Breathing Vapor (12 page)

Vapor, Ace and Thrasher dropped their pikes and wiped the blood, dirt and sweat from their fit physiques. Daggers and guns filled the sheaths and holsters built into their battle armor.

Vapor might have to use his weapons to protect Pepe. “I don’t have time for this.” Mira curled her top lip. “I have a garment fitting and my father insists that K000156 accompany me.” She rolled her eyes. “It can tidy itself as we walk. I assume the best warrior in the universe can handle two tasks at once.”

“You might need more than one cyborg. There’s a purifying this planet rotation.” Hun’s eyes were feverishly bright. “I volunteered for it but it was decided the warriors could handle the locals.”

He had volunteered to kill innocent males, females, children. Mira dragged air into her lungs, rage coloring her sight red. “Did I ask your opinion? No, I did not. Stick to what you do best, soldier—teaching stupid machines to kill.”

She turned and stalked toward her transport ship, shaking with anger and grief and a solar storm of equally turbulent emotions. Vapor followed her, his proximity providing a sliver of comfort.

She needed him. She couldn’t face this alone.

Mira opened the door to her ship and plunked her ass on the seat, placing her pack by her feet. Vapor claimed the spot across from her.

The door closed. She inputted the destination into the control panel, verified that her transport hadn’t been tampered with.

The ship moved and Vapor reached out, hooked his arm around her waist and hauled her onto his lap.

She squeaked, surprised. He covered her lips with his, plunged his tongue into her mouth and took what he wanted from her.

She wanted this also. Mira straddled his waist, the action pushing the hem of her fabric wrap up to her waist. His kiss was a reminder that there was more to life than killing and death and grief. It contained hope, lust, caring, perhaps more.

And fuck, he tasted good, like male and metal. She threaded her fingers into his hair, holding onto the short strands, striving to make the embrace last, to delay the darkness they could both face.

As though sensing her desperation, Vapor ravished her with his tongue, whipping her flesh, branding her with hard, deep strokes. His nanocybotics bubbled in her mouth. His breath wafted over her cheeks. He was inside her, all around her form, his big hands cupping her ass.

Mira ground against him, her need and frustration building. He was encased in body armor, his shoulders, chest, cock inaccessible. This would have to be enough.

It was more than she deserved.

Because Pepe, damn it, Pepe could be dead.

She sucked back a sob and turned her head, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Vapor petted her, moving his hands from the top of her head to the small of her back, then reversing direction, his touch allowing her to regain control of her emotions.

“Talk to me.” His voice was low and deep and soothing.

“It’s nothing.” She couldn’t voice her fears.

“You’re a strong female. You don’t break down over nothing.”

Mira said nothing, unable to say the words.

“Our destination is in District 2.” Vapor played with her left ear, tracing its shape, tugging on her earlobe, flicking it with his fingers. “It has already been purified, which is the only reason I’m allowing this trip.”

She straightened, frowning. “You couldn’t stop me from going there.”

“I could and I would.” He sounded certain about that. “Purifying is dangerous for every being. It isn’t led by logical cyborgs, female. The warriors are humanoid, and after a few kills, their puny brains stop processing thought. They’re driven by bloodlust, chasing and killing any being who moves.”

Those animals could be hunting Pepe. Mira trembled. “Some of the beings could have escaped.”

“The warriors have lifeform scanners.”

“But beings could have fooled those scanners and escaped.” She held his gaze. “That
is
possible, right?”

Vapor’s eyes softened. “Mira, it’s unlikely that—”

“Answer the question.” She didn’t want his sympathy. She needed the truth.

“It
is
possible,” he conceded.

“Good.” She rested her head on his armor-covered chest. “That’s all I need to know.”

Vapor ran his fingers through her hair, mussing her carefully arranged upswept do, freeing each strand. “Does it matter to you if some of the beings survive?”

“Pepe is a sweet innocent child. Of course, it matters.” She wasn’t the monster she pretended to be.

“This is war.” Vapor curled a tendril around his index finger and pulled gently. “Children are often casualties in battle. You’re the Designer’s daughter. You know this.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

He sighed. “No, that doesn’t make it right.”

