The Cyborg's Redemption: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Teraz Book 3) Page 2

  Pax gets out of the rover, slings his duffel bag over his should, slamming the door shut. “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t agree with it. So, I’ll keep bugging you about fighting with us because it’s the right to do, and you’ll eventually see that sometimes the honorable thing to do is to go against everything you believe because it’s wrong.”

  Gregor snorts. Yeah, good luck with that, buddy.

  Chapter Three

  Rosalind

  She trembled in her seat. In part because of the fear coursing through her veins and because she is sitting still. She’s never been good at that.

  Her arms and legs are strapped to the chair. It’s one of those from a dentist’s office. She’s lying flat on her back, staring up at the water-stained ceiling, listening to the Malvik as he sorts through the table of sharp and painful looking tools that is set-up directly across from her.

  Heart beating against her ribs, she curls her fingers into fists and closes her eyes, tightly.

  Isaac was right. She jinxed herself. She doesn’t know why she tries to be the brave one. That’s not her. She’d dart into a battle or rig up a bomb if Kayla asks her to, but waiting here to be tortured isn’t something she’s cut out for.

  It’s more than likely that the moment the creepy Malvik stands over her with the bright light above her glinting off his knife or whatever else he’s going to use on her she’ll sing like a freaking canary.

  Her team would be let down, but that wouldn’t compare to the shame that would wreck her soul afterward. But she won’t be able to keep her mouth shut as the Malvik peels the flesh from her body or rip her nails out. She swallows thickly as phantom pain tingles across her body. It’s going to be unpleasant, but she owns it them to hold out as long as she can.

  The Malvik taps her forehead with his cold finger. “What’s going on up here?” he asks, and his voice slithers out between his sharp teeth.

  Rosalind goes stiff. Damn it. She should have been paying more attention, and she would have heard him approach, but nope, she was too busy wallowing about her upcoming torture.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she snaps.

  “No, I don’t.” He laughs. “Why do you think I brought you here?”

  Her eyes latch onto his black ones, staring into them, she tries to get a reading on his emotions, but only a chill reaches her.

  Being an empath around humans is painful, but being one around a soulless Malvik is eerie. Not once in the years, she’s been with the eighth ward rebels has she ever got a clear or raw emotion from a Malvik. There’s nothing inside them but a heaviness that freezes her inside and out.

  She frowns. This one isn’t as cold, though.

  And that puzzles her.

  He grins at the blatant confusion on her face. “Don’t bother. You’re wasting your time trying to dig around inside me. There’s nothing there.”

  She gasps.

  “Ah, yes. We’ve been aware of you for years. It’s strange coming across an empath on Earth. Do you know what’s the most interesting thing about you, Rosalind Vega?”

  She shakes her head. She’s still too shocked from him revealing he knows her secret. Her best friend doesn’t even know. For the Malviks to be aware of what she is terrifying. They can use it against her or turn her into a weapon. She can drain a person’s emotions if she wanted, and these monsters probably know that truth, too.

  “What do you want?” She grinds her teeth together as anger builds in her.

  The Malvik blinks, then smiles widely. “Many things, Rosalind Vega, but I’ll take what I can today.” His foot slams down on the lever that controls her chair, and she rises until she is level with his midsection. He steps away, humming as he goes back over to the table.

  She barely gets a chance to think about what is going to happen next before he’s standing beside her again. This time with a wicked looking knife in hand. Closing her eyes, she takes a shuttering breath.

  “Are you going to cry?”

  She opens her eyes, turning to stare at him. Pausing when she sees the skin between his eyes, and where a human’s eyebrows would be, creased. “Umm, I guess?” She’s going to cry. That’s a no brainer, but he’ll figure that out in time. What worries her is his interest in whether she’s going to cry or not.

  “A human’s way of releasing sadness is a sight to see,” he murmurs as he slices her bicep.

