creeping around like an
old woman. She didn't know of any other way to reassure him
that she was willing, regardless.

She thought she saw a flicker of disappointment in his

eyes, but he looked away. "I will massage you and take away
the soreness," he said decisively.

The massage sounded good. "I might fall asleep if you

relax me too much," she warned him with amusement.

"That will be alright," he said, touching her face lightly.

"You are my woman now. There will be another time to
pleasure you. I am not accustomed to having a woman, so it
will not bother me to wait."

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Liar, she thought. If the others had suffered discomfort

from abstinence, he would have, too, and there was no doubt
in her mind that they'd needed release. As selfish as she
knew it was, though, she didn't argue. I'll make it up to him
later, she told her nagging conscience.

By the time he'd finished massaging her, she discovered

she wasn't going to need to. The stroke of his hands along
her shoulders, arms, and back, pulled the soreness and
tension from her, but by the time he'd massaged her feet and
legs, she was primed—thoroughly relaxed, drowsy, but also
feeling a warming buzz of anticipation in the region of her
womb. She rolled on her side to face him when he finished
and settled on the bed beside her.

"That was very nice," she murmured, nibbling a trail along

his throat to his chest.

His hand stilled mid-stroke in the center of her back. "You

should not do that," he warned in a strangled voice.

She smiled against his pec. "Why not? You're my man.

Can't I kiss you if I want to?"

"I like to hear you say that," he said in a hoarse whisper.
"Which part?"
He swallowed audibly. "That I am your man."
She pushed at his shoulders until he obligingly rolled onto

his back. "I like the sound of it, too," she murmured, climbing
on top of him and continuing her leisurely exploration of his
chest and throat. "I like the way you smell, and taste, and
feel, too."

His breathing became ragged, hitching in his chest each

time she touched a particularly sensitive spot, the air rushing

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from his lungs in short expulsions. "I like the way you smell,
and taste, and feel, also," he said in a strained voice. "I have
not thought of much else since I learned it, except...."

"Except?" she prompted him with amusement, expecting

him to tell her he'd been horny. He surprised her.

"The sounds of pleasure you made when I touched you,

the way you would smile at me sometimes, the expression I
saw on your face when we were ordered to leave you. I
thought about that most of all. It felt ... worse than wrong. I
knew that you were not my woman, but I felt that it was my
duty to protect you and that I had failed you. You will think it
strange—I do—but images kept forming in my mind of things
that might have happened if Reuel had not taken you and we
had been forced to leave you there. It made me feel—ill, and
angry, and—helpless, the images, even though they were not
true images, not something that had happened."

Zoe felt emotion clog her throat as she sat up to stare at

his face in the dimness. She shifted upwards and bent her
head to nibble lightly, teasingly at his lips. "Make love to me."

Surprise flickered in his eyes and then his dark blond

brows drew together. "Is this like fucking?" he asked
cautiously.

Smiling, she nuzzled her face against. "Yes, but even

better."

She could tell from his expression that he couldn't conceive

of anything better.

"It's feeling love for the person you're fucking," she

explained teasingly.

"Oh," he said, not sounding the least bit enlightened.

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"It's like ... the difference between tasting something you

like and tasting something special that you really, really like."

He tipped her onto her back and rolled over her. "Oh," he

said, enlightened. "Then I will make love to you again,
because I really, really enjoyed fucking you!"

* * * *

"Oh my," Bronte cooed, watching the eight men currently

sluicing water over themselves in a half-hearted attempt to
clean some of the grime from their labors off before joining
them on the blankets they'd spread for a picnic luncheon.
"They look yummier than anything we brought in those
baskets."

"Mmm," Zoe agreed, admiring her men. "Mine are

prettier," she said provocatively.

Bronte sent her a look but refused to baited. "You seem ...

content. I'm glad."

Zoe made a wry face. "Except for this," she said, patting

the huge mound her belly had become. "You're sure it's
supposed to grow this fast?"

"You're complaining that the baby's maturing at an

accelerated rate? You're spoiled! If you'd ever endured a
'normal' pregnancy, you'd appreciate the fact that it doesn't
take nearly as long to gestate a cyborg baby!"

"As if you'd know!" Zoe quipped. "I know I shouldn't

complain, but it's spoiling my fun! I was just really starting to
enjoy romping with them and now they act like they think I'll
break if they aren't very careful!"

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Bronte laughed. "Be glad it's only one. I thought I was

going to explode!"

Zoe turned her attention to the three babies exploring the

blankets around them and trying to figure out how to get
their feet under them. Occasionally, one or another would
manage to push himself upright, would teeter for a moment,
and then crash again. "It seems so ... odd to see them trying
to walk when they're so young."

Bronte shrugged. "It would be odd if they were human

babies. They're not. They're a lot stronger and they're
developing all of their motor skills much more quickly. It
almost makes me sad, even though I'm delighted with their
progress—and of course their daddies are," she said with a
chuckle. "The cyborgs in general find it very disturbing that
their young are so weak and helpless and my men are
certainly no different. They haven't said so—not straight out—
but I could tell it made them anxious."

Bronte flicked a glance toward the men again. Seeing

they'd finished bathing and were heading their way, she shot
Zoe another speculative look. "Any regrets?"

Zoe looked at her in confusion for a moment. When it

dawned on her what Bronte was asking, she turned her gaze
to her men. "None," she said without hesitation. "I still
wonder sometimes when they tell me they love me if they
really understand what it is, but I feel loved and I love them
and that's all that really matters."

Bronte smiled. "They completely understand and they

really know what it is. They learned it from you."

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Zoe looked away before Bronte could see the doubts that

still lingered in her eyes. She was content, she told herself as
she looked up at Kameron and Gavin as they reached her and
dropped to the blanket beside her. She would just be more
content if she was certain they loved her as much as she did
them.

Which might be difficult since she seemed to love them

more every day.

Kameron rubbed a hand lightly over her belly and then

leaned down to place a kiss there before he met her doubtful
gaze with a grin and dragged her close to kiss her thoroughly
on the lips. Gavin was focused on emptying the basket of food
she'd brought. Damien knelt on the other side of the basket.

Kyle settled behind her, and when Kameron released her,

he dragged her back to rest against his chest for support and
wrapped his arms around her. "Your back hurts you?" he
murmured against her hair.