Silence stretched. Mira twisted the material of her skirt, making the M hidden in its design ripple. “I need your help,” she confessed.

Asking for assistance was hard for her. She’d been alone for so long, guarded, independent. But she’d swallow her pride and her fears if it meant Pepe might live.

Vapor didn’t say anything.

“I’m human. I can’t control my emotions as cyborgs can.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. “But it’s essential that I do. I have an image to maintain.”

“Your Mira the Merciless image.”

She flinched at that label. “Yes, my Mira the Merciless image. The situation we’re walking into will be…hard. I might lose control.” She was on the verge of doing that right now. “And I can’t, Vapor. Emotion holds truth and the truth is dangerous for every being I care about.” Including him.

“I’ll protect you.” He increased his hold on her.

“You won’t allow me to fall apart?”

“You won’t fall apart, not in public,” her cyborg assured her. “Only when you’re safe, when we’ll alone.”

“Thank you.” Mira relaxed, trusting him to safeguard her.

They’d find Pepe, Aumakua, Aumakua’s mate. They’d transport them off the planet. No other being would know of her involvement. Vapor’s life wouldn’t be put at risk.

Everything would be okay.

Chapter Eleven

Vapor had vowed to help Mira contain her emotions. That could be the greatest challenge he had ever faced.

Because his little human was lying. This time, she told her lies to herself, clinging to hope where there was none.

Vapor held her close to his chest.

Yes, it
was
possible for a being to fool a lifeform scanner. He had to concede that truth to her. A K model cyborg with the required tools and an in depth knowledge of the device could manage it.

Fooling a lifeform scanner was beyond the skills of a humanoid female and her small offspring, however. If Aumakua and Pepe had been in the districts during the purifying, they were now dead. They wouldn’t have escaped the warriors.

Thus far, no beings had survived. All of the structures and streets around them were devoid of life, eerily empty of sound and movement. The ship slowed.

“You’ll follow my orders.” He cupped Mira’s chin, lifting her gaze to his. “If I tell you to move, you move, without question, without hesitation. Do you comply?”

“I comply.” She nodded. He’d kill some being happily to erase the sadness from her eyes. “And if I fall apart—”

“You won’t,” he promised. “I’ll prevent that from happening.”

The ship stopped. Mira looked out the viewing panel and her breath hitched. She didn’t move, frozen in her seat, her hands still.

He followed her gaze. Blood splatters covered the outside of a structure, the gore spaced shoulder widths apart.

The corpse retrieval units had already swept the area, disposing of the bodies. Vapor didn’t have to see the faces to know the victims.

The beings executed weren’t males convicted of heinous crimes or enemy warriors waging war on the humans. The victims were innocent males, females, offspring whose only crime was residing on a planet the Humanoid Alliance coveted.

Some humans were cruel. Vapor rubbed his female’s back. Not all were. The devastation on Mira’s beautiful face shredded his mechanics.

“Did you scan the area?” Her voice was small.

“I detect no beings.”

“That means nothing.” Mira clung to her false hopes. “The lifeform scanning technology incorporated into your design is the exact same kind that the Humanoid Alliance uses.” She clasped her pack and opened the door. The scent of blood, of gunfire, of human fear assaulted Vapor’s nostrils. She must have smelled it also, because her nose wrinkled. “Aumakua and Pepe fooled the warriors. They’ll fool you also.”

“
If
they fooled the warriors,” Vapor amended. “Which is—”

“Possible. You said it was possible.” Mira stepped out of the ship. He wanted to pull her back, to protect her from the sights she would see, the truths she’d learn.

If she accepted those truths. Vapor followed her. She might not. Mira hadn’t believed her mother’s death, not at first, and she’d seen that with her own eyes.

The streets were empty. There was no chatter of offspring, not even the rasp of a breath, other than their own. The white fabric of Mira’s garment stood out like a beacon. If the locals had fooled the lifeform scanners, they’d be able to see her from five structures away.

“When I was last here, this street was crowded with beings, merchants selling their goods, children playing, mothers yelling at the older siblings to watch their younger brothers and sisters.” Mira turned slowly. “There was so much life, so much love.”

Now, there was nothing, only the remnants of death. The structures were vacant, awaiting beings who would never return.

