Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears Page 3

  “We’ve been waiting a full cycle for your engineers to tell us.”

  Cyrus glowered at her impertinence. “My engineers have been unable to decipher the technology because they have never encountered anything remotely like it before. Technology is easier to backwards engineer when it still works!”

  “We were fighting for our lives.” Krysta scooted to the edge of her seat, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the chair’s arms. “Excuse me if we destroyed some body armor in the process!”

  “This isn’t going to help us find Saebin.” Lyrik sat beside Krysta, shooting her a warning glance. “She wanted to visit the planet. Is it possible she teleported to the surface?”

  Krysta shook her head, her posture relaxing a bit. “Not without Summoning the Storm. Teleportation has a very limited range.”

  “Are you sure she teleported?” Cyrus muttered, obviously still annoyed with Krysta.

  “What Lyrik described was a teleportation. I can almost guarantee she’s still on the Day Moon.”

  “Almost?”

  To her credit, she ignored Cyrus’s jibe and focused her gaze on Lyrik. “You said her aura turned red?”

  “I don’t know anything about auras. I’ve never been able to see one before.”

  “I don’t think you saw one today. I think you saw a glimpse of her destination.”

  “Hot, glowing red? You think she’s in Firestone Valley?”

  “I’ve tried to link with her, but that damn suit is fully operational.” She turned to Cyrus for a meaningful glare.

  “It better be.” Lyrik shook his head. “She won’t last long in Firestone Valley without external protection.”

  Chapter Three

  Saebin sank to her knees, her scream echoing in her ears. Danger! She was in danger. No, everyone was in danger. All around her massive spikes shot skyward. The gleaming black stones glowed as if fire had been trapped inside the rock. Smoke thickened the air, acrid and cloying. Her throat burned, and her eyes watered. A brutal wind whipped her hair across her face, blasting her skin with stinging particles.

  Pressing her forearms to her face, she curved into a ball. Make yourself as small a target as possible. Survival is the supreme objective. Her handler’s voice sounded in her mind. Her real handler, not Lyrik. Her mission must have gone horribly wrong. Nothing made sense. Voices of dead friends, strange planets, and rocks that burned ... she must be losing her mind.

  What was her objective?

  Survival. The supreme objective. She must focus her thoughts.

  She raised her head and peeked over her arms, squinting through the sooty air. Where was she? How had she gotten here?

  We’re orbiting the planet Ontariese. No, she would not listen to him! Operation Hydra was destroyed ... Your only real objective now is to stop rendering people unconscious and figure out what you want to be when you grow up.

  This was a test, or ...

  Pain sliced through her brain and stabbed down her spine. Her implants were overloading. Fear, confusion, and rage bombarded her from all sides. She screamed, the sound lost in the merciless wind.

  An image flashed into focus, accompanied by another burst of pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered. Her real handler stood in front of a man, her back to Saebin. Even without seeing her face, Saebin recognized her handler. Fear, resentment, and hatred rolled through her in icy waves. She couldn’t hear their words only their hushed urgent tones. Trepidation surged. They were the source of the danger.

  Gradually the image receded, and she slumped with a muffled groan. She had to find shelter, a cave or culvert deep enough to protect her. Paralyzed by the force of the wind, she huddled against the ground. She had to find ... Survival was the supreme --

  * * * * *

  Awareness returned more gently than it had departed. The roaring in her ears lessened, and she dragged air into her burning lungs. Her head throbbed, but the punishing wind had abated. Blinking repeatedly, she forced her eyelids to open.

  “Lie still. Some sort of debris tried to take your head off. I sealed the wound, but the compound isn’t quite set.”

  Lyrik. How had he found her so quickly? They were in a cave or a crude building. She couldn’t see beyond the small lamp he held in one hand, a water pouch hung from the other. A protective suit covered him from head to toe, the hood resting on his broad shoulders.

  “Where are we?”

  “In a storm shelter. They’re scattered all over the valley. The miners have gotten pretty good at predicting the storms, but sometimes they kick up without warning.” He knelt beside her, set down the lamp, and handed her the water pouch.

  She squirted water into her mouth, closing her eyes as the liquid soothed her parched throat. Already her implants were lessening the pounding in her head. Accelerated healing was one of the advantages of the implants.

  “How did you find me?” Before he could answer, she added, “Why did you bother?”

  “Krysta pointed me in the right direction, and like it or not, you are my objective.”

  “How did I get here?” There was so much she didn’t understand. How could she hope to sift through the facts, determine what was real and what was imagined, without confessing all she’d seen and sensed? He still thought she was D-159.

  “You teleported, sweetheart. Surprised the hell out of me. We’ll have a nice chat in a bit, but we have a more serious problem right now. Firestone dust is toxic, and we’re both covered in it. This shelter is constructed of stable Firestones. They’ll emit light and warmth, but they have to be charged. I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but pretend we’re surrounded and send out an energy pulse.”

  She sat up on the narrow bunk and lifted the lamp, holding it high so she could examine the room. The meager illumination didn’t reach far, but she could see the wall closest to her. Smooth, black blocks reflected the lamplight.