  A startled cry leaves her lips, and she lifts her head to glance at where he cut her. Blood seeps from the three-inch line, dripping down to pool on the chair, wetting her shirt. Pulsing heat surrounds the wound as she tries to breathe through the stinging pain. She’d experienced worse, but she gets teary-eyed over a paper cut.

  The Malviks leaves her there to grab a vial from the table. He softly hums as he holds it to the flowing blood, and he holds it up to the light when it’s full.

  Nausea punches her in the gut at that sight. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “I’ve been very rude.” He puts a cap on it and slips it into his robe’s pocket. “My name is Seesil. And what I’ve taken from you holds many answers, Rosalind Vega.”

  She opens her mouth to dig deeper, but stops when he begins to undo her binds.

  “I would love to continue our time here, but I must go. I’m already late for a meeting because I decided to deal with you today.” He offers her a hand.

  She hesitates to take it, but she doesn’t want to inspire his wrath. She’s silently thanking God that he didn’t do anything worse to her today than hurt her arm. The stinging wound increases as she gets to her feet. She bites her tongue to stop the whimper that was about to come out of her.

  “Perhaps next time you will cry,” Seesil says, tilting his head as he studies her face.

  “What’s with the weird fascination?”

  “I’ve never seen a human weep before, but my brethren say it is beautiful.”

  Rosalind shudders. “Am I going back to the basement?”

  He shakes his head. “Those people down there are nothing but cockroaches. Terrible. You are upstairs from now on.” He takes hold of her forearm, pulling her behind him as they leave the room.

  She stumbles to keep up with him, but he still manages to yank her arm hard enough to cause her muscles to burn from the straining.

  Seesil leads her out of the back room, past the door that leads to the basement, through the kitchen, and into the hallway, then up a set of stairs. He takes a left down the hallway, stops in front of the first door on the left, and shoves her inside the bedroom.

  She crashes to her knees as the door slams shut behind her and the unmistakable click of a lock reaches her ears. Defeat settles in her bones, and she crawls over to the comfy looking four-poster bed in the center of the room. All she wants to do now is sleep. Hopefully, when she wakes up, this would have all been nothing but a horrific nightmare.

  Chapter Four

  Gregor

  He leans back in his chair, sighing as Pax continues to dig through the assortment of papers on Seesil’s desk.

  A guard dropped them off twenty minutes ago, muttering something about the Malvik beginning a new project. The door hadn’t even completely shut before Pax crept over to the desk and began snooping around.

  “What are you going to do if Seesil catches you?” Gregor asks.

  Pax pauses in the middle of his task to look up at him, smirking. “I’ll hear him before he’s even on the first step. I’m trying to find out information on the captive rebels.”

  He stares at him. “They right here in this house.”

  “Yeah, I know that, but the Malviks took all of the eighth ward and second ward rebels that were with them. There aren’t enough pulses in the basement to account for all of them.”

  Taking a second, he shuts out the whispering of the papers moving about, Pax’s wristband knocking against the wooden desk, and the leaky faucet two doors down as he zeroes in on the group of humans two floors below them.

  Two groups of
people are below, those with steady, strong heartbeats and those with erratic thumping. Gregor takes his time counting them and tightens his fists on the armchair as he finishes. Twenty-two. There should have been over thirty. What the fuck happened to the people who are missing?

  “They might be dead,” he says, thinking out loud.

  Pax doesn’t bother lifting his head when he answers. “I thought that, too, but why kill some and not all of them?”

  “They might not be important. The Malviks only need the high-ranking rebels because they’re the ones who know anything.”

  Pax sighs. “I considered that, but I hope we’re both wrong.”

  It’s unlikely. The Malviks anger easily, and the sneak attack could have caused a lot of problems for them if they hadn’t stopped it in time. They want to know about the rebellion, and if they have spread down here on Earth. They are aware that the once honorable and loyal Rodrick is involved, and so is Axe, but they don’t know anything beyond that. The most important thing to them would be to figure out how to prevent them from getting to the cyborgs here.