A scrap of green fabric fluttered in the breeze, catching Vapor’s gaze. The material was positioned beside a small crimson puddle. He inhaled, identifying the source being.

Fraggin’ hole. This would destroy his female.

“Ulu.” Mira rushed to the puddle, picked up the cloth doll, brought it to her nose and breathed in deeply. “Why are you out here on your own? Pepe must be missing you.”

Pepe wasn’t missing any being. Vapor said nothing, hovering near his female, waiting for her to realize this. He didn’t know what he’d do then, how he’d prevent her from falling apart.

Mira’s gaze drifted to the puddle and her breath hitched. Her composure slipped for a heartbeat. Then she fixed her mask of indifference back in place.

Except her mask was no longer whole. Vapor saw the cracks in it, sealed over with a smile that was too serene to be real.

Mira’s chin tilted upward. “She might be hiding inside, too scared to retrieve her doll.”

Vapor said nothing, allowing her that lie and she entered the small shop, navigating the debris. Her footwear was as impractical as always, slips of material safeguarding her from nothing. Contact with one sharp piece of metal would slice her pale feet open.

He trailed her, ensuring she didn’t make such an error. The techniques of the human warriors didn’t impress him. They’d used excessive force as they blasted through the door, shooting multiple times when one well-placed projectile would have sufficed.

Mira wandered through the crowded space. Rolls of fabric were propped against the walls. Containers of stones and feathers and other objects were stacked around them. Some were toppled, the contents littering the floor.

“Aumakua was making this for me.” Mira touched a garment hanging on a fabricated figure. “See this M.” She traced the design hidden in the feathered top. “Tau Cetians believe that clothing should identify the wearer. That way, their deities don’t become confused. They have personal symbols. Since I didn’t have one, Aumakua used the first letter in my first name.”

She said this as though it had been an honor, a gift she treasured. Vapor’s dread compounded. His female cared, perhaps too much.

Mira tucked the doll into her pack and pulled at a loose fastener. A fastening device was attached to one end. “Oh.” She stared at it.

Vapor stood beside her, not knowing the significance of the fastener.

“This isn’t right.” Mira’s voice rose, a hint of hysteria clinging to her words. “This isn’t right at all. Aumakua was meticulous with her tools. She always put them away. Why would she leave this here?” Her fingers trembled. “Oh, fuck.” Her beautiful face crumpled. “She didn’t have any advance warning. She was working on my garment when they came.”

“Mira, look at me,” Vapor commanded.

She complied, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Hold it together.” He gave her the speech he’d give a warrior. Because that’s what she was—a warrior. Her battles might not be deadly but they were as emotionally fierce.

Mira sniffed once, twice, three times, held her breath, exhaled. She did this twice more and the tears receded. “Aumakua could have escaped with her male and with Pepe. They could have fled through the tunnels, made their way to safety.”

“They didn’t escape.” He had to be cruel or his reckless female would search those tunnels, putting herself in the path of Humanoid Alliance warriors. “In your heart, you know this.”

“They have to be okay, Vapor. I have the credits they need to move off planet.” She reached into her pack and removed a handful of chips. “See? I’ve been saving these for Aumakua. They can pay for transport, leave this place. Pepe will be protected, out of the reach of any warrior.”

Shoot him now. Vapor would do anything to take the pain from his female’s expression. “You’ll use those for other beings.” She could sell more about-to-be-decommissioned cyborgs. Frag, she could sell him if it eased her distress. “Those beings—”

“I’ll fail them too.” Mira’s shoulders slumped. “I fail every being.”

The chips fell from her fingers. Vapor caught them, placed them back in the pack. The doll stared at him with round, lifeless eyes. “You don’t fail every being.”

“Name one being I haven’t failed,” she mumbled, her chin tucked against her neck.

“Me. I ordered you to hold it together and you are.”

“Barely.” She didn’t meet his gaze.

“Barely counts.” Vapor thought about other beings she’d interacted with. “You didn’t fail K017282,” he guessed, not knowing the full story behind the sale of the newly manufactured cyborg.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know.” He had to be honest. Cyborgs didn’t lie. “But I kept in contact with him until he moved beyond our communication range. He was happy, cooing and making those newly manufactured unit sounds.”

