Aramus (9 page)

“Cyborgs are impervious to disease,” Aramus announced.

Avion took her side. “She should wear the gloves.”

Riley sensed an undercurrent to their words and wondered at the quiet
, which stretched as Aramus frowned at the injured cyborg. After a few moments, he nodded, saying, “You’re right.”

Huh?
Did I miss something?
Riley definitely felt like something had been said between the men, but if that was the case, they’d done so telepathically, which, given they were cyborgs, was entirely possible. Whatever the case, they scrounged up a dusty box of gloves at the back of a cabinet, and she snapped them on before approaching Avion.

“Good news, you don’t have any extra limbs,” she announced as she set her hands on his ribcage and began palpating him.

“Or a tail,” Avion joked. “Did you see a lot of deformities in the bodies you examined?”

“
Yes and no. A lot of the changes weren’t readily evident. It was only when I cut them open that I really noted the differences, although, in most cases, the skin color gave it away. Without fail, the corpses were varying shades of gray.”

“But they were human?”

“As I told your boss,” she said, ignoring Aramus, who loomed over her shoulder watching her every move, “it is my belief they were mixing foreign DNA with human, trying to make something new.”

“Did they ever succeed?”

She shrugged. “I never saw any living gray people if that’s what you’re asking.”

“How did they die?”

“Violently and intentionally. Bullets to the head being the most common cause of death.”

“The second
most common method?”

“Decapitation.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Aramus seemed shocked.

“I wish. The headless corpses were also, without fail, the ones who least resembled humans. They were the ones with tails, and extra arms. Some even sported spiny ridges. It was disturbing to say the least. They looked almost like devils.”

“Did they have horns?” Aramus mocked.

“No idea. I never saw the heads in those instances.”

“What do you think they did with them?”

She shrugged as she moved
lower from Avion’s ribs to palpate his stomach, her fingers sinking into the sunken cavity, so unlike the hard abdomen of the cyborg breathing down her neck. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they pickled them and put them on a shelf as part of a collection.”

“Damn. I wish our searching team had found one.
”

She shuddered. “Why?”

“Our scientists would have wanted to examine them.”

“Scientists? I thought all cyborgs were soldiers
.”

“
Most, but not all,” Avion replied. “Our kind is—”

“She doesn’t need a lesson in cyborg divisions
,” Aramus interrupted. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“
Examining Avion as you ordered.” In the process of probing his hips with her fingertips, Riley did her best to keep her gaze averted from his groin area.

“Would you like some privacy while you fondle him?” Aramus snapped.

She stopped and whirled to face him. “What is your problem? I’m doing what you asked me to do.” And yet, he seemed irrationally angry. She just couldn’t understand why.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was jealous.

Aramus didn’t know where the rage came from. It bore no rational basis. Riley did as told. She examined Avion, her manner professional, her bedside manner gentle and courteous. But as soon as she pulled that sheet down and exposed Avion’s lower regions, more specifically his cock, which reacted to her clinical touch, Aramus found himself suddenly imbued with anger—and an urge to punch his friend before throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her away.

What is wrong with me?
To his surprise, his BCI had a ready reply. Jealousy.

What the fuck?
No way. Aramus did not care that the doctor touched Avion. She did her job. Reminding himself didn’t stem the anger—or halt the urge to kiss her when she faced him with flashing eyes and pursed lips.

He tried to justify his actions. “I am just ensuring that you are not taking advantage of Avion. He is blind and cannot see what you are doing.”

“Actually, she can take advantage of me all she wants,” Avion interjected. “Do you know how long it’s been since a woman touched me down there?” He smiled.

Aramus clenched his fist at his side lest he rip the grin from
Avion’s face. “This is a medical examination, not a date or foreplay. I expect you both to comport yourselves in a professional manner.”

“I am,” she stated, eyes still flashing
in irritation. “It’s you who’s acting all crazy. If you can’t handle watching, then maybe you should step into the hall and wait until I’m done.”

“You’d like that
, wouldn’t you? Leave you alone with our medical equipment so you can tamper with it. Give you a chance to plant one of your human programming bombs in my friend’s mind or kill him so he can’t tell us what he knows.”

Her mouth rounded into an O of astonishment. “You’re nuts. Completely and utterly whacked.”

“There is nothing wrong with my cognitive abilities.”

“Ha. I think you should check again.”

They both turned as Avion chuckled. “You two are funny.”

“I see nothing amusing about the situation.”

“Ditto,” replied Riley.

“Oh please. Aramus, you and I both know the human won’t harm me and that there’s nothing she can use or do here that would cause harm. Not with the cameras watching. And she’s right. You are acting in a most irrational manner. I understand your concern for my well
-being, but rest assured, even without my sight, it would take more than this female to kill me. No offense, Doctor.”

“None taken, and thank you.
”

Having his momentary lapse of reasoning so soundly spanked
, made Aramus clamp his lips into a tight line and take a step back. He said not a word as Riley completed her examination, her hands not once touching Avion’s male parts—thank fuck, because Aramus wasn’t quite sure what he would have done.

