Twisted Metal Heart - Eve Langlais Page 0,16

and if she was being absolutely ruthless, then she would have never brought him inside in the first place. But she had, and now she couldn’t put him back out. Because, unlike Alfred, she did feel.

“We are not tossing him out. We will fit him with the limbs and give him a day or so to adjust. Then we leave.”

“Leave?” Alfred straightened. “Are we going on a trip?”

“We’re moving.”

“Temporarily or a full relocation?” Alfred, always practical.

“Full.” She sighed. She’d miss this place. Fully equipped, and it had taken years to outfit it the way she wanted.

“Destination?” he asked.

Again, the right answer nagged her. She should be moving to the next forgotten citadel, or an underground bunker. She knew where there were a few. Dotted throughout the Emerald domain, and elsewhere, they were the remnants of a time when humans still mostly lived underground. A few of the more innovative, through the use of clever machinery, could shift their observatories topside. The entire underground system was linked by tunnels, a crazy warren of intersections and dead ends. Rooms that spilled into sudden lakes, full of dangers. Places where the floor disappeared and the hole went on forever.

It was abandoned when humans emerged to reclaim the surface. These days, only the main tunnel through the mountain and its entrance were guarded by the Enclave and fairly safe, but the sections leading off of them were no longer wandered because of the danger they posed.

Desperate people didn’t care about danger. Riella had been using the tunnels for more than a decade now. The citadel had been her home the longest. She’d finally gotten everything going just right.

Then he arrived.

She realized she’d been staring blankly, and Alfred had said something.

“Well?” he grumbled impatiently. The one emotion he was good at.

“I was thinking.”

“Not again. Nothing good can come of that.”

She frowned. “That was sexist.”

“Has nothing to do with your gender but the fact that your grand thoughts often lead to bad ideas.”

“They do not.”

“I am not going to waste time elucidating every incident. Since you are determined to waste these limbs…” Alfred had a pair of drones grab the finished arm and leg.

“Maybe the test was wrong.”

“He’s not a Deviant gene carrier and shows no sign of anything but basic pre-Fall attributes.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Evolution happens for a reason,” Alfred said, not for the first time.

“I know, but normal evolution has a species moving the same way. The Deviant gene is diverse.” It could be psionic based, coming completely from within, or visible. The most coveted being wings, but the most common thing they got was horns and tails, plus leathery skin.

“With the exception of humans, the Deviant gene is active in every single living animal species that has been studied thus far on the surface.”

“Which is not very many, given those same scientists are too scared to actually leave their domes and find more examples to study.”

Alfred rolled his shoulders and then rolled toward the exit. “Perhaps at our next location you could decide to have a hobby that involves the wildlife instead of disagreeing with every single thing I say.”

“Now, Alfred,” she teased. “That wouldn’t be any fun.”

“You know humor isn’t my strong point.” He paused by the door of Titan’s room. “You didn’t lock it.”

She shrugged. “Where is he going to go?”

Alfred cast a look at her. “Do you want him to see everything? What if he told the wrong person?”

“It won’t matter what he says, because we’re leaving.”

“You’re what?” The door had opened as she spoke and Titan sat on the stool just on the other side, wearing a loose shirt and pants.

She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t because her lips tingled remembering the kiss. She pressed her legs tight.

“You should strip and get on the bed so we can get started.” She gave the brusque order.

He didn’t move. “Before you do anything, I want to see them.”

Rather than ask permission, Alfred had the drones lay the limbs across the bed. Titan used the stool to scoot across the floor. He reached for the leg first, pulling it over his lap, a frown between his brows.

“It’s not what I expected.”

“I went with a simple model for you. Something realistic,” she explained.

“If you ignore the metal.” His jaw tightened. He ran his hands up the smoothness of it. “How is it made? Tri-dimensional printer?”

She shook her head. “Each piece is poured into molds based on the design then assembled by hand.”

He looked away from the leg to

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