  That’s what the rebellion is working on right now. They want to recruit as many as they can, creating an army that would be in the perfect position to attack the Malviks. Also, if they take away their only form of protection, it is an obvious assumption that they will run away. It’s a smart plan, but they underestimate the cyborgs who stayed behind to guard the Malviks and do their bidding.

  Those men and women pledged their services to them regardless of the perils they may face in that position because they believe they owe their lives to their creators.

  Gregor’s one of them.

  It’s not going to be an easy task trying to convince them to go against their vows. Almost impossible, really.

  Pax jerks up and glances at the door before straightening up the papers on the desk. He rushes back over to his seat, plopping down a second before Seesil walks in.

  The Malvik pauses with his hand on the door, squinting at them. He must not find anything odd about their expressions. He turns away from them, shuts the door, then moves to sit behind his desk.

  “We doubt your honesty, Pax.”

  “I understand, but—”

  Seesil waves his hand in front of their faces. “There are no buts. You can spew all the nonsense you want to, but it won’t matter. Your father is a sympathizer. More importantly, he’s their leader. Do you think we’re fools?”

  Gregor fights back the urge to groan and tell his friend I told you so, but he was right. The Malviks are going to see straight through his ridiculous plan. They already believe he’s here for ulterior motives.

  Pax gets up, and moves to stand in front of the desk, staring down at Seesil. “The rebels hate us. We’re the enemy in their eyes just like you are, and even though I risked my life and career to help them escape The Gregory, they still showed their disgust for my kind. Regardless of what we do, we will never earn their respect or forgiveness. For years, sympathizers have put themselves in danger to save humans, but none of that matters because we’re partly responsible for taking away their freedom. I don’t want to fight for people who treat me like shit.”

  Seesil glances past him to Gregor. “What do you think of your friend’s words?”

  It’s subtle, but Gregor’s a cyborg so his eyes can pick up on the tiniest movements, and when Pax’s back stiffens, he notices it, and guilt stabs him. Pax is probably worrying what Gregor’s going to say in his defense.

  The truth, of course.

  “Words are meaningless. Actions are what shows a person’s true loyalties. Pax has done that. He left behind his father and friends, coming here to swear his fealty to the Malviks as they defeat the rebels and the upcoming rebellion,” Gregor says.

  “A very good point, but until I’m certain of that, Pax will be doing field work.” Seesil leans over, pulling out one of the desk’s bottom drawers. When he sits up, it’s with a thick yellow folder. He hands it to Pax.

  Pax takes it, staring down at it with a frown. “What about Gregor?”

  Seesil leers. “We know where his loyalties lie. Now, if you excuse us, there’s something I wish to discuss with him in private.”

  Pax hesitates. Glancing at Gregor, he lifts his eyebrows in question.

  Gregor nods slightly.

  Seesil hums as he watches the small exchange between them. The leering grin is still on his face and chills Gregor’s insides. Nothing good can come from a Malvik’s enjoyment.

  Neither of them says anything until the steady thumps of Pax’s military boots are far away, striding down the stairs, then outside.

  The Malvik pushes up from his seat, moving over to the now empty armchair beside him. “You have come a long way, cyborg. A weakling with a conscience to the soulless warrior in front of me.”

  Gregor grips the armrests harder. He should feel happy with Seesil’s statement, but it causes his gut to clench. He did the right thing by telling the Malviks about the cyberattack. Shame still unwinds itself inside of him, though.

  He kept his vows, but in the end, he betrayed his crew and friends. There’s no nice way to put that without feeling the sting of regret. It doesn’t matter. He did the right thing.

  “There’s no doubt whose side you’re on,” Seesil says.

  “I gave my word. What else was I supposed to do?” He rakes a hand down his face, tired of hearing praises.

