Breathing Vapor (17 page)

“Lydna will test you,” Mira warned. “When she approaches you, don’t say anything, move, or show emotion. She can’t be trusted.”

“We’re cyborgs, the best warriors in the universe.” Vapor’s tone was dry. “We’ll survive a confrontation with one human female.”

She rolled her eyes. The ship stopped and she stood, preparing to exit. His reckless female was accustomed to operating on her own, taking risks she shouldn’t.

Vapor wouldn’t allow her to do that. She was his universe and he’d perish without her. “Wait.” He blocked her departure with one of his arms. “I’ll leave the ship first, then you step out, then Strive will follow you.” His female would be tucked between the two of them. “We’ll protect you.”

“I know you will.” The lack of doubt in her voice pleased him.

Vapor exited the ship. Human warriors armed with long guns circled him. The males appeared shell-shocked and weary, smelled of sweat and urine. Their uniforms were tattered and bloody, their faces smudged, dark circles hugging their reddened eyes.

A boom sounded. The pathway quivered under his feet. A male fell off the wall, screaming as he plummeted to his death.

There would be more deaths before the planet rotation was over. Beings gathered in the tunnels below the ship.

“It’s clear.” Vapor moved to the side, allowing his female and his friend to leave the ship.

Mira had donned her Merciless disguise yet again. She sniffed haughtily at the warriors, picked her way prissily along pathway, expecting every being to get out of her way.

And they did. The males shuffled aside as though she was their commander, giving her the respect she warranted.

Their deference wasn’t due to Mira being a socialite or the Designer’s daughter or because she wore the all white uniform of the higher classes.

Her strength of character scared these rough warriors shitless. They instinctively recognized her as the badass she was.

Vapor trailed her, proud as all frag that she was his female.

Some being must have notified Lydna of their arrival because, as they climbed the ramp to the domicile, the doors opened and she strode out, white fabric swirling around her fragilely thin legs.

Looking at her, a warrior wouldn’t know he was in the midst of a battle. Lydna’s blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, her face unnaturally smooth and her eyes hard with a cold he suspected was bone deep. A pack hung from one of her elbows.

“You remembered my cyborgs.” Lydna flicked her gaze over them. “I knew you’d come through for me, Mira.” She kissed the air by Mira’s cheeks. “These human warriors are incompetent.”

“These human warriors have been dying for your ungrateful ass,” one of them grumbled. His voice was too low for his mistress to detect.

Vapor had cyborg hearing. He heard everything.

Another boom echoed.

“The savages are pounding at your gates.” Mira’s eyes gleamed. “You’re very popular. One of the perks of being the wife of a council member, I suppose.”

“It’s a perk I could do without.” Lydna drifted her hands over Vapor’s stomach. He was grateful for the body armor protecting him from her touch.

“You’ve paid a high price for your position.” His female’s eyelids partially lowered, hiding her eyes. “Was it worth it? I’ve always wondered.”

Lydna examined Strive’s form. “Have you?” She smacked his ass. The cyborg grumbled through the transmission lines.

“I have.” Mira’s reckless streak was showing. That worried Vapor. She could do anything. That spontaneity would make it more difficult for him to protect her.

“Yes, it was worth it.” Lydna met Mira’s gaze. “I’d do it all again.”

Mira’s breath hitched. “All of it?” She had to be thinking of her mother, how Lydna had betrayed her.

“All of it.” The older female bared her teeth in a savage smile. “I’m proud of my contribution to my husband’s success. I’ve enjoyed every task I’ve undertaken.”

“You’ve enjoyed them.” His little human stiffened. She slid her hands into her pockets.

Vapor casually rested his palms on the handles of his guns.
If she pulls her weapon, we’ll shoot the warriors,
he transmitted to Strive. The humans would be dead before they realized her intentions.

“You sound surprised that I’ve enjoyed them.” Lydna’s laughter was brittle. “You shouldn’t be. You derive the same joy from hurting others.”

