Chapter 16
Mori adjusted her red maintenance cap as she followed Cadell through the underbelly of The Colony. Noise and air flew around, like a wind tunnel as they walked, a constant hum of all the systems that ran The Colony, and kept all the power distributed, the underneath was a series of caves and tunnels that spread out like a spider’s web.
She’d never imagined she’d be walking through the rock mixed with metal—nature and technology slammed together in a constant war of dominance. One moment she’d be next to rock. Then metal. Then rock again, like nature was trying to take back its turf, but the metal wasn’t giving any ground.
“A battle,” she muttered to herself as she caressed a wall. An angel of war, that’s what he’d called her.
Would she always see everything as a battle?
“What was that?” Cadell asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing important.”
He raised his eyebrow, but they headed on. The tension was strong, and she worried, but likely not for the same reason as he did. He’d taken her below The Colony, into the deepest parts of LC-426, dressing them both as maintenance workers with red uniforms.
It had given her a moment of joy to be in something that wasn’t white, black or gray. But only a moment.
They seemed to be walking for miles underneath the ground. A flyer would have been easier, but these tunnels were too low and narrow for even those small, two-person crafts.
She broke the silence between them after a bit longer. “You’re maintenance,” she said as they entered a slightly quieter area of the tunnel.
“I’m a farmer,” Cadell said. From his posture, he wasn’t explaining anything else.
She gritted her teeth.
They were in this together. The least he could do is be a little forthcoming with her.
She forced herself to take in the mechanical underneath of the Colony. Pipes leading through rock and metal and all sorts of conduits and bulkheads, the ceiling so uneven that some spots were a dozen feet above her. While there seemed to be a pattern, she couldn’t determine a purpose for what she was looking at.
The only purpose seemed to be that no one else was down here.
Mechanical noises got louder and drowned out any more chance to speak. There would be moments of, well, less noise, but not enough for any meaningful conversation.
Usually enough for one question and one answer.
She was trying to figure out if Cadell, aka The Butcher, wanted to help her, or was he just going to take her down and kill her.
Away from everyone where it would be easier to hide the body.
It was what she would do if she were conducting an assassination.
Yet here she was, following him blindly. At least she had her sticks back—she would be able to defend herself. If he were mortal, just a human, she’d have no worries, it would be easy to take him.
If he were all human, anyway.
Between his reputation and his cybernetic parts, she didn’t know if she was strong enough to take him out if needed.
She wasn’t sure she would. She’d already failed once.
Part of her clung to the hope that Cadell was going to assist her, to help stop the attack.
Rather than take her down here to kill her.
“What are we doing down here?” she asked, though she didn’t think he could hear her over the rushing of water, coupled with the mechanical noises from above.
He glanced back at her. “Up ahead,” he said, gesturing forward.
She nodded, unsure what to think because it wasn’t quite an answer. Frustration started to boil inside her. The whole situation was taking its toll, and part of her wanted to punch something.
Even Cadell.
Especially Cadell.
Right in those nicely shaped shoulders.
They hadn’t traveled much farther when they came to