  “If you manage to knock me out, do not leave this shelter. The storm will probably last through the night.”

  If he meant for her to set off some sort of explosion, he would be caught in the blast. She didn’t understand his intent, but she sent out a small, controlled pulse. All around them blocks began to glow. Fascinated, she got to her knees.

  “Again. Stronger this time.”

  She sent out a strong, sustained pulse, and the shelter burst into light. Hundreds of blocks glowed with warm, red light. Her gaze swept the room, and she gasped, her implants quickly counteracting her response to the beauty. “This is what becomes of the stones I saw outside?”

  “After a long, involved stabilization process. The facilities are through that archway. We both need to shower and decontaminate our suits.” He paused, his gaze narrowing on her face. “When they brought you out of stasis, they tried to remove your armor, and your vital signs went haywire.”

  “I must intentionally disengage the sensors or it causes a system-wide overload. It prevents the technology from being recovered by an enemy and ensures I am not taken alive.”

  “That explains a lot.” He motioned for her to follow him. “But none of it’s important right now. We have to get this residue off before our skin blisters.”

  She rose and followed him into the adjoining room. Why had he searched for her? He’d saved her life; she couldn’t deny it. Still, it didn’t make sense. Or did it? If they had tried unsuccessfully to remove her armor ...

  Her thoughts sputtered out as she stepped into the adjoining room. The facilities offered no privacy. A row of showerheads protruded from one wall, separated from the sinks by recessed lockers. A half wall offset the toilets from the shower area, but the rest was one open space.

  Dr. Hydran and her handler had stripped her naked to demoralize her when she displeased them. This was even worse. Hydran was old, and her handler was female. Her mouth went dry, and knots formed in her stomach. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, but she’d never been naked in front of a young male.

  He unceremoniously stripped off his suit and th
e garments he wore beneath. “There should be clean uniforms in the lockers. Come on. We don’t have time for modesty.”

  The knots in her belly tightened with each garment he tossed aside. She couldn’t drag her gaze away from his spectacular body. Golden skin stretched tight over corded muscles. His tight ass bunched and flexed as he moved beneath one of the showerheads. He turned to face her, and her eyes widened owlishly.

  “You’re welcome to look, just get out of that suit. You have to wash the dust off now.”

  Dragging her gaze away from the proof of his virility, she looked at her hands. Her skin did feel unusually sensitive. Her knuckle conduits functioned without her armor, so she disengaged the six primary sensors and unfastened her body armor. Her gaze drifted back to his groin. Even relaxed against his thigh, his shaft was long and thick, and his balls ...

  With a chuckle, he turned to face the spray, presenting her with his broad back. She gave herself a mental shake and continued undressing. It wasn’t like she’d never seen a naked man before. She’d had access to a variety of simulations and stimulators, but nothing in her experience came close to the sheer power of this man’s body.

  He smoothed his hair back from his face with both hands, the muscles in his back rippling. “Am I going to have to come get you?”

  She peeled off her suit and moved up beside him, activating one of the showerheads. Cool water saturated her hair. She raised her face to the spray as much to hide her flush as to cleanse the dust from her skin.

  Lyrik ignored his growing erection and tried to focus on the task at hand. “Scrub your hair with this.” He pushed his hand into an indentation in the wall, and a gel covered his fingers.

  She followed his example, working the gel though her long hair. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her body armor had been form fitting, but naked the little hellion just about knocked the breath from his lungs. She was sculpted with lithe strength. Firm, round breasts begged for attention, her nipples pebble hard. How would she react if he dragged her beneath his showerhead and finished washing her himself? Her belly was perfectly flat. He couldn’t see more without looking directly at her.

  “The dispenser below it is soap. Scrub your face and hands thoroughly. The dust is fine. Make sure you get it all.”

  As she reached into the soap dispenser, her gaze swept the length of his body, lingering on his hardening shaft. She lowered her lashes and turned back toward the spray, color rising across her cheekbones. There was definitely a woman underneath the body armor. A secretive smile curved his lips. He abandoned all pretence and faced her.

  “I’m not sure you got it all.” He took a handful of liquid soap and warmed it between his palms. “Your skin looks irritated right here.” Moving with careful patience, he slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck. She started violently when his fingers skimmed the ring implanted in her flesh. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Stop touching me.” She shivered and grabbed his wrists.

  A smaller connector marred the upper curve of her left breast, and he’d glimpsed several others scattered along her spine. This must be how her armor interfaced with her implants.

  “I want to make sure you got the gash nice and clean. You don’t want it to get infected, do you?” He stepped closer, until her shower ran over them both. Teasing her temple with his fingertips, he slid his other hand down to her wrist. He held her right hand against her thigh and pulled her against him. Her warm, soft breasts pressed against his chest, and he sighed. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “What are you doing?” Her tone hitched, and she pushed against his shoulder with her free hand.

  Without her suit were her implants able to calm her physical responses? Interesting question. “Say your name, or I’ll kiss you.”

  Her eyes widened. “That is irrational.”

  “We already established that I’m irrational. Now say your name, or I’m going to kiss you.”

