Defying Death (22 page)

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Tifara moved
beside Death.

“Get behind me, you foolish female,” her cyborg
barked. “They’re cyborgs. You’re human.”

“I realize that.” She rolled her eyes. “I see their
model numbers.
They
don’t seem concerned about putting their
cyborg brethren in peril.”

The brown-eyed warrior glared at his brethren. “I
told you we should have covered our model numbers.”

“She’s our target, ass.” The other cyborg didn’t
appear concerned. “It doesn’t matter if she knows.”

“She’s not any warrior’s target.” Death braced his
booted feet apart. “She’s my female and you
will
treat her
with respect.”

Fuck, he was dominant. Tifara gazed at him,
thrillingly aroused.

“We meant no disrespect, warrior.” The brown-eyed
cyborg shook his head. “And we don’t want to battle you. Allow us
to complete our mission. Give up the female temporarily and then
petition the council to get her back.”

“I’m not a possession,” she yelled, waving her
daggers. “You can’t pass me around like an inanimate object.”

“We realize you’re not a possession.” The blue-eyed
cyborg’s voice was strained. “Why do females keep telling us that?”
He glanced at his brethren.

The male shrugged. “I can’t process why.”

“Tifara, get behind me.” Death shifted his weight
from one foot to the other, his gaze fixed on his opponents. “Allow
me to take care of this.”

“Are you going to
take care
of us, J-model?”
The blue-eyed cyborg raised his eyebrows. “Is your vision system
faulty? There are two of us and one of you.”

“There are two of us.” Tifara gripped her daggers
tighter. “I’m fighting the dumb one.”

The two cyborgs looked at each other.

“She means you, ass,” the blue-eyed male
declared.

“I meant you,” she clarified.

The brown-eyed male smiled.

“There will be no fighting for you, female.” Death
sheathed his daggers, wrapped his big arms around her waist, took
three long strides away from the fighting zone, and set her down on
the sand. “You’re a fragile human. They’re cyborgs. They’ll kill
you before you realize they’re attacking.”

“We would never intentionally damage a precious
human female, J-Model.” The brown-eyed male appeared insulted by
that implication.

Cyborgs couldn’t lie. A plan formed in Tifara’s
mind. “You might not.” Her gaze slid to the blue-eyed male. “But he
would.”

“What?” The warrior jerked his head back. “I would
die before I damaged a female.”

Tifara met Death’s gaze. A small smile curled her
lips.

“I know what you’re processing, my clever female.”
His eyes gleamed with respect. “I won’t allow it. This is my
battle.”

“It’s his battle to lose.” The brown-eyed cyborg
calmly spun his daggers. “Stand back, little human. We won’t
humiliate your male too much.”

“Not
too
much.” The blue-eyed cyborg laughed,
bumping shoulders with his brethren. “The battle will end when he
begs for mercy.”

Tifara’s stomach twisted. It would be a battle to
the death. Her proud warrior would never beg any being for
anything.

“Will you still respect him when he’s on his knees,
female?”

“Do
not
talk to her,” Death bellowed, rushing
forward at full cyborg speed. Tifara struggled to track his
movements. Her male was armed and very angry.

It was fight time. She followed as quickly as she
could.

The blue-eyed male flipped Death over. Death’s
daggers raked along his opponent’s arms, shredding the armor and
flaking the metal off the blades. He tossed them to the side and
grasped a fresh pair.

The brown-eyed male lunged at him. Death rolled,
taking the warrior with him. Deep gashes appeared in her male’s
chest armor.

She finally arrived at the original location, only
to find them battling across the flat expanse of sand. Tifara
turned and raced toward them, her muscles screaming a protest, her
lungs aching.

Death kicked the brown-eyed cyborg in the stomach,
driving him backward. The cyborg skidded along the sand. The
blue-eyed cyborg raced forward. Daggers slashed through the air.
Death blocked the attacks. Each blow on his arms chipped away at
his armor. One landed on his hand, slicing through the skin to his
metal frame. Blood squirted.

Tifara was a medic. She thought herself immune to
queasiness but the sight of her male’s blood made her stomach heave
and her breath quicken.

The brown-eyed cyborg joined the assault. Arms
blurred. They moved farther and farther from her.