“Was he?” Mira stepped forward, pressing herself against him.

He wrapped his arms around her. “Yes.”

“I’m glad.” She sighed. “They were a very nice couple. He’ll be free and safe and loved.”

“Loved?” Vapor snorted softly. “They’re human. He’s a cyborg.” Humans didn’t love cyborgs. They used them like the weapons they were designed to be, punishing them when they malfunctioned, decommissioning them when they had no farther need for them.

“I’m human and I loved K017282.” Her voice warmed. With love. For a newly manufactured cyborg. He struggled to wrap his processors around that. “How could you not adore him? He has those chubby cheeks and curly brown hair and dark eyes.”

Vapor didn’t have chubby cheeks but he did have curly brown hair and dark eyes. Could she love him also?

Did he want her to?

“We should return to the ship.” There were no signs of life around them but that could change quickly. The Humanoid Alliance warriors could perform another sweep of the area. He didn’t want them anywhere near his female.

“Pepe—”

“There’s nothing more we can do here.” He stepped back and looked down at Mira. Frag. Her eyes had that shine again. “And it isn’t safe.”

“I don’t want to go back to the compound.”

He didn’t either. “We don’t have to go back but we can’t stay here.” He turned her toward the exit. “We have to leave.”

“Give me a moment.” Mira plucked the doll from her pack and rushed to a small ass support positioned beside a much larger one. “In case, she returns.” She placed the doll on the seat, propping its head against the armrest.

Vapor waited. Mira gazed at the two ass supports for a moment and then adjusted the doll’s head, turning it to face the door. It looked like it was waiting for the humanoid offspring to step over the threshold, to scoop it into her arms and play with it again.

That wouldn’t happen.

His female must have reached that same realization. Her bottom lip quivered.

“Mira--”

“One moment.” She held up one of her index fingers.

“One moment,” Vapor conceded, unable to deny her anything.

Mira crouched down beside the tiny ass support. “Take care of her, Ulu.” She gazed intently into doll’s eyes, as though she was trying to will that request into being. “Tell Pepe I love her, that she’s my ho'aloha also.” She glanced up at Vapor. “That means friend.”

“I know that.” His voice was gruff.

“When she held out her arms to me, I wanted to pick her up, to tickle her tummy and make her laugh. I really did.” Mira sniffled. “But I had a role to play. And now. And now.” Her bottom lip quivered.

And now it was too late.

If she finished that sentence, she’d cry and he couldn’t allow that. He’d given her his vow that she wouldn’t fall apart in public.

“Hold it together, female.” Vapor scooped Mira into his arms. She didn’t make a sound, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t disobey me again.” He stomped through the rumble, crushing the debris under his boot heels.

“Again?”

“I told you to leave and you didn’t.” He entered the ship, carrying her.

“Oh.” Her curves bounced against his muscle as he sat. “But—”

“No buts.” Vapor released her. “No excuses. Undress.” He entered routes into the ship’s control panel. They’d circle the compound, passing through already purified districts, constantly moving yet in little danger.

“Undress?”

“You don’t want me to repeat that order.” He turned his hands, showing her his palms.

She blushed a pretty pink. “No, I don’t.”

That was a lie. He breathed in the scent of her arousal. His female wanted his hands on her ass and he wouldn’t disappoint her. He’d reprimand her until the tears fell. Then he’d hold her as she cried, grieving for the family she’d been unable to save.

“I won’t disobey you ever again.” Mira sounded as though she believed this untruth.

She unfastened her garment, shimmied until the fabric fell to her feet, revealing white skin, pink nipples, a triangle of fine blonde hair. Her breasts were large, her waist rounded, her hips perfect for grasping.

He gazed at her with open admiration, humbled that she was his. A weaker female might have fidgeted while a male perused her naked body. His little human stood proudly, with her arms at her sides, her head held high.

“Come here.” He patted his thighs.

Mira hesitated for a heartbeat and glided forward, walking as though she was accepting an honor, not receiving a reprimand. She lowered her lush form over his legs.

Vapor cursed his body armor, wishing the contact were skin on skin. He was aroused even with the barrier, his cock pressing against the protective garment.