She twisted her head to look up at him, surprised he'd

noticed her discomfort, although she didn't know why. They
always 'noticed' everything, and Kyle was particularly
perceptive.

"Not really," she lied.
He lifted his blond brows questioningly. "What is 'not

really'? No? Or yes?"

She shook her head. "Eat. You have to be starving. You've

all been working so hard."

Damien sent her a smoldering look. "I am starving."
She reddened faintly at the look and flicked a quick glance

at Bronte, but she discovered she needn't have worried.

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Bronte was far too preoccupied with her own men, and her
active brood, to be aware of anything else. She favored
Damien with a flirtatious look in return. "What are you in the
mood for?" she asked teasingly. "I brought some of the fried
fowl you like. Breast? Thigh? Leg? Or Wing?"

He grinned. "I will have a thigh. The sweetest meat is

there."

"For myself, I am partial to the breasts," Gavin said with a

husky chuckle.

Kameron examined her thoughtfully, his gaze heated. "I

am so partial to all of the parts that I am having a difficult
time deciding."

"He is right," Kyle murmured near her ear. "I believe I will

just eat you."

It was completely unfair that they could arouse her with no

more than a look and a few choice words, Zoe thought,
thoroughly rattled, certain she hadn't had nearly the effect on
them that they'd had on her. She popped Kyle's thigh
playfully where it rested beside her hip. "Eat the food I slaved
to prepare for you!"

Chuckling, he moved away to examine the food Damien

had unloaded from the hamper. "What piece do you like
best?" he asked, sending her a wicked look.

She grinned at him. "It doesn't have the piece I like best,"

she quipped. "It's a hen. I believe there might be some
smoked boar sausage in there, though. If you'd just slip one
into one of those soft rolls, I'll be satisfied with that."

He picked up one of the dark, wrinkled links and studied it

doubtfully. "This does not look very filling."

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Her lips curled in a smile. "Oh, each one is very satisfying.

They taste wonderful. I think I would just be satisfied to just
suck on it."

She had the satisfaction of seeing them shift

uncomfortably as she reached for the sausage roll Kyle
handed her. She was tempted to tease them more by licking
it, but decided against it when she heard Bronte chuckle.

"When do you think you'll be finished with the house?"

Bronte asked when everyone had focused on their food for a
few minutes.

Kameron glanced at her and then turned to study the

house. "A few weeks more, I think. We must finish before our
leave is up."

The comment dampened Zoe's appetite. They'd put in a

request to alternate their sentry duties so that she wasn't
alone, but she liked it best when they were all together. Kyle
and Gavin had only just returned from sentry duty, and now,
in just a few weeks, Kameron and Damien would be leaving.

She would have the baby before they came back.
She didn't know how they felt about that, but she had

wanted them with her when she had the baby—all of them.

Especially Kameron since it was his baby.
She supposed that was the real source of her discontent.

She couldn't have everything just the way she wanted it.
Spoiled. Greedy. Selfish. She could think of a lot of things to
throw at herself, but it didn't change anything. She was
disappointed that the timing of the baby's birth was so
inconvenient to her nearly perfect life.

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Kameron was not going to be the first to see his little girl.

He was going to be the last and that hurt in an indescribable
way.

If she could've squeezed it out early, or thought she could

hang on to it a little longer, she thought she would've tried.

Except that could be bad for the baby, and she certainly

didn't want that.

She was sorry she'd asked the med tech to tell her who

the father was and what the baby's gender was. If she hadn't
known, at least she wouldn't be so miserable.

Beyond that, the fact that she knew made it seem unfair to

keep the information to herself even knowing Gavin and
Damien would be disappointed if they knew beyond a doubt
that it wasn't theirs, and Kameron would probably be
disappointed because his baby would be at least a month old
before he saw her.

She discovered when she emerged from her self-

absorption that Kameron was studying her, a questioning look
in his eyes. She forced a smile she knew didn't look even
close to genuine and focused on eating.

There were times when their obsession with taking care of

her was akin to bullying. It irritated her on two levels—first
because she knew it was because they were convinced that
the fact that she was human equated to 'frail', which she
certainly was not, and secondly because she was used to
deciding for herself how much she wanted to eat, when she
wanted to eat, and when she felt like resting. There were
times when it was nice to be so spoiled and other times when
it took all she could do not to blow up at them.

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Alright, there'd been a couple of times when she actually

had lost her temper. They'd decamped to consult with
Bronte's men, who'd explained it was because she breeding,
and they'd back off—for a little while.

Not that she'd cared for the fact that her completely

legitimate peeve had been put down to 'crazy breeding
woman', but at least it had kept them from driving her insane
for a little while.

"I am a soldier," Kameron said quietly, drawing her

attention back to him and making it clear he knew why she
was suddenly quiet.

That didn't mean she had to like it! She managed to smile.

"I still miss you when you go off," she said somewhat sulkily.

He grinned. "I like it when you miss me."
She couldn't help but smile in return. "Is that a complaint

about the rest of the time?"

His black brows rose, but amusement lit his eyes. "You

know it is not."

God it was hard dragging a compliment out of one of

them!

They'd finished eating and were gathering up the remains

of their picnic when a sudden tension in the men caught Zoe's
attention. She looked up to see a soldier she didn't know
racing along the rough track to their construction site. Her
heart instantly clenched. Good news never traveled that fast.

She glanced uneasily at Bronte as the men moved off to

intercept the runner.

Bronte looked as upset as she was, which dispelled the

hope that she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. She didn't

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make any attempt to follow the men, though, and Zoe
couldn't decide if it was because of the babies or if it just
wasn't acceptable.

She supposed it wasn't acceptable. Gathering up one of

the babies that had crawled her way, she moved closer to
Bronte. "What do you think it is?"

Bronte shook her head. "Very bad. They've never sent

anyone to fetch them before."

The sinking sensation intensified. "You don't know he came

to get them."

Bronte sent her a sympathetic look but didn't comment.

When Zoe dragged her gaze away and turned to look at the
men again, she saw the runner was leaving as he'd come—at
a run. The faces of all her men were grim and hard as she'd
never seen them. For the first time since she'd known them
she saw them as the deadly killing machines their adversaries
must have glimpsed before they died. She felt a shiver of
dread run through her.