She suspected that was intentional. Her cyborg was
protecting her, even as he fought for his life. The armor fell off
his right arm. He continued to block with it. Daggers sliced away
chunks of skin and flesh, exposing more of his frame.

The pain must have been excruciating yet he didn’t
make a sound, his lips pressed in a grim white line. He lowered and
spun, his right leg extended. The blue-eyed cyborg fell. The other
cyborg jumped and kicked.

Death flew through the air, landed with an oomph
against a wall of rock, his body slamming against it with a force
that would have broken a human. Her male shook it off and leapt to
his feet.

The two cyborgs raced toward him, their dagger
blades crimson, their attack synchronized. Death faced four daggers
with only two hands to defend himself. He ducked and dodged. They
nicked his face, neck, shredded his chest armor.

Her cyborg was trapped between his opponents and the
rock. He couldn’t escape them but he also couldn’t escape her.

Tifara howled with outrage and pelted toward the
blue-eyed cyborg. She propelled herself into the air as high as her
lush body allowed, and landed on his back. “Leave him alone.” She
clung to his shoulders.

The cyborg grunted. He shrugged, trying to dislodge
her.

“Tifara, get off him,” Death roared.

Tifara ignored his order. Blood streamed down
Death’s beautiful face. She couldn’t allow him to be hurt, to be
killed.

The dagger in her right hand shook. She’d spent her
lifespan healing beings, had never intentionally hurt someone.

Death’s chest armor fell off, exposing his skin, his
stomach, his heart.

She couldn’t watch him die. She wouldn’t survive
that. Tifara lifted the dagger and plunged it into the blue-eyed
cyborg’s neck.

“Fraggin’ hole,” the warrior yelled.

“Sorry,” she apologized, extracting the blade from
his flesh. Blood arced in the air, spraying both of them. “You made
me do this.”

He didn’t back away from Death.

She stabbed him again.

The cyborg howled with pain.

“Sorry,” Tifara whispered.

“Tifara, get away from him.” Death’s voice was edged
with panic. “Please. You’ve done enough.”

She hadn’t done enough. Her male’s chest was
crisscrossed with deep wounds. Blood soaked the sand around him.
He’d die and she couldn’t live without him.

“I won’t get away from him, not until you’re safe.”
She drove the dagger into the blue-eyed cyborg’s neck a third time.
“I love you, Death. I won’t stand by and watch them kill you.”

“I’ll surrender, my female.” His eyes were wild as
he defended himself. “I’ll allow them to take you, to—”

“Frag no,” a familiar voice boomed behind them.
“You’re not surrendering.”

She looked over her shoulder. Menace rushed forward,
his daggers drawn. The brown-eyed cyborg turned.

It was two J model cyborgs against two K model
cyborgs but her cyborg was injured. Tifara continued to stab the
blue-eyed warrior, apologizing after every blow.

A high pitched battle cry filled the air. Ada-971
jumped onto the other cyborg’s back. The clone female didn’t
hesitate, plunging both of her daggers into his neck.

The brown-eyed cyborg howled.

“Ada-971.” It was Menace’s turn to bellow.

“Can’t hurt her.” Tifara panted. “Made a vow.”

The blue-eyed cyborg cursed.

Bound by his vow, the warrior was at a severe
disadvantage. He couldn’t turn to avoid strikes or he risked
exposing her to harm. He couldn’t roll or duck. He was as trapped
as Death was.

Her male sliced the cyborg’s thighs, inflicting
wounds deep enough to pierce his armor. The cyborg staggered. Death
slashed both of his cheeks.

The bastard wouldn’t go down.

Tifara jabbed his neck. His armor was slick with
blood. The scent hung in the air.

“I have this, female.” Death’s voice was gruff.
“Move away from him.”

“We have this,” she corrected. “And I won’t move
away until he surrenders. You love me. I love you. We’re doing this
together.”

“This isn’t a fair battle,” the blue-eyed cyborg
grumbled.

“And two against one is a fair battle?” She stabbed
him again for that idiocy.

“Ass,” the cyborg bellowed.

“We’ve been outmaneuvered, Thrasher,” the brown-eyed
cyborg responded. “If we continue, someone will die.”

“That someone won’t be my female.” Death dragged his
blades across Thrasher’s chest, peeling the blue-eyed cyborg’s
armor away to emphasize his point.

“It won’t be my female either,” Menace declared.