  “You could have broken it as the others did.” Seesil crosses his legs. “Are you wondering what your special assignment is?”

  Whatever it is, it’s meant to test him further. He might have warned them about the attack, but he also helped break them rebels out of The Gregory.

  From the moment Dawn stepped foot on The Pursuer, he dealt with an internal battle over what to do. It is still going on, but he’s managed to push it deep down, burying it under all the other hideous emotions that have taken life inside of him since he left Teraz.

  “Does it involve the rebels?” he asks.

  “One, in particular.”

  Chapter Five

  Rosalind

  The scraping of a key in the lock wakes her up. She jolts forward in bed, rushing to her feet. She scrubs the sleep from her eyes quickly. Her body feels heavy and sluggish, which means she couldn’t have been asleep long.

  She expected them to leave her alone for the rest of the day to give her mind enough time to wonder about all the terrible scenarios that might happen to her in the immediate future.

  What if it’s not Seesil? It could be any one of those guards she saw loitering downstairs as Seesil marched her up here. There’s no telling what they might do to her.

  Seesil’s interested in her empath abilities, and he can’t study them if she’s dead. There’s still torture though.

  She braces herself as the doorknob turns.

  Seesil grins at her and steps aside to let a cyborg in before closing the door.

  That’s what he clearly is. There’s an emotionless gleam over his eyes, and if that didn’t give it away, then his towering height and rippling muscles do. His orange, red hair is buzz close to his skull, and he has three days’ worth of stubble on his face. His piercing green eyes stab her, and she takes a step, loses her balance, tumbling onto the bed.

  He cocks an eyebrow at her clumsiness.

  Screw him.

  Seesil grips the man’s shoulder. “Rosalind, I’d like to introduce you to Gregor. He’s going to be your personal guard.”

  She frowns. “Why the heck do I need one of those?”

  “Because I said so, that’s why.” Seesil shoves Gregor forward. It is a feeble attempt. Malviks are weak, and the solid cyborg stands his ground. Sighing, Seesil taps him on the chest, then jabs his finger toward her.

  Gregor rolls his eyes but closes the space between them until he’s standing beside her. His irritation stings her, putting her on edge.

  After everything that’s happened so far today, she had just started to unwind, but all that ease
is knocked out of her the moment he walked into the room. She shuffles away from him, wanting to put some distance between them.

  He doesn’t allow it, and grabs her arm, holding her in place.

  “Hey!” She tries to yank her arm out of his steel-like grip. “Let me go, jerk.”

  He stares down at her with a bored expression. “Be quiet.”

  Her mouth falls open.

  Seesil laughs. “I’m going to enjoy this immensely.”

  “Why does she need a personal guard?” Gregor asks.

  She expects the Malviks to give him the same bossy answer he gave her, but he doesn’t. “She has something that’s important to my kind. I want to make sure nothing happens to her until I understand why she has it in the first place.”

  Hmm. Seesil probably won’t be happy with the simple explanation of ‘I was born with it.’ So, she’s going to have to figure out why the heck he’s so darn obsessed with an empath.

  “Seven cyborgs are here. Why the fuck does she need me? Are they a risk to her?”

  Seesil shakes his head. “The danger isn’t in this room. It’s out there. Her team will come for her eventually. I want to make sure they can’t steal her from me. That’s why you’re here.”

  She whips her head back and forth, looking at the two of them. By the clenching muscles of Gregor’s jaw, she can tell he wants to dig in and find out what Seesil wants from her, but he doesn’t say anything.

  Seesil moves his hand behind his back. “Do I need to answer any questions for you, Rosalind?”

  She bites her lip, then plants her hand on her hips and asks, “You can sick a whole herd of cyborgs on the rebels, but it won’t matter. They will find a way to save us.”

  “Perhaps you are correct, but we’ve already executed one of your team members. How many more will go before they fly in and save the day? One? Ten? You may be the only one left when that time comes.”