Mira took a step toward her. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know everything.” Lydna stood in front of Strive. “I understand how thrilling it is to see others suffer, to bring them to their knees, make them beg, bleed, die.” She slapped the cyborg’s face. “It’s human nature for the strong to savor our power over the weak.”

Can I kill her?
His friend kept his face expressionless.

I have that honor.
Vapor doubted his softhearted female would be able to take a life. She wasn’t a killer like he was. She cared too deeply, felt too much.

Then Lydna turned, giving him a clearer view of the pack she was carrying, and Vapor revised his prediction.

Mira was going to shoot the socialite. Multiple times.

Chapter Sixteen

Lydna had enjoyed betraying her mother. Mira curled her fingers around the gun hidden in her pocket. She would do it again.

But did she deserve to die? Could Mira kill her?

Gunfire echoed around them. Two males fell from the wall. One screamed. The other was silent, already dead.

Mira glanced at Vapor. His gaze was wary but not worried.

A warrior jogged over to the males guarding them. Blood streamed down his right arm. His face was streaked with grime. Their conversation was too quiet to hear. Every couple of moments, they looked at Lydna, shook their heads, continued talking.

All but three warriors left, heading for the wall.

“If the insurgents breach the wall, we’re all fucked,” one of the remaining warriors explained.

“What did you say?” Lydna raised her eyebrows.

“The three of us will protect you.” He wisely decided not to repeat his words. “Ma’am,” he added as an afterthought.

“Cyborgs are protecting me now.” Lydna smacked Strive’s chest. “There’s no need for you incompetent fools to hover around me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The three human warriors gave her sarcastic salutes and lumbered away to join their buddies on the wall, muttering more comments Mira was unable to decipher.

“That mouthy male couldn’t protect any being.” Lydna curled her top lip. “He acts tough now, but during the purifying, he cried like a baby, said he didn’t sign up to kill kids. He looked at them as though they were humans, not the ungrateful savages they were.”

Everything inside Mira froze. “You watched the purifying?”

“As you mentioned, being the wife of a council member has its perks.” She preened, rubbing the side of her pack.

Mira’s gaze dropped and she sucked in her breath, the pain slicing her into two. The M in the design was predominant, the letter formed with pure white feathers.

Aumakua had created the pack for her. Lydna carried it.

She had witnessed the purifying.

Red veiled Mira’s vision. The socialite had watched Aumakua and her sweet three-solar-cycle-old daughter, Pepe, die, and had done nothing to prevent it. She viewed witnessing their killing as a ‘perk’, saw a child’s death as entertainment, had mocked a warrior for not wanting to fill the role of executioner.

“Those so-called savages were innocent beings, Lydna.” Mira stepped toward her, unable to remain silent. “They were rebelling because we starved them. They were unable to feed their children, their elderly, themselves. We forced them to fight us.”

Lydna’s smile wavered. “Careful, Mira. You sound like your mother, and we both know what happened to her.”

“Yes, we both know what happened to her.” Mira glared at the female. “You betrayed her, sold your friend’s life for your cushy place in society.”

More warriors toppled from the walls. The gates behind them shook.

“This conversation is becoming boring.” Lydna waved her hands. “Your mother was a traitor. The locals were little more than animals. I regret nothing that I’ve done.”

“That lack of regret is why you have to die.” Mira extracted the gun from her pocket and pointed it at her mom’s former friend. Her hands trembled. “You’ll never change, never become a good being.”

She had to do this. She had to stop her.

“Put that away.” Lydna rolled her eyes, not taking the threat seriously. “The Humanoid Alliance will suppress the rebellion.” The crack ringing through the air belied her words. The gate was straining inward. It wouldn’t hold for many more moments. “Your cyborgs will protect me from the barbarians.”

They won’t protect her from anything. “Loyalty is earned.”

“Oh, Mira, you are so naïve.” The older female laughed. “Loyalty is bought. If you have enough credits, you can purchase any life. Or, in this case, any machine.” She put her face close to Strive’s. “They follow my instructions.” She lifted her hand.

Fuck no. Lydna wouldn’t hurt another being.

Mira pressed the trigger. The boom-boom of gunfire temporarily deafened her. The recoil knocked her backward. She slammed into Vapor’s chest.