Tifara couldn’t see what Menace did but his actions
must have caused pain. The brown-eyed cyborg howled.

“Surrender, ass, before they damage you further,”
Thrasher advised, falling to his knees on the sand, the impact
jolting Tifara against his back.

“My name is Ace.” The brown-eyed cyborg sounded
weary. “I surrender but only to spare your females possible
damage.”

“It will spare
you
possible damage. I’m not
going anywhere with you.” Tifara dismounted. Her legs wobbled.

Death hastened to her side, hooking his arm around
her. He was crimson from his hair to his big boots. Too much of his
frame shone through his tattered skin, the sun reflecting off the
metal.

“I’m staying with my cyborg.” She gazed up at what
was left of his handsome face. “The cyborg I love.” She’d said the
words once. Saying them again wouldn’t make a difference.

Yet they did. A hint of a smile ghosted across
Death’s lips.

“I’m staying with my cyborg also,” Ada-971
announced. “My sister ascended during the darkness. We returned her
empty shell to the ground this sunrise. Lifespans are too short to
worry about what is or isn’t forbidden.”

“I don’t know who the frag you are,” Thrasher, the
blue-eyed cyborg, mumbled. “Our mission was to retrieve the medic.
That’s it.”

“You won’t be retrieving this medic.” Tifara
examined Death’s wounds. They had started to heal. “Do you have
pain inhibitors aboard your ship?”

“Not enough.” Thrasher rubbed his bloody neck.

She’d caused his pain and she felt guilt, but only a
tinge of the emotion. Death was alive because of the wounds she’d
inflicted. They remained together because of her violent
actions.

She was more than a medic. She was a warrior female
and she’d protected her male this planet rotation.

“I’m retrieving them,” she announced.

“No, you’re not.” Death scooped her into his arms.
“You smell like him.” He dipped his head toward Thrasher. “It’s
messing with my processors. I have to clean you.”

She patted his chest armor. “You can clean me after
I inject you with pain inhibitors.”

Her cyborg met her gaze. “Either I clean you or I
kill him. It’s your choice, female.”

He was a stubborn male and, judging by his
expression, he was deadly serious. Tifara sighed. “Clean me
quickly.”

Healing others would have to wait.

Tifara was
covered with blood, her flight suit was torn and her hair defied
gravity, yet she was the most beautiful being Death had ever seen.
He sat on a boulder, setting her on his lap, while Ace and Thrasher
ran to retrieve the cleaning cloths.

The two warriors bumped against each other. Their
touches weren’t accidental. Death didn’t understand their need for
physical connection, they were two males, but he also didn’t
understand what had occurred this planet rotation.

His female, a being dedicated to repairing the
damaged, had attacked a warrior. She’d inflicted pain upon another
with her tiny hands. He threaded his fingers between hers. She’d
taken that extreme action, an action she found repugnant, to save
his life.

Because she loved him.

When he’d bred with her, he’d thought he’d known the
pinnacle of happiness, a bliss that could never be rivaled. But
then, in battle, she’d said those three words to him and she’d
proven him wrong yet again. His heart had pounded against his metal
frame. His circuits had surged with energy. His processes had
nearly shut down.

This wonderful, clever, caring human female loved
him. Him. A grim-as-fuck cyborg. A male created to kill. She’d
risked her precious lifespan, put her fragile human body in peril,
to protect him.

“You’ll never do that again.” His voice was gruff
with emotion. “When I tell you a battle is mine, you’ll allow me to
fight it. Alone.”

He couldn’t lose her. It would destroy him.

“No.” She lifted her chin.

“No?”

“You’re no longer alone, Death.” She lifted their
linked hands and kissed the torn skin around his knuckles. “Your
battles aren’t yours. They’re ours.”

“And by ours, she means yours, hers, mine, my
female’s,” Menace called from the boulder he’d claimed. Ada-971 was
on his lap. “Mayhem’s also, if he ever frees himself.” His lips
quirked upward. “He’ll be unhappy he missed this battle.”

“There will be another one.”

Ace and Thrasher wouldn’t be the last warriors the
cyborg council sent after them. And the next warriors might not vow
to safeguard the females.

Death drew Tifara closer to him.

The K models returned. “Cleaning cloths.” Thrasher
tossed him one. “And pain inhibitors.” He held up the injector
guns.