Gavin and Kyle reached her first. Certain that Kameron

and Damien had been summoned to leave early for some
reason, she glanced past them at the men still clustered
where they'd spoken to the runner.

"We must go."
Zoe's gaze instantly shot to Gavin's and snagged there.

Disbelief held her for several moments before she could
gather her wits. "But ... you just got back!" she exclaimed in
dismay as he pulled her into his arms.

His mouth was hot and hungry as it closed over hers,

sending a spiral of comforting warmth through her, but his

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kiss was woefully brief. Instead of releasing her immediately,
he tightened his arms around her, nuzzling his face against
her neck and breathing deeply. "We are on alert. I do not
know how long we will be gone, but you must stay with
Bronte until we return."

"I don't understand.... You just got back."
Kyle grabbed her up into a surprisingly fierce embrace as

Gavin released her. She clung to him, feeling a tension in him
that unnerved her. He kissed her with the same hungry
desperation that Gavin had and it finally filtered into her
numb mind that it was because he wasn't certain he'd see her
again.

"Kyle?" Her chin wobbled over the one word. "You're

scaring me."

He stroked her cheek. "Do not be afraid, Zoe. We will let

no one hurt you."

He pulled away and turned with Gavin, breaking into a

loping run down the track the other man had disappeared
down a few minutes before, leaving before she could force
her stiff lips and tongue and chaotic mind to form any more
words. I'm afraid for you! she thought, but she didn't get the
chance to tell him.

She dug her fingers a little frantically into Damien's arms

when he grabbed her up for a quick hug and a lingering kiss.
"Damien! Tell me something! You have to tell me what's
going on!"

"We do not know. We are summoned—all pilots. The first

line has been ... breached."

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Kameron pulled her from Damien's arms and held her.

"You will stay with Bronte. Her men have built a safe room
beneath the mansion in case of need. It will be far safer here,
away from the city. Caleb will be here to protect you."

"You can't just leave without telling me anything!" Zoe

said, struggling to keep from crying.

He pulled away and bracketed her face in his palms. "We

do not know anything more than we have said, Zoe. We are
only soldiers. High command has called upon all forces to
report to their ships immediately. They would not do that if a
threat was not imminent and substantial. Gideon, Jerico, and
Gabriel must report, as well, for they are also first defense.
Caleb is part of the ground forces. He is not summoned yet.
He will be here to protect you and Bronte and the babies."

"I'm not worried about me!" she wailed.
"I am worried about you!" he said almost angrily. "We

should have put in for reassignment to ground forces! It is too
late to regret that we did not—but I had not thought.... "He
broke off and shook his head as if dismissing whatever it was
he'd meant to say. His gaze flickered over her face. "Tell me
you will do as Caleb says so that he can protect you and ...
my daughter for me!"

She nodded, though she was hardly aware of anything he

said. She was too focused on trying to keep from crying. His
kiss was slow and lingering, but still too brief. He held her
gaze for a long moment when he pulled away. "I love you."

She had to clamp her jaws together to still the wobble in

her chin when he released her and turned away. Tears filled
her eyes, blinding her. She blinked and then rubbed her eyes.

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Kameron and Damien were just disappearing behind a blind
of trees on a bend in the track when she managed to focus
her swimming vision.

Sniffing, she looked around forlornly, feeling lost, cold.

Caleb, she saw, had gathered up a baby in each arm. Bronte
was holding the other infant. She met Bronte's gaze for a
moment and then looked away.

Leaving the remnants of their picnic, they took the track

through the woods to Bronte's home. Zoe, who'd taken one of
the babies from Caleb, managed to master the urge to cry
with baby Corin's help. Every time she considered letting go
and her face puckered, his did. His warning whine was
enough to distract her into calming him. She was so numb it
took her a while to realize she was communicating her
distress to him. She managed to gather her self-control once
that dawned on her and by the time they reached Bronte's
house she had herself well in hand.

She'd descended into a numb sort of calm, though, not

true composure. A haze of disbelief seemed to separate her
from everything going on around her. She was vaguely aware
of Bronte and the babies. Caleb had disappeared somewhere.
She supposed to check the safe room Kameron had spoken
of.

"Who do you suppose would be attacking?" she asked out

loud after a while.

Bronte stared at her. "Most likely the company—maybe the

federation. I don't know. I don't think it would be anyone
else. As far as I'm aware, there aren't any civilizations near

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enough with the technology to pose a threat even if they were
inclined to attack."

"Sounded like a dumb question, I guess," Zoe muttered. "I

just don't see how the company could've had time to send
another fleet that would be enough of a threat to warrant
this. It'd have to be something huge, wouldn't it? You said
they'd never called up all of the flyers at once."

Bronte stared at her. "Whoever it is, they breached the

first line of defense," she said in a strange voice.

"Damien said that."
Bronte shook her head when she saw Zoe still didn't get it.

"The sentries guard the first line—the posts your men usually
guard."

Zoe stared at her uncomfortably. "I know. The same area I

breached...."

"They stopped the threat there. They didn't consider that a

breach. And Reuel only took the men on duty at the time to
search that quadrant to make certain there was no further
threat and to rescue the downed fighters. He didn't call the
entire squadron."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twenty Seven

The sound of fighters overhead drew them outside a short

time later. The sight they viewed from the yard banished the
doubts Zoe had been trying to hold on to. From horizon to
horizon as far as they could see, the sky was full of the
fighters of the cyborg nation. A mixture of pride, awe, and
sheer terror filled Zoe as she stared at them until they
disappeared in the vast distance of the sky.

Gone, she thought.
What will I do if they don't come back?
A sense of desolation such as she'd never experienced

seemed to engulf her. She couldn't imagine the unimaginable,
and yet she couldn't chase it completely from her awareness
either. It lay like a black, poisonous cloud at the fringes of her
mind, threatening her composure. The threat of such
devastation took her beyond the reach of soothing,
emotionally cleansing tears.

She stared mutely at Caleb as he caught her arm and led

her back inside.

Bronte balked at seeking shelter in the safe room below

the mansion. She would go if she had to, she informed him.
Zoe searched her face for any sign that Bronte was as
confident of a happy conclusion as that statement indicated
but failed to find it. She saw the same terror of loss she felt
and looked away. She couldn't handle more than her own.