At the completion of her visual exam, she peeled off the gloves with a rubberized snap and disposed of them. “He’s normal.
”

“Normal as in?”

She shrugged. “Honestly? Normal for a human. If I didn’t know he was cyborg, I would never have known. He shows no physical signs of being anything other than what he is. An undernourished male in his late twenties, with outward signs of physical abuse. His skeletal structure is what I’d expect. His skin pallor is not even close to gray. And while I didn’t see his organs, he shows no misshapen lumps or bulges indicating oversized or extra ones. If he were a regular patient, I’d say he needs rest, food, and exercise. But that’s mostly just common sense. Again, I’m not an expert on living things.”

Aramus pulled up the sheet over Avion, higher than before. “So he was not subjected to the DNA experimentation?”

“Not according to my visual exam. But you’ll want to run a blood test and take tissue samples to be sure.”

Already done. The stuttering idiot Percy was running the diagnostic in another room under
Kentry’s watchful eyes. The comatose human would have been the better choice to do it given his qualifications, but since he’d yet to wake, they made do with the resources they had.

“We shall leave you to rest, Avion.”

“So soon? And here I was hoping to chitchat with the doctor for a bit?” Blind or not, Avion had no problem directing a grin Riley’s way.

Friends do not punch friends for smiling at humans.
Aramus ran this message in a loop as he once again clamped his hand around Riley’s upper arm and guided her from the room with a gruff, “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Bye,” Riley called out before the door slid shut. “Well
, that was rude of you,” she remarked as he marched her up the hall.

“What was?”

“The way you hustled us out of there like the room was on fire.”

“We were done.”

“I know we were done, but would it have killed you to say a proper goodbye? Or to offer your friend some reassurance or congrats on passing the physical?”

“Avion is not a child who needs his hand held.
He understood the results and does not require pointless chatter about my leave-taking.”

“I don’t disagree with anything you said. But you missed the real point. It’s called manners. You know
, that thing known as common courtesy that you should extend to everyone, especially friends who are probably a little wigged out still from their experience.”

Aramus couldn’t help but sneer. “Manners? We are cyborg. What need do we have of those?”

“None. Yet considering how high and mighty you deem yourself, would it hurt you to show some?”

“You are aggravating.”

“Yet polite, even when you’re acting like an ass.” She smiled at him. He growled. She smiled wider.

“Please and thank you are a waste of time and oxygen.”

“So is pointless arguing, yet you seem to have no trouble with that.”

“
Don’t force me to shut you up.” With the erection he couldn’t seem to tame. Why did his ridiculous argument with the female have him harder than a steel girder? He had no problem tuning out the other annoying female he’d picked up. His dick behaved even though she kept blatantly displaying her feminine attributes. Yet this tiny doctor, with her goading remarks, smiles, and lack of fear, even when he barked, roused him. Enflamed him, messed with his circuits, and all without a single touch. No one had ever managed that before.

“Hmm,
do you intend to shut me up like you did last time?”

She seemed just as surprised as he
did by her reference to the kiss, but once out there, Aramus couldn’t help but remember it. The way her lips felt under his. How her body fit. It seemed he wasn’t alone in recalling that erotic moment. His sensors picked up the change in her body; her pulse raced, and her womanly musk, signaling arousal, enveloped him.

Not in control of his own limbs, he found himself bracketing her body in the hall, one hand flat on the wall on either side of her head. He leaned down until they were nose to nose. He stared into her wide blue eyes. Her breath caught. He waited for her to beg him to move away
, for fear to take over and cloud her gaze. Instead…she rubbed the tip of his nose with hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Eskimo kiss.”

Seriously?
Laughter barked from him, unexpected and loud. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

An impish smile tilted her lips
, and her eyes sparkled. “Me either. But you looked like you needed it.”

“No. What I need,”
want,
“is this.” He pressed his mouth to hers. Big mistake. Most awesome malfunction ever.

The two theories clashed,
but he ignored the logical part of his BCI warning him he should move away in favor of experiencing what only Riley seemed to evoke: passion. True passion. The kind that made his blood boil, his electronic heart race, and his mind sink into chaos.

Defective action on his part, but the pleasure, oh, the pleasure of her soft lips against his, her panting breath
, and the way she clutched at him made him welcome the aberration.

Until he heard the
stomp of approaching feet. He couldn’t tear himself away fast enough. Just in time too as Xylo rounded the corner.

“Everything al
l right, sir?” Xylo asked with his head tilted at an angle.

“Fine. Just taking our prisoner to her new quarters.”

“Would you like me to do that for you? I was heading in that direction.”

First impulse? No. He’d take her himself. Her quarters had privacy and a bed.
Wrong answer. “If you could. I have more important matters to attend to.”

He ignored the unmistakable flash of hurt that flitted across her face
and told himself he didn’t care.

She
didn’t remain injured for long, not judging by the way she snapped, “Is it time to chug a gallon of crude oil to lube your mechanical joints?”

