Cyborg Doms: Fane (9 page)

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Authors: H.C. Brown

Tags: #Noble Romance Publishing, #sci-fi, #Futuristic, #submission, #domination, #H.C. Brown, #dom, #sub, #Futuristic Paranormal Erotic Romance, #cyborgs

BOOK: Cyborg Doms: Fane
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"She isn't likely to want a permanent connection with me. I'll have enough trouble convincing her to insert it inside her body." Fane rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm not too sure she'll want to get involved with me after finding out what I am."

Jace regarded his friend with interest. Rather than indulge his needs at Whips, Fane had sat at the bar drinking heavily. Dr. Tamara Bright had made some impression on his friend. Fane was walking around like a lovesick pup. After one brief meeting Fane had fallen hard—hell, apparently, love at first sight really existed.

"Worry about your love life later. Right now, we need to rescue a woman who could blow our stay on this planet." He frowned. "What do you plan to do if she intends to squeal on us?"

"She won't." Fane smiled thinly. "She's too fucking ethical. That's probably why she decided a relationship wouldn't work between us. It must have been something like that, because this woman had it bad for me." He shook his head slowly. "Then she just closed up, but her eyes . . . man, they were begging me to take her."

"She is not the woman you know from your dreams." Jace sighed. "You have to take it slow. You're a stranger to her, and in truth, your AI probably intimidates her.

After spending four years as sex slaves, we expect a female to beg us to fuck her. We have to start again and act like normal people. Me, I'm happy with the subs at Whips. I don't have to be something I'm not with them. Perhaps, one day, I'll find myself a sweet sub and settle down."

Jace communicated with his AI and then grinned at Fane. "Send a message to her phone."

* * * * *

Tamara's phone vibrated in her hand. She glanced up at the camera and lay down on the bed, turning toward the wall. She flipped open the phone, read the message, and swallowed hard. Did Fane really expect her to remove the plastic covered module from inside her phone and insert it in her pussy? How the hell had he managed to contact her, anyway? Another message flashed.
Do it now.

Turning over the cell phone, she slid off the back cover, removed the battery as stealthily as possible, and dug out the miniscule module with her fingernails. She reconstructed the phone and pushed it back into her pocket. Clasping the tiny module in her hand, she rolled over and got up slowly. She made her way to the bathroom and used the toilet. Her face grew hot as she inserted the module.
I can't believe I'm doing
this.
If this were some trick by Peterson, she would die of shame. She straightened her clothes and moved to the basin to wash her hands.

"Hey, babe. Don't say anything. You can communicate with me by thought. When you
want to speak to me, think the words 'connect me to Fane'. Can you do this for me?"

Tamara stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her stomach clenched at the sound of Fane's deep, sensual voice. Heavens above, this was real. If the world had this technology, why was she paying so much a year to her phone company?

"Yes."

"I'm with a friend, someone like me. His name is Jace. Same goes with him, okay. We're
going to break you out."

"I haven't told them about you."
Tamara bent over the sink and splashed water on her face. "
You should leave before they find you. Contact your commander and tell him to sort
this out."

"We can rescue you and wipe all trace of the incident from their files."

"They have a hard copy of the scan."
Tamara dried her hands slowly. "
And
CT

footage of the fight; it's obvious you were wounded. You can't erase their brains, Fane, they
won't give up."

"You mentioned you had seen my technology in a movie. Can you tell me which one?

Jace insists he can use it as a Trojan in the Bio Scanner program. It will cover the scan. We've
already added notes to your private files to say my shoulder wound was a nick from a bullet and
you attributed the blood loss to
exertion."

Running a hand through her hair, Tamara walked casually back into her cell and sat down on the bed. "
You can access my private files?"

"Afraid so."

She stared at her hands.
"I'm going to wake up soon. This has to be some terrible
nightmare."

"It's not a nightmare. I'm sorry you were involved in all this; I wish we could start over.

Can you remember the name of that movie?"

"Sure.
Cyborgs from the planet Zion. Do you think it will work?"

"Yes."