She had no real concept of the passing of time. They fed

the babies and settled them on pallets on the rug because,

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despite Bronte's assertion that no threat would pierce the
might of the cyborg fleet, she wasn't confident enough to take
the babies so far from the shelter. Zoe only realized darkness
had fallen when the lights came on.

Caleb disappeared into the kitchen for a little while and

returned with food that no one ate but him. She nibbled at
her own to appease the emptiness, but she hardly knew what
it was and she'd taken no more than a few bites before she
began to feel queasy with nerves and set it aside
apologetically.

"I must report to head quarters," Caleb announced after a

while, drawing both her and Bronte out of their stupors.

"You'll come right back?" Bronte asked in a tremulous

voice.

He settled beside her on the couch and pulled her into his

arms in a gesture of comfort. Zoe was torn between watching
them enviously and the discomfort of being an intruder. She
tried to close her mind to the low voiced conversation
between them, but she could hear snatches of it despite her
efforts.

He kissed her after a few minutes, peeled her clinging

arms loose, and stood up. "Promise me?"

Bronte swallowed and nodded and he was gone like the

others.

"He's coming back?"
Bronte nodded. "Unless they order him to stay." She

paused. "If the alarm sounds we're to go down into the
shelter. I promised him we would."

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Zoe swallowed convulsively against the knot that formed in

her throat. It flickered at the edges of her mind that that
wouldn't happen unless the enemy, whoever it was, made it
past the fleet, and that wouldn't happen if there were any left
to fight them. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

Bronte struggled to look confident, but Zoe saw the way

her gaze flickered to her children sleeping peacefully on the
floor near her feet. "You've seen them in action. It would take
a hell of a force to come close to defeating them."

Zoe got up after a while and went upstairs to gather

blankets and pillows to make pallets on the floor of the living
room. She felt drained of strength, her mind dull with the
emotions she'd been battling to keep at bay. Once she'd
made up the bedding, though, she merely returned to the
couch she'd been occupying for hours to stare at nothing and
try not to think.

The sound of someone entering the house a little later sent

a painful jolt through her. Bronte surged up from the couch
where she'd been sitting and stared at the entrance way
hopefully. When Caleb appeared, she sucked in a relieved
gasp and flew across the room to launch herself into his arms
as if he'd been gone months instead of only a few hours.

"There is news," he said when he'd finally calmed her and

they'd returned to settle together on the couch.

Zoe leapt to her feet without even realizing she had.

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"Tell us!" Bronte demanded.
"There has been a battle. Both sides have withdrawn in a

stalemate. The fleet that attacked is making demands."

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Bronte and Zoe both stared at him blankly. "Any report on

... casualties?" Bronte asked the question uppermost in both
their minds.

He shook his head. "They would not send that information

when the enemy might intercept. They have demanded we
turn over the women of the federation being held by the
cyborg nation."

Zoe's knees buckled. She stared at him in dawning horror

as his words sank in. "My fault," she said weakly.

Bronte looked at her sharply, but it was Caleb who spoke.

"If there is even the actions of one that could be said to be
responsible, it is not you!" he said harshly.

Zoe's chin wobbled. She didn't believe him. The fleet of

mercenaries hired by the company had followed her. No
doubt they'd communicated their position to their base when
they encountered resistance. Even if she hadn't known how to
find the cyborgs, she'd been looking for them. Even if she
hadn't known she was being followed, she had been. How
could it not be her fault?

"Well! We'll just go and tell them to go to hell!" Bronte

snapped, surging to her feet. "They can't make us go back if
we don't want to! They can't hold any of you responsible for
'taking' us if you aren't holding us against our will!"

Caleb caught her hand and drew her down on the couch

beside him. "You will tell them nothing. There is not one of us
that would allow you to take that risk, that would be willing to
chance that they would take you from us!"

"I'll go. Bronte shouldn't risk it, but I could go and speak

to them."

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Caleb slid a speculative glance at her. "Your men would

not allow you to take such a risk either!" he said harshly. "We
do not need to send our women out to defend our rights!"

"Oh don't even start that macho bullshit with me!" Bronte

snapped. "Zoe and I are not about to cower here and let them
blow everyone to bits when we could stop this!"

Caleb's face hardened. "You do not even know that it

would make any difference! They are making demands they
know we will not concede to! They would not believe you if
you told them you were here by your own free will, or they
would pretend not to! In any case, it is more than the two of
you."

The last comment pierced their shock and outrage. "What

do you mean we aren't the only two?" Bronte demanded.

Caleb surged to his feet. "I do not know the whole tale, but

a vessel was seized months ago. As I understand, it was
around the time that Zoe crossed the kill zone. It was
seized—with the full knowledge and sanction of high
command—because of the value of the vessel itself, which
was a B class war ship.

"What they did not know until they had taken it was that it

was a slaver. The hold was full of women who had been taken
from a raid on several of the outer worlds."

Zoe gaped at him. "So ... you're saying...?"
"I am saying we do not know, now, if it was even the

company who sent the mercenaries we routed, but it is
entirely possible they were not. Regardless, the fleet that is
demanding the return of the women is only part regular

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federation military. In part, it is the home defense of the
worlds the slavers raided."

Bronte and Zoe exchanged a look. "Well, give the women

to them, damn it!"

Amusement flickered in Caleb's eyes. "The council is not

inclined to return them. By the federation's own laws, they
are seized contraband."

* * * *

Zoe wasn't certain if it was out of respect for Bronte's

position in their community or because they had reached an
impasse in their own attempt to settle the dispute, but the
council agreed to Bronte's petition for an audience and less
than a week later she and Zoe sat down to try to negotiate a
peaceful resolution.

The women, they discovered, had been held in a secure

location—secretly, which was why they hadn't known about it
themselves—it wasn't general knowledge—because the
council members couldn't come to an agreement among
themselves as to whether or not to free the women and didn't
want the added pressure of demands from the general
population—the unattached males—to keep the women.

They'd adopted a policy of protecting the location of the

colony by not allowing 'foreign citizens' to leave once they
had been brought into the colony itself. They were also
inclined to keep the women on the grounds of need, since the
unequal balance of males to females in the colony not only
created a good bit of tension and dissatisfaction, but also
limited the gene pool of the growing colony.