Her cyborg held guns in both of his hands. He turned, taking her with him, and shot the human warriors approaching them.

Mira looked over her shoulder. Lydna lay on the ground, her body still, red blossoming over her white fabric wrap.

“I killed her.” Waves of hot and cold swept over Mira. “I killed Lydna. She’s dead because of me.” Bile rose in her throat.

“No, you didn’t.” Vapor’s voice rumbled along her spine.

“I did. She’s dead.”

“She
is
dead,” he confirmed. “But you didn’t kill her. You were honest when you said you weren’t a good shot. You were standing an arm’s length from her and you missed.”

“That’s impossible.” She couldn’t have missed.

“If I hadn’t verified it with my own vision system, I would have questioned it also, but I know what I saw. You missed.”

Vapor was a cyborg. He didn’t lie. “But--”

He flung himself forward, covering her body with his, the impact pushing the air from her lungs. An explosion blasted stone and other debris over them. Her cyborg grunted.

“The insurgents have breached the walls.” Strive stood beside them, covering them with gunfire. His voice was muffled as though he was positioned at the far end of the site.

“We’re moving.” Vapor pushed his form upward.

Thunder rolled and the ground to the right of Mira sank. The scent of fuel burned her nostrils. She scrambled away from the gaping hole.

Vapor grabbed a clump of soil. “Stay still.” He rubbed the dirt over her garment. “The white is a beacon.” He turned her, coating her back. “They can see you from across the yard.”

“Vapor,” Strive yelled.

Her cyborg rolled her until she faced him once more. “Strive will be in the lead. I’ll be behind you. Don’t look back and don’t decrease your speed unless he does, understand?”

She nodded.

“Fraggin’ hole,” Strive cursed. “They blew up the ship.”

“It’s better that they did that with us not in it.” Vapor pulled Mira upright. “We’ll leave on foot.”

There was no opportunity to glance at Lydna again or to absorb what had happened. They ran, passing destruction and death. Bodies lay around them, limbs severed, fingers twitching. The ship was split open, pieces of it scattered on the pathway.

Blood splattered and more males fell as Strive and Vapor shot a gap through the incoming insurgents. They passed the crumbling walls.

Mira didn’t look down, aware that the sponginess under her boots wasn’t the hard ground. Her eyes and nostrils stung, the air heavy with smoke and gunfire residue.

She concentrated on following Strive, on moving as quickly as she could, cognizant that she didn’t have a cyborg’s speed or muscle. She was slowing them down, putting her warriors at risk—endangering the male she loved and his friend.

Sweat trickled down her spine. Her arms and legs burned, her muscles straining. They zigzagged through the maze of pathways and structures. The fighting lessened with every step they took away from the domicile, but the danger never went away.

Every turn, every darkened alley could hold a warrior—either an insurgent or a Humanoid Alliance warrior. Mira wheezed, her lungs expanding until almost bursting, each gulp of air clawing its way down her throat.

The roar of an engine increased in volume. A ship zipped by them, the machine-made wind parting her hair. A projectile arced, accelerating as it trailed it. The ship exploded, the fireball lighting the shadows.

Distracted, Mira tripped over a chunk of stone and stumbled. Vapor caught her by the elbow, righted her once more. “Hold it together, female.” He flattened one of his gun-filled palms against the small of her back and pushed her forward.

She had to hold it together. For him. For his friend. Her mouth dried. She didn’t have enough saliva to swallow with. Her hamstrings, calves, shit, her entire body ached. She concentrated on putting one foot ahead of the other, forcing herself to move.

Her pace slowed and slowed until she was shuffling, her feet feeling like they were encased in rock. “Can’t,” she huffed. She stopped, bent over, grasped her thighs, gasping for air, having nothing left. “Go on. Without me.”

“Never.” Vapor scooped her up, pressing her face into his body armor-clad chest, his guns remaining in his hands, an extension of her cyborg. “Hold on to me.”

She wrapped her quivering arms and legs around him. “I’m heavy. I’ll slow you down.”