"So why rescue me? If you can do what you say, I should be able to just walk out of here
in a few minutes."

"It's not that easy, I'm afraid. We're coming in as field officers. We'll need to access the
government mainframe on site. The damn thing has so many firewalls . . . we have to be careful
we don't trip a hacker alarm. If all goes according to plan, we'll arrange to interview you and
then escort you from the building."

Tamara stretched out on the bed.
"Won't they recognize you from the CT video?"

"No, I'll change my skin color, and before you ask, no, I'm not divulging any more
military secrets, okay?"

She crossed her legs at the ankles and stared at the ceiling.
"Fine, but I'm still
trying to comprehend how you just
happened
to turn up both times when I was in trouble. It's
too coincidental . . . and a little creepy. And why are you doing this for me? You must have
known I wouldn't rat on you to these morons."

"I had no idea you existed before the other night. I was just walking by when the gang
attacked you. It was my first night in town. I might be way off base, but I think we have a
connection, Tamara. It's true; I was heading to see you when they grabbed you. I wanted a
chance to ask you out again . . . I still do. If we don't click, that's fine. I'll walk away . . . but you
have to give a man a chance. Have dinner with me?"

"I guess I owe you."
Tamara covered her face with her hand to hide a smile
. "Sure,
dinner will be fine."

"Great. Fane out."

"Fane."
Tamara sighed; he had disconnected. Loneliness surrounded her. If only she could change and become the woman Fane needed. She pictured his face. A moan escaped her lips. Most women would fall at his feet. What kind of fool would contemplate refusing the advances of such a delicious man?

Chapter Seven

After concealing the flybikes in a patch of brush, Fane drove the hover car toward the Research and Development complex. Set out in the middle of nowhere, the morbid, black building rose out of the picturesque landscape like a malignant tumor.

The road dropped down ahead to reveal the entrance. They passed between two columns where a crude weapons scan infiltrated the vehicle. Fane stopped the car at the heavy metal gate. They both got out and took turns pressing their faces into the retina scanner. To Fane's relief, the gate hummed and swung open. They returned to the car and drove inside. Fane gave an involuntary shiver.
This is like driving into a tomb
. The tunnel curled downward to stop at an intimidating, steel gate with armed guards standing on each side. He glanced at Jace and initiated M. S.
"If we fuck up, it's going to be
difficult getting out of here alive."

"I never fuck up."
Jace threw him a grin.
"Well, once, when I signed up to join Gryd.

Trust me, I'll never make a mistake like that again."

One of the guards approached the car. Fane opened the window.

"Agent Jacobs, Agent Brand. If you park in Section 3 and take the elevator to Level 9, Agent Peterson is waiting for you."

Fane nodded. "Sure."

With a snort, he drove the car toward the slowly opening gate.
"How did you set
this up?"

"I sent him an email. He thinks we are part of the National Security Task Force."
Jace pointed to a flashing green light. "That would be Section 3."

* * * * *

Tamara glanced at her watch for the tenth time in half an hour. Four hours. She had been cooling her heels four—long—hours. How much longer did they expect her to wait? A man in uniform delivered a plate of sandwiches and a glass of milk. She had eaten the chicken and lettuce on rye, out of boredom. Pacing up and down the cell, she tossed around the idea of contacting Fane. She flopped down on the bed and closed her eyes.
"Connect me to Fane."

"Hey, babe. You okay?"

Lord, it was good to hear his voice. She bit back a smile at his fond familiarity toward her. No one had ever called her 'babe' before. She could get used to having him around. Heavens above, she would have to make sure she did not
think
that while they were on Mind Speak. Darn it—too late. Tamara draped her forearm across her eyes.

"Sure, if you can call being locked in a cell okay. What's happening?"

"We had quite a time convincing Peterson to give us access to the mainframe. He insisted
going over every detail of your case. It won't be too long now. Jace is working on it as we speak."

"Can you stay connected to me?"

"I wish I could, babe, but I need to Mind Speak with Jace. Trust me, a three way link gets
a bit crazy. I'll see you in a little while. Fane out."

