Containing Malice (Rebel Cyborgs #1) - Cynthia Sax Page 0,56

armor-clad back, trying to calm him. “He’s not a fool.” She defended her male.

“He is a fool because, as he has been proclaiming over and over again, you’re his.” The female trailed them up the ramp. “A cyborg would rather rip out his or her own heart than kill the being genetically manufactured for him or her…even if that being is the most obstinate, arrogant male in the universe.”

Illona frowned. Malice was obstinate. And he could be arrogant at times. But she didn’t appreciate another being saying those things about him.

“Enter the last chamber, cyborg.” Cadet gestured along a hallway. “The first chamber contains newly freed cyborgs. They will tear your fragile human apart. The human and humanoids in the second chamber will be scared of you but they won’t try to kill you.”

Malice took two steps toward the chamber and stopped. “Valor?”

“Lead the way, C Model.” His friend’s voice originated from behind the cyborg female. “I’ll follow you into the last chamber.”

“Do whatever you want to do, E Model.” Cadet shrugged and moved in the other direction. “Your model usually adheres to that mandate.”

Valor gazed after her. “What do you have against E Models?”

“It’s best not to ask questions of Cadet.” Grudge, the C Model with one fully functional arm and one bared-to-the-mechanics arm, bumped the E Model forward. “She’ll relay information if she wants you to know it.”

“Ugh.” Valor’s lips twisted as he trailed them. “I’m free and my communications remain limited.”

“You can talk to me.” Illona smiled at the warrior. “It really touched my heart that you offered to stay on the planet with us.” She wouldn’t have allowed that, but she appreciated the sentiment. “You’re a good friend, Valor.”

Malice grunted his agreement.

“You would have stayed for me.” The E Model shrugged. “And my motive was partially selfish. I saw what your injections did for Malice. I would like that for myself.” He curled one of his purely mechanical arms. “I need something to compensate for this.” He smacked his metallic biceps. “My female, if I am fortunate to find her, deserves the best.”

“You are the best.” She sought to assure the warrior. He didn’t have to change to be loved. Any intelligent female would be proud to call him hers.

Malice’s rumble conveyed his unhappiness with her response.

“You’re the best for your female.” Illona hastily amended her statement. “As Malice is the best for me.”

That must have satisfied her possessive cyborg. He patted her ass and turned to the right. A door opened. They entered a small chamber.

Two females, both humanoids, huddled in a corner and sobbed. The space smelled of blood and fear. They had bruises and gashes on their arms, legs, faces. Some of the wounds were new. Some relayed a long duration of abuse.

“Fraggin’ hole.” A male voice redirected Illona’s attention. “Why isn’t she repairing?”

A human female writhed on the tiled floor. She moaned. The pain wrapped around that sound pulled at Illona’s soul. A huge medic pack had been set beside her.

A J Model cyborg pressed his human-like hands against a wound on the female’s chest. Blood flowed between his golden fingers.

“I can’t process what else to do.” Panic edged his voice.

Fuck. She had to help him.

“Malice?” Illona looked up at her warrior.

Malice met her gaze. His lips flattened. Thought lines furrowed on his forehead.

For two stomach-churning breaths, she worried he might reject her unspoken request. With him, she was a female first, a medic second, and they were situated in a strange ship with unknown beings. He’d want to protect her, keep her close to him, hold her. His protective nature would demand that.

But then her cyborg sighed, his great chest heaving, and she knew he understood the dire state of the human female, how their assistance could make the difference between the patient living or dying.

And she realized her warrior understood her. Warmth spread over her form. He truly knew her, her heart, her soul, the very essence of her. Malice comprehended that to deny her an opportunity to help would be to deny who she was. She was a medic. The urge to heal was part of her.

“Repair her.” Her cyborg lowered her until her booted feet touched the floor.

“Thank you, Malice.” She balanced on the tiptoes of her boots and planted a quick kiss on his chin. “I’ll do everything I can to heal her.”

“Don’t damage yourself.” His tone was brusque.

Illona said nothing because she couldn’t promise that.

She left her male, hurried to the human female, her new patient.