“
Now who’s being rude?” he taunted. Why the flash of not one but two of her middle fingers made him smile he couldn’t have said, nor could he resist a parting, “Bye, bye, Doctor. Have a pleasant evening.”

No manners. Ha. He’d just shown her.

Insufferable jerk
, mocking her at every turn while at the same time sending out mixed signals. One moment he kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough, and the next he jumped away from her as if she bore the plague—to which he was immune.

He’s afraid of my human
cooties.
That or he was embarrassed and fearful one of his buddies might catch him kissing a human.
Well, maybe I don’t want to be caught kissing a machine.
The petty thought instantly sobered her. No matter what she’d been taught, or what Aramus did or said to convince her, she couldn’t equate the man she’d left behind with an unemotional robot. His kiss was too hot and too real to deny. Metallic parts, computer things in his brain or not, Aramus was nothing like a machine. Nothing like anyone she’d ever met.

Oh god, don’t tell me I’m suffering from that syndrome where a prisoner falls for her captor.
A valid theory, except she’d never wanted to drag any of her human abusers in for a smooch, and more…

Eyeing the ramrod back of the cyborg in front of her, she debated questioning him. Unlike her previous guard,
this one exuded an aura of don’t-mess-with-me, and she wasn’t entirely confident he’d restrain himself as well as Aramus and the others did. But it didn’t stop her.

“I’m Riley.”

“I know.”

It seemed a lack of manners was the norm among the cyborg. “And you are?”

“Xylo.” Curt, but at least he replied.

Interesting name.
“Nice to meet you, Xylo.” He grunted. Not the communicative type, but so far not the violent kind either. She forged ahead. “Do you know what’s in store for us?”

“No.”

She ventured another query. “I heard Aramus say we’re going to some new quarters. Will the others be there too?”

“No.”

“Are they dead?”

“No.”

“Where are they?”

He shrugged without turning or replying.

She ground her back teeth. “Anyone ever tell you that you suck at chitchat?”

Uh-oh.
His head rotated in that freaky way cyborgs had, especially given he continued to walk in an unerring line without hitting a wall. The coldness in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

“I am not here for your entertainment nor to answer your numerous questions. For the moment, you are, against my advice, passengers on our ship and as such will be accorded a modicum of liberty. Step out of line, or show yourself to be a nuisance, and rest assured, what little freedom we are granting will be terminated. Do I make myself clear?”

Nodding, she swallowed any other questions she had. Where she trusted Aramus to restrain himself, she had her doubts about this guy. He seemed to want an excuse.
Well, I’m not giving him one.
He halted a moment later in front a door.

“These are your new quarters. You will be monitored at all times while within them and when you leave.”

“You’re not locking me in?”

“No. But
, again, that is contingent on your behavior. Computer access has been disabled for you and your companions, so do not attempt to hack your way into our system. Such an act will be dealt with in a harsh manner.”

“I suck
with computers, so no worries there, but what if I need to talk to someone?” Like Aramus.

“Use the command,
‘computer I wish to speak to’ and the name of the person you seek. A communication channel will be opened, but keep in mind, all conversations will be monitored.”

“Yup. I get it. No privacy. Does this extend to when I pee? Going to listen to that too?” Tired of
his attitude, which reeked of distrust, she couldn’t help the sarcasm.

He didn’t deign to reply but continued his speech. “The mess hall is down this corridor, fifth door to your left. The common room is across from it. You may use both. The command center and engine rooms are off limits, as are crew quarters unless by invitation.”

“What about the medical bay?”

“What need do you have of the medical area?”

“I met Avion today and thought perhaps he’d like some company. Unlike others around here, he seems to have a sense of humor.”

“One moment while I ask.” His eyes lost focus for a moment
, and this time there was no mistaking it. He was talking to someone. He replied a moment later. “Aramus says you may, but you are not to perform any procedures on Avion or anyone else.”

“Darn, no game of
Operation? And here I was wondering if Avion would beep if the tweezers touched the side.” The joke went right over his head, as expected, so it didn’t surprise her when with one final derisive sneer, Xylo pivoted on his heel and left.

Alone,
Riley took stock of her new room. Small, it made her think of her dorm days with its single bed tightly made with a gray woolen blanket and flat pillow. Above the bed was a dusty shelf, empty of knickknacks. Along the wall across from the foot of the bed were two sliding doors. One opened onto a barren closet, the other, a tiny washroom with a basic toilet, sink and, oh yes, a shower. She couldn’t strip fast enough once she saw it.

Under the hot spray, she groaned. Heaven. It was only as she lathered up with the liquid soap that squirted from the built
-in dispenser that she recalled Xylo’s warning they would watch and listen at all times.

Suddenly aware, she peeked up, trying to see if she could spot the camera, or
had the cyborg lied? It didn’t really matter in the end. She needed to finish washing, so pretending she was alone, she soaped and rinsed, and if her hands rubbed longer, and more sensually than usual, she blamed the pleasure of the hot water on her actions.