Another hour dragged by before the door buzzed and swung open. Peterson led two men inside. Tamara got slowly to her feet, her gaze drawn to a golden-skinned man with hair like mercury flowing down his back. The man who followed him had skin the color of dark chocolate, his eyes covered with wraparound, tinted eyeglasses. His features were shockingly familiar—Fane.

She gaped at him, open-mouthed.

"Easy, babe, don't let Peterson see that you recognize me. We have to question you for
the record. Just play along and we're out of here."

Tamara shut her mouth and turned her gaze toward Peterson. She opened her hands, palms up. "How much longer do you expect me to cool my heels, Mr. Peterson?

I'm suffering from caffeine withdrawal. Don't you supply coffee to your prisoners?"

"Agents Jacobs and Brand are going to debrief you. If they're satisfied, you will be released." Peterson gave Tamara a curt nod and left the room.

The blond man must be Jace. He gave her a small smile and waved her to a seat at the table. He sat down opposite her, while Fane stood. The pair looked so formidable.

Tamara swallowed hard. She met Jace's gaze. "I hope you are Peterson's superior; the man is a complete idiot."

"I'm sorry you have been inconvenienced, Dr. Bright." Jace folded his hands in front of him on the table. "After careful consideration of the evidence, we agree with your version of events. We detected an anomaly in the Bio Scanner in the free clinic.

You are free to go." He smiled. "We will escort you home."

Tamara got to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. "Thank you."

* * * * *

An hour later, they reached the spot where they had hidden the flybikes. The area looked surreal bathed in twilight. Fane turned the hovercar off the road and headed through the long shadows toward the cave. As Jace predicted, the two agents remained unconscious. Fane stood motionless while Tamara examined both of them for injuries. When she was satisfied they were unharmed, Fane helped Jace carry the men back to the car. With a vulgar salute, Jace sent them on their way by remote, and then turned up the volume on the car radio to maximum. Fane grinned at his friend. "If that doesn't bring them around, nothing will."

Fane turned to Tamara. God, she had endured so much for him without complaint. He met her inquisitive gaze, took her arm, and led her toward the flybikes.

"I'm sorry you ended up in the middle of all this mess."

"I think there is more to you than meets the eye, Mr. Jacobs." Tamara took the helmet Fane offered and pushed it on her head.

Fane raised a brow. "I have to agree."

"I gather Jace is the same as you are?" Tamara waved a hand at Jace. "Enhanced?"

"Yeah, but I got the looks." Jace chuckled and mounted his flybike.

"Something else I need to know." She tilted her head and stared at Jace. "How do you shield personal thought from Mind Speak?"

"Unless you direct those thoughts into the conversation, private thought remain on a different . . . how can I explain?" Jace stared into space. "Wave length?"

"I understand." Tamara smiled. "Were you interfacing with your AI for the correct terminology?"

"Yes." Jace winked. "I often require the correct phrase to use with a beautiful woman."

"I doubt that, Mr. Brand," Tamara sighed.

Fane mounted the flybike, then turned to Tamara. "Are we still on for dinner?"

"Sure, I'm starving." Tamara climbed behind Fane. "Just take me home so I can change. Can you pick me up around six? There's a great little restaurant a block from my house." She lowered her voice. "What do you want me to do with the communication module?"

Fane rubbed his chin. "If you inserted it under your skin, we could keep in touch

. . . it might come in handy." He met her gaze. "Do you have a microchip inserter?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

* * * * *

That evening, Fane sat opposite Tamara in a booth at a small, Italian restaurant.

The aroma of spaghetti sauce had met them half a block away. Fane's stomach rumbled.

Lord, he could not stop staring at his date. She had changed into jeans and a cream silk blouse with tiny buttons. When she moved, he could glimpse the white, lace bra hugging her full breasts. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders in a burgundy sheet that looked like liquid satin. Even after the food arrived, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. He watched her curl spaghetti on her fork and lift the sauce-covered delight to her mouth. God, he wanted to taste those full lips and lick the sauce from her chin.

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