“You weigh almost nothing, human.” He released her, twisted his torso to the right, shot an armed brown-and-green male, the insurgent lurking in an alcove.

“You can’t fight, run, and carry me, not if you want to survive.” She couldn’t bear the thought of him dead. “Leave me.”

“If I leave you, that’s all I’ll be doing—surviving.” Vapor ran at speeds beyond her capability. He didn’t even breathe heavily. “Without you, without your sweet lies, your constant rebellion, your processor-melting smile, your softness, I’ll spend my lifespan merely existing. I’ll kill and not live, fight and not care about the results. Is that the future you want for me?”

“I want you to be happy,” Mira mumbled, touched by his words.

“I want happiness for myself also, would do anything to obtain it.” He turned quickly to the left. She slipped, gripped him tighter. “I’m not selfless like you are, female. Another male could give you offspring, acceptance in human society, all of the things you desire. But I want you for myself and I’m taking you.”

He wanted her. Heat spread across her chest. Vapor moved with her, shot warriors lurking in structures, ran.

She clung to him, her male, her protector. “I don’t need offspring, acceptance in human society, or anything else.”

He snorted. “That’s a lie.”

It wasn’t a lie. She’d spoken the truth. “I might desire them but I don’t need them,” Mira explained. “All I need is you.” She pressed her lips to his neck, tasting the salt and minerals on his skin. “I love you, Vapor.”

He skidded to a stop, the abrupt cessation of movement jostling her body. “Repeat that.” Vapor looked down at her, his eyes dark, his gaze intense.

“You heard correctly, cyborg, but I will repeat it.” She curved her palm over his cheek. “I love you. My heart is yours.”

“I want more than your heart.” He pressed his face against her hand. “I want all of you.”

“You have it. I—”

Vapor ducked, covering her body with his. A projectile whizzed by, slammed into the structure in front of them. “We’ll talk about this later.” He sprinted forward.

They were in the middle of a battlefield. Mira swallowed her words, not wishing to distract him. This wasn’t the time or the place for confessions.

She was glad he knew. If anything happened…

She swallowed hard. Nothing would happen to him. He was a cyborg, the best warrior her father had ever created.

Would her sole remaining parent miss her? Would the famed Designer notice she was gone? He’d no longer have anyone interrupting his work. He could devote himself fully to his legacy, to designing fighting machines the Humanoid Alliance could use to suppress other beings.

They wouldn’t use her cyborg that way. She rested her cheek against Vapor’s body armor. Soon, he’d be free, able to follow his own commands.

They stopped outside the District’s main docking bay. It remained standing, whole, a rarity in the war torn settlement.

Vapor knelt with Mira behind an empty fuel container. Strive flattened his form against a structure to their right.

Heavily armed guards were stationed outside the docking bay. They were organized into two groups. One group encircled the structure itself. Judging by their faces, bearing, and weapons, they were seasoned senior staff. A larger group, consisting of fresh-faced fidgety young guards, formed a human wall around the perimeter.

Bodies were scattered before this second barrier. The insurgents must have tried to take the docking bay and failed.

“Are we shooting our way through?” she whispered.

“A security breach like that would prompt all of the ships to immediately depart,” Vapor murmured against her ear. “We’d be stranded on the planet.” His lips teased her skin, sending tremors of delight down her spine.

“Can we sneak inside?”

He shook his head. “Every entrance is secured.”

“If you and Strive were alone, you could do it.” They were cyborgs, fast, strong, able to breach any structure.

“I’m not leaving you.”

It made no sense to argue with him. She wouldn’t leave him either.

She was the reason they were trapped outside the docking bay. Mira tilted her head. She had caused this problem. She’d solve it. “Then we do what I do best.”

“Which is?” Vapor lifted his eyebrows.

“We lie.” She stood.

Guards turned, aiming their guns at her. Vapor rumbled with unhappiness. Strive hissed, equally concerned.

“Holster your weapons,” Mira advised. “And let me do the talking.” She could do this. She walked forward, her head held high, her heart drumming against her chest, extra swagger in her stride.