  “My distinction is --”

  He cut her off with his mouth. She wiggled against him, her stiff nipples teasing his chest. After brushing his lips against hers, he nipped the corner of her mouth.

  “You’re a woman, Saebin, not a machine. You’re naked, in the arms of a man who wants you. How does that make you feel?”

  She turned her face away, panting harshly. “Do you expect me to spread my thighs because you came after me?”

  “You’d definitely come first, and then we’d come together, but you’re jumping way ahead of the conversation. How does it make you feel? Is your heart racing?” He eased away and covered the upper curve of her breast with his hand, the sensor ring a cool reminder of all she’d suffered. “That’s a pretty powerful heartbeat, and you seem more emotional than you’ve been since we met.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your body armor works in tandem with the neurostimulators. Doesn’t it? One without the other isn’t nearly as effective.”

  “You had to paw me to figure that out?”

  “I’m not pawing you. Now this --” He cupped her breast, stroking her nipple with his thumb. “-- is pawing you.”

  She shoved him backward and hurried to the lockers, shaking the water off her body as she went. After drying off with a towel, she jerked on a uniform. He stepped away from the showerheads, squeezing the excess water out of his hair. A towel flew in his direction, followed in quick succession by a uniform top and bottom. He managed to snatch them out of the air before any of the items landed on the wet floor.

  Could he elicit anything other than anger from her? He considered the possibilities as he pulled on the simple pants. How far should he push her emotional responses? As much as he’d enjoyed having her in his arms, she was ultimately his responsibility.

  “Our suits need to be decontaminated. Open the large door next to the lockers.” Pausing with one hand on the locker door, she looked longingly at her body armor. He understood the look. The damn suit made her feel safe, protected -- lobotomized! How could he blame her for liking the cage when she’d never known life without one? “I want to do this quickly so I don’t scatter the dust all over the room.”

  She moved beyond the lockers and opened the door to the decontamination unit. He picked up both suits, amazed at the weight of her body armor. No wonder she was toned if she wore this thing on a regular basis. He stuffed both in the unit and activated the longest cycle.

  “Do you have dust on your arms now?”

  “That’s why I didn’t put on my shirt. We probably should have done the suits before we showered, but I’d already taken time to seal your wound. I didn’t want to risk another delay.” Crossing to one of the sinks, he scrubbed his arms and chest. “How’s your head? There were a variety of pain relievers in the Medkit.” When she didn’t respond, he glanced over his shoulder. Curse the ghosts of the Night Moon, she was gawking again.

  “My implants accelerate healing.” Her voice sounded suspiciously hoarse.

  Turning back to the sink, he continued scrubbing his torso with more thoroughness than necessary. What did she feel when she looked at him? Lust or simple curiosity? Did the implants make her incapable of feeling desire? He’d seen more than curiosity smoldering in her gaze as she stared at his naked body. Without turning around, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”

  She gasped. “That is irrelevant.”

  “Well, the way you keep staring at me makes me wonder if you’ve ever seen a naked man before.”

  “You did your share of staring, too. Are you a virgin?”

  He pulled on the uniform top as he turned around. “Why do you presume I’m not? There are significantly more men on Ontariese than women. Some men die without ever knowing the tender touch of a real woman.”

  “What?” She folded her hands into tight fists and narrowed her eyes. “Is that why I was captured? I am a soldier, not a breeder!”

  Chapter Four

  “You weren’t captured, Saebin. You were rescued.” Lyrik met her gaze through the red glow, h
is expression calm, yet compelling. “No woman is taken against her will on Ontariese. If anything, women have the power. You get to choose whom you sleep with and how long the social alliance will last. You would be --”

  Unwilling to dignify his nonsense with her attention, Saebin walked into the shelter’s main room. She was his objective. He would do whatever it took to ... to what? She didn’t understand his motivation. Why had he saved her life? He could be a genuinely compassionate person, or he could be his father’s charming puppet. How was she supposed to figure out which? She had to concentrate on facts.

  It was foolish to attack an ally.

  It was lethal to trust an enemy.

  With a frustrated growl, she glared at the archway. What was taking him so long?

  The storm shelter wasn’t designed for comfort. A row of narrow bunks lined one wall, while an extended, L-shaped bench hugged the opposite corner. Compartments of some sort were recessed in the wall beside the bench. Smooth counters, a large sink, and an elaborate faucet identified the food preparation area.

  He strode into the room a few minutes later, fully dressed at last. “What’s the last thing you remember before they brought you out of stasis?”

  She hesitated.

  He shook his head. “We’re stuck here until morning, maybe longer. We have to find something to do.”

  There was no denying the storm had been real. It had nearly ripped off her head. “I have fragmented images of a battle and a fire. The last thing I remember clearly is participating in a demonstration. My handler was pleased, so I was rewarded.”

  “How were you rewarded?”

  His long-legged stride brought him within an arm’s length of her in the blink of an eye. Why did his smile send her pulse racing and his gaze make her nipples tingle? She had never reacted to anyone as she was reacting to this man.

  “May I know your distinction?” Was that her breathless voice? She wasn’t playing her part very well. He needed to believe D-159 was in control.