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On the other hand, considering their own history, most of

the members were uncomfortable with the fact that the
women had originally been taken against their will, even if it
was the slavers, and not them, who'd done it. They were far
more inclined to try to persuade the women to stay, but
uncertain of how they could go about it without creating even
more dissatisfaction.

Zoe and Bronte offered to go to speak with the women to

see if any were inclined to accept the offer by the council to
remain in the colony and contract with the men. Neither of
them had realized the full scope of the task they'd taken upon
themselves until they reached the facility where the women
were being held and discovered just how frightened they all
were.

"It looks like a prison," Bronte whispered to Zoe in dismay

as they were escorted through the gates that surrounded the
building.

Zoe scanned the building and the fenced area they were

passing through. "That would've been my first thought ...
except ... well, there are notable differences from any prison
I've seen before—no guard towers, for one."

"That's because it was originally a barracks," Bronte said

testily. "It was one of the first buildings they built here from
what Gideon told me. They don't have prisons—or didn't. I
know they didn't quite know how to handle the situation but
this looks bad ... very bad."

It wasn't quite as bad as either of them had expected once

they were inside. The quarters where the women had been
housed were cramped, to say the least. They actually looked

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like prison cells since they were barely large enough for a set
of bunks and a lavatory. The women hadn't been confined,
however. Most of the women had gathered in the 'mess' hall
where their food was served.

They hadn't seen more than three guards, including the

one who'd let them into the barracks, and then locked the
door behind them and left.

They were immediately noticed. Within moments of

entering the hall, they had the attention of every woman
there—around fifty Zoe guessed.

"You poor thing!" a young blond woman said, her gaze

resting briefly on Zoe's distended belly before she met Zoe's
gaze.

Zoe lifted a hand protectively to her belly, feeling uneasy

for the first time as it occurred to her that she would have a
hard time protecting herself if any of the women were violent.

"When did they capture you?" another woman, younger

than the first, with long, dark hair, asked.

Bronte and Zoe exchanged uneasy glances. "We aren't

captives ... and neither are you."

Disbelief was evident immediately. A wave of whispered

comments traveled the length and breadth of the mess hall.
"Why are we here if we aren't captives?" another woman
demanded angrily. "We've been here for months! How can
you say we aren't when we haven't been allowed to leave?"

"They're crazy, or they think we are!"
"Wait!" Bronte held up a hand and shouted to get their

attention.

The room quieted. "You're here for your protection!"

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"From what? Who?"
A tall, slender woman separated herself from the other

women and approached Bronte and Zoe. "Who are you and
why are you here?" she asked.

Bronte introduced both of them. "The council asked us to

come and speak with you."

As young as the woman was, and Zoe judged her to be no

more than her early twenties, she had a regal poise about her
that was uncommon for one so young. She studied Bronte
with an assessing gaze Zoe doubted missed much. "Why
didn't they send you before now?"

Bronte and Zoe exchanged a look. "They intended to keep

the matter in council and come to a decision. When they saw
they couldn't reach an agreement, they asked us to speak
with you," Zoe said, ignoring the flicker of surprise in Bronte's
eyes.

Inwardly, she shrugged. They'd agreed that Bronte would

do most of the talking, but although neither of them were
actually trained or qualified when it came to delicate political
negotiations, she was accustomed to interrogations and this
had the same 'feel' to it.

The trick was to get as much information as possible

without revealing how much they knew.

In this case, they did not want to look as if they'd come as

beggars. There was no way they were going to settle the
dispute with all parties completely satisfied, she knew. The
council wanted these women as colonists—their people
wanted them back. She and Bronte were going to have to

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406

convince some of them to stay and then convince the council
to allow the ones who couldn't be convinced, to leave.

"What was the point of deadlock?"
Zoe shrugged. "There were several points, actually. They

rescued you from slavers."

That comment brought about a good bit of bitter

mutterings from the women around them although they
seemed mostly inclined to allow the young woman to speak
for them. She feigned surprise as she glanced around at the
women. "You weren't taken by slavers?"

"We were," the young woman agreed. "We assumed we'd

been captured by a rival group of slavers."

Zoe drew in a calming breath. "Is this your idea of what

slavers would do?" she asked, gesturing at the comfortable
room where they all stood. "Have you been mistreated?
Deprived of creature comforts?"

"It's hardly comfortable here and we haven't been able to

leave!" a woman near the back shouted.

"There's a vast difference between being offered the

hospitality available and being mistreated!" Zoe retorted.
"You were housed here because it was all that was available.
And you were kept here for your safety."

The young woman studied her speculatively. "That's the

second time you've said this incarceration was for our safety,
but you haven't explained the threat."

Bronte smiled with an effort. "It isn't a threat—exactly. Our

people have been persecuted. To maintain their freedom and
the safety of their families, to protect themselves from their
enemies, they've kept the location of our colony a closely

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407

guarded secret. No one who comes here, who could
conceivably inform our enemies of our whereabouts, is
allowed to leave.

"You were kept here to protect you from seeing more than

they would allow you to see until they could decide whether
to send you away or not."

The young woman's eyes narrowed. "Who persecutes your

people?"

"Obviously, that's also something we can't tell you," Zoe

responded before Bronte could. "But the other reason you've
been secluded here is because of the fairly extreme ratio of
male colonists to female. They didn't want to chance that the
male colonists would demand that you stay so that they
might have a chance of finding a mate among you."

Bronte flicked an irritated frown at her, but she ignored it,

scanning the faces of the women to see how they'd taken that
announcement.

"Are they as handsome as the ones we've seen here?" an

anonymous voice from the back asked, provoking a
smattering of giggles from the other women.

Zoe grinned triumphantly at Bronte. "My men are

handsome. Bronte's men are handsome. I don't think I've
seen one yet that wasn't."

The young woman who'd been leading the talks tilted her

head curiously. "Men?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, Zoe thought. "I already told

you the ratio was extremely unbalanced. The law is that
women colonists must agree to take no less than two males
into their household, no more than four."

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408

The entire atmosphere of the hall underwent a radical

change from fearful and suspicious to unnerved, disbelieving,
but intrigued.

"I have a man ... and a baby back on my home world!" a

young woman said tearfully. "I want to go home!"

Bronte held up a hand to quiet the waves of conversation

coming at them from so many directions at once that they
couldn't catch half, or answer anyone. "We came to talk and
to try to resolve the problem we have here. All we ask is that
those of you who have no one waiting for you to consider the
council's offer of citizenship."

The young woman who'd been acting as spokesperson for

the group added her voice to theirs. "Peace ladies! They've
come to talk. Let us have an orderly meeting so that
everyone gets the chance to ask their questions, voice their
fears, and demands!"

She returned her attention to Bronte and Zoe as the

women subsided. "I am Ciara of Basia. Let us sit down and
then the others can form an orderly line and sit down one at
the time to speak with you. Does that meet with your
approval?"

"It certainly has my approval!" Zoe said readily. "My back

hurts if I stand very long—or sit very long, if it comes to
that."

Ciara's smile was more friendly. "When is your baby due?"
"When she decides to come, I guess," Zoe responded

wryly. "I'm not sure. Four to six weeks."

Zoe didn't know about Bronte, but her spirits began to

plummet after a couple of hours of talking to the women.

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409

Most of them claimed to have a partner and children, or at
least one child. She strongly suspected a good many of them
were lying, but there was no way to prove it.

By the time they left, she was exhausted and depressed. "I

counted a dozen that were unattached and of those only
three were even curious enough to ask any questions about
settling here. What about you?"

"Dismal," Bronte agreed. "One asked about the colony, the

rest were swearing they had a dozen babies waiting for
them."

"We can't go to the council with four possibles," Zoe said

angrily.

"I want my men home—in one piece!" Bronte said sulkily.

"There has to be something we can do!"

Zoe wanted her men home, too. Although high command

hadn't wanted to risk the enemy intercepting reports of
casualties, they had finally allowed some of the men to 'call
home'. As relieved as she and Bronte were that their men
were alright for the moment, they also knew that could
change as long as the threat remained and that wasn't
acceptable. "It would be easier if we could show them around
the colony. I know not one of them hails from a more elegant
city! We have everything here anyone could want! Beautiful
homes, beautiful world, beautiful men that are just
wonderful!"

Bronte nodded angry agreement. After a few moments,

though, she turned thoughtful. "We can't show them
everything the colony has to offer, but I don't see why we
can't show them some of the sights!"

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Zoe looked at her questioningly.
"What was the first thing that ran through your mind when

you first saw your men?"

Zoe thought it over. "Oh shit! Cyborgs!"
Bronte gave her a dirty look. "Besides that."
"Drop dead gorgeous," Zoe responded after a little more

thought.

"Exactly! I think we need to dazzle them with the

possibilities. After all, the men are going to have to win them
over if they're to convince them to contract with them."

"The council won't go for it," Zoe said warningly.
"Oh yes they will!" Bronte said militantly.
She sent Zoe home to rest and marched into the municipal

building to tackle the council by herself. As guilty as she felt
for not supporting Bronte in her effort, she acknowledged that
she was just too exhausted to be much help. She could barely
get up the enthusiasm for the walk home with a nice soft bed
waiting at the end of it.

Bronte looked nearly as exhausted by the time she made it

home, but there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

"They agreed?"
Bronte smiled. "Told you!"
"I never doubted you could browbeat those bad old

cyborgs!" Zoe said with a chuckle. "I've seen the way you
wrap your men around your little finger."

Bronte preened briefly. "As if you don't!"
Zoe smiled wanly. "I wish."

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"You are such ... an idiot for an intelligent woman!" Bronte

said testily. "They adore you! How could you possibly doubt
it?"

"They've never said it," Zoe said mournfully.
Bronte pulled her into a sisterly embrace. "You're as bad

as they are! I know you want to hear the words, honey, but
the words are hollow without the actions that go with it.
They've shown you in every way possible how much they care
about you! Anybody can say it without meaning it. They show
you how important you are to them in everything they do, the
way they look at you—in everything they say to you! Are you
tired? Hungry? Do you want a massage to ease the pain in
your back? Let me carry that for you! I missed you. You're
beautiful! Stay with Bronte so that you'll be safe!" She shook
her head. "If you really listen Zoe, you'll hear them say they
love you a dozen times a day in dozens of ways!"

The tightness of tears clogged her throat as Zoe pulled

away to stare at her sister, feeling hope, doubt, dismay. "You
believe that?"

"I do, and you should, too!"

[Back to Table of Contents]

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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412

Chapter Twenty Eight

Bronte wasn't happy about leaving her precious babies

with anyone that wasn't family, but she thought it would be a
point in their favor for the women to see her with at least one
of her men. They took the babies to stay with the woman she
considered her 'star' pupil in parenting classes, Amaryllis, who
had a son of her own and a daughter 'en route', by her man
Dante who, as a med tech, was the only one of her men in
residence. Her other men, Cain and Reese were with the fleet.

When they reached the city, they met up with the men the

council had chosen to 'escort' them.

Bronte and Zoe exchanged one of the mute sisterly

communications they'd developed that said, in a nut shell, 'uh
oh'.

By the time they'd reached the old barracks they'd both

come to the conclusion that 'uh oh' was putting it mildly. They
stopped before they reached the compound, excused
themselves from the men and moved far enough away they
were fairly certainly they couldn't be overheard.

"They don't have a clue," Bronte said at almost the same

moment Zoe did.

"They didn't even tell them what this was about," Zoe

responded with certainty.

They turned to survey the group of men, dressed in their

formal jumpsuits and standing at rigid attention.

"What do you think?" Zoe asked her sister.

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413

"Cute—also cold, steely eyed and scary. The women are

going to be too petrified to notice how good looking they are.
Maybe we should tell them?"

Zoe considered it. "So they can assume 'courtship mode',

you mean? I don't know. If they dash off for flowers and
chocolates...."

"You've got a point. Those uniforms have got to go,

though. The minute they put them on they look like someone
shoved a rod up their asses."

Zoe snickered. "I don't know if those women can take next

thing to nude cyborgs, though. They might have heart
failure."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Bronte responded with a

gleam of amusement, catching Caleb's eye and summoning
him. "The uniforms have got to go!"

Caleb's brows rose almost to his hairline. He turned to look

at their escort. "They were sent as escort."

"No, they weren't. They were sent to strut and entice the

females behind those walls and they're not going to do it
looking ... like that!"

Caleb nodded. "I will inform them that they are to entice

the females."

Bronte grabbed his arm before he could leave. "Don't tell

them that! In fact, don't tell them about the women at all."

He stared at her blankly.
She smiled at him sweetly. "We want it to be a surprise."
He looked more confused than enlightened, but he left to

inform the soldiers they were to discard their formal attire.

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414

They stared at him blankly, looked at each other, and

finally shrugged, peeling off their uniforms and discarding
them.

Zoe covered her mouth with her hand and looked away.

"OH MY GOD!"

Bronte punched her. "Behave yourself!"
Zoe felt a little giddy herself, and she was firmly attached

to her men. She could only imagine what the reaction of the
other women would be.

Stunned.
The moment they appeared in the hall, Bronte on Caleb's

arm and six cyborg soldiers marching behind them, a silence
so profound fell that it was almost deafening. The soldiers,
Zoe discovered when she nerved herself to glance at them,
looked almost as stunned.

Actually, more stunned, she amended, except that stunned

on them was 'shut down' mode. They stopped as abruptly as
if they'd hit a block wall and stared out at the sea of women
as if they'd never seen one before. She slid an anxious glance
at Bronte.

Bronte fixed a plastic smile on her face and glanced around

the room. Spying Ciara, she turned and crooked an imperious
finger at her escorts and nudged Caleb in the right direction.

Ciara was staring open mouthed at the soldiers when

Bronte came to a halt before her. "This my man, Caleb. And
these are ... some of his friends," she said brightly, turning to
look at the men. "This is Ciara of Basia. Why don't you
introduce yourselves to her?"

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415

The men, Zoe, who'd followed them, discovered were

almost as catatonic as Ciara was. She nudged the man closest
to her. He blinked, like someone waking from a dream and
turned to look at her. She smiled up at him. "Name," she
hissed in an under voice.

He saluted.
Zoe cringed inside.
"I am Tristan CS59709."
Zoe bit her lip. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she

glanced uneasily at the women. It wasn't that she had no
intention of telling them they were cyborgs, she just didn't
think this was the time to do it. To her relief, she discovered
the women were so mesmerized by the men they hardly
heard anything they said. No doubt, even if they had, she
decided, they thought it was some sort of military ranking.

She thought at first that it had been a huge mistake to

'surprise' the men. After a few hours, however, she realized
that it would probably have been pointless even if they hadn't
decided to do so. The men were too uneasy, and too
completely ignorant of how to flirt to manage more than an
occasional, tight smile and stilted responses to the questions
the women nerved themselves to ask.

"It was a good thing you brought Caleb," Zoe said as they

left. "He certainly made a good impression. I'm not so sure
about the others."

'The others' turned to scowl at her in sync and then

glanced at one another uncomfortably.

Caleb reminded them as they parted ways that they were

under strict orders not to reveal the presence of their visitors.

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416

The following day when they arrived to pick up their

escorts, they found the six with each carrying a large bouquet
and a box of chocolates.

"Oh God!" Zoe groaned under her breath.

* * * *

When Ciara settled at the table with Bronte and Zoe, her

expression was one of determination. "I am Ciara of Basia,"
she began, "the daughter of High Councilor Omar of Basia."
She waited for a few moments for that to sink in. "My father
sent a fleet to rescue me, didn't he?"

Excitement flooded Zoe. She exchanged a glance with

Bronte, but she didn't dare admit that the siege was behind
their attempts to promote friendly relations with the women.

Apparently, her expression gave her away, however. Ciara

nodded. "It's alright. I completely understand your position.
This is why I've told you. My father would not have said that
he'd come only for me, because then he would know that you
could use me to negotiate whatever agreement pleased you
most."

"Why did you tell us?" Bronte asked suspiciously.
Ciara smiled a little sadly. "Because I don't want him to

make war on your people on my account." She paused,
apparently gathering her thoughts. "Tell your council that I
will be happy to negotiate peace between our people if they
will agree to send the women home who wish to be freed."

* * * *

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417

Zoe had a blinding headache from butting heads with the

council members and it didn't seem to her that they were
moving even a little closer to an agreement. "There's no
reason for you to explain anything to these people! Besides
that, they already know where you are! This isn't a secret
place anymore. The sooner you get that out of your heads the
better. If you persist in being so damned stubborn, it's just
going to end up destroying all you've worked for!" she said,
angrily intruding into the 'civilized' debate that had been
going on without interruption for what seemed like hours.

Her angry outburst, as ill mannered as they might consider

it, had the desired effect of creating silence and giving her
their undivided attention, even though the faces that turned
to stare at her weren't at all welcoming of her opinion.

"Your position is that you took a ship that invaded your

space—which they'll understand because they wouldn't
tolerate it either. Ciara of Basia has agreed that she'll support
your claim completely and help negotiate a treaty.

"You could promote friendly relations and make allies of

these people. They don't know you're cyborgs. They don't
need to know. They don't even need to know who you're
protecting the colony from or why you have to."

Reuel, who was attending the council meeting via

hologram, glared at her in taut faced anger. "You are
suggesting that we should lie about who and what we are?
That we have reason to feel—unworthy? Ashamed?"

"I'm suggesting that you avoid any possibility of

prejudicing them by announcing it! You were created as
cyborgs! You aren't cyborgs! You are a nation of people who

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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418

have the same rights as any other race—and the same
responsibilities, if it comes to that!

"Your people have needs that you can't fulfill from within.

Granted, there are only a few women who expressed an
interest in considering contracting with colonists, but that's
impressive, to me anyway, considering the way this has been
handled.

"The single men want the chance to have what the others

have. You can give them that by opening negotiations with
these people. More that that, you could build allies that would
stand by you against other aggressors.

"Maybe you don't think you need them. Ordinarily, I'd be

inclined to agree, but as strong as you all are, as good as you
all are, you're still staggeringly outnumbered by the
Federation forces. You could neutralize their effectiveness
against you by making allies.

"You owe it to the colonists to protect them from the need

to give their lives to protect the colony if it's at all possible!"

* * * *

Bronte hadn't accused her of making a complete mess of

things, but Zoe felt her guilt keenly enough she was sure
Bronte wanted to. They hadn't been allowed to participate in
the council debates since, which was bad enough, but they
also didn't know what was going on because they'd been
forbidden entrance to the chambers.

"I should have just kept my mouth shut," she said finally,

inviting Bronte to vent her spleen. She deserved it. Their men
still weren't home and the chances didn't look good that they

Rules of Engagements [Cyberevolution IV]

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would come home any time soon—or without being drawn
into another battle.

Bronte looked at her angrily, but the anger evaporated

quickly. "It isn't your fault they're so hard headed they won't
see reason," she said grudgingly. "I happened to agree with
you. I just wish they had."

Caleb, arriving in time to hear the tail end of the

conversation, favored them both with an approving look.
"They did."

Bronte and Zoe, who'd been sitting across from one

another on the couches in the living area instantly surged to
their feet, staring at him hopefully.

"They did?" Zoe asked doubtfully.
"The fleet is escorting representatives from the worlds

involved in the battle as we speak."

"They're coming home?" Bronte asked, her voice quavering

with a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

He nodded.
Zoe swallowed with an effort. "My men, too?"
He studied her a moment. "I can not say—not that they

are among the escort. The majority of the fleet will remain at
alert. If you have correctly assessed the situation, however,
and negotiations progress, the entire fleet will be coming
home."

Bronte sent her a look of sympathy. Zoe fought the urge to

cry. "I'm going down to see," she said determinedly. "If
they're part of the escort I want them to know I've been
waiting for them to come home. If they're not ... then I'll go
when the next group is allowed to return."

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Caleb's gaze dropped to her belly, but he didn't argue with

the determination he saw in her eyes. "I will escort you."

"We'll all go," Bronte said determinedly.
Zoe hadn't really expected to see any of her men. She'd

girded herself for disappointment, but she couldn't have stood
the suspense of waiting to find out and, moreover, she
wanted them to see how anxiously she'd waited for their safe
return.

Her heart seemed to drop to her toes when she recognized

Damien and Kameron's ship as it settled to the tarmac. She
knew she wasn't supposed to intrude on the arrival of the
troops, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. As soon as the
ship began to settle toward the ground, she shoved the baby
she was carrying into Caleb's arms and took off as fast as she
could—waddled. If she hadn't effectively prevented Caleb
from grabbing her by loading him down with a second baby,
he wouldn't have had any trouble preventing her.

She'd caught him off guard, though. By the time he'd

transferred the baby to Bronte, she was racing across the
tarmac, holding her 'bouncing' baby girl. He caught up to her
when she stopped to catch her breath and watch the
gangplank lowered. Kameron was the first out the door.

His expression was a mixture of anger and relief and

gladness when he saw her waiting for him.

She didn't care that he disapproved. Uttering a squeal of

delight to see him, she shrugged Caleb's hand off and
would've raced up the gangplank to meet him if Kameron
hadn't forestalled her by racing down it to prevent her clumsy
climb. She threw herself against him when he reached her,

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421

clamping her arms tightly around his waist. He settled his
arms around her, holding her close.

"You should not have come!" he said in a chiding growl of

disapproval.

She sensed that at least part of the censure was aimed at

Caleb, but she drew away to look up at him anxiously. "I
couldn't wait!"

The tension went out of him. He swallowed convulsively. "I

have missed you, woman!"

She threw her arms around his neck, dragging his head

down to her level as she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
He hugged her tightly again when they broke the kiss,
nuzzling his face along the side of her neck. "I love you," he
murmured huskily.

Zoe pulled away to stare at his face. He's told her that

when he left, she remembered abruptly, told her that many
times since they'd contracted and yet she'd never accepted
that he might truly mean it. She'd been certain that he was
only saying it because she had told him she loved him.

Bronte was right. She hadn't been listening!
"I love you, too," she murmured, stroking his hard cheek.
"Do I not get a kiss?" Damien demanded.
Chuckling at the expression on his face, Zoe released her

frantic grip on Kameron and threw herself into his welcoming
arms, kissing him all over the face before she zeroed in on his
lips. "I'm so glad you're home! I've been worried sick!" she
told him when she pulled away.

She couldn't get enough of touching them to reassure

herself they were really home—safe and sound. After a few

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moments, though, she remembered abruptly that she'd
dashed onto the tarmac without regard for the fact that this
wasn't a simple homecoming. They were a part of a formal
military escort.

Self-conscious when that dawned on her, she glanced

around uncomfortably.

She didn't know if the fact that she'd behaved so

impulsively had effected everyone else that had come to
witness the arrival, but she discovered she certainly wasn't
the only one who'd decided to greet her men without regard
to the formality of the event.

All around them, she saw other women, pregnant or

carrying babies, greeting their own men with enthusiasm.

She also discovered when she looked around that Kyle and

Gavin were watching her from a short distance away. "Gavin!
Kyle!" she exclaimed joyfully, ready to bound toward them
when Kameron stopped her by grabbing her to prevent it.

He gave her a disapproving frown. "You will lose that child

here if you are determined to race around the tarmac!" he
said irritably.

She frowned at him, but before she could inform him that

she wasn't likely to just 'drop' it, Gavin and Kyle joined them.
By the time she'd kissed and hugged all of them several more
times, her irritation with Kameron had dissipated.

"When do you get to come home?" she asked them

hopefully.

Kameron glanced around them frowningly. "We have not

been given orders, yet, beyond the escort." He lifted a hand

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423

to her cheek. "Wait for us at the house in town. We will come
to you when we can."

Zoe nodded, excitement threading her veins.
"And do not be running about!" Kameron added when she

stepped away from him. "I am certain it is not good for you."

"One of us should ask permission to carry her home,"

Gavin said worriedly. "She has walked to town already. She
should not be on her feet so much when she is so near her
time."

"I do not like that she will be alone until we come. What if

all the bouncing and running about brings her labor on? I will
go and speak to her sister about this and see what she
thinks," Damien said.

"I will go and request permission to take her home," Kyle

said.

Zoe studied them for a long moment, feeling a welling of

love for them that seemed almost to inflate her chest to an
unbearable tightness. "I love you, too," she said, smiling
caressingly at each of them in turn.

The End

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moment to rate this eBook by going back to

your bookshelf at www.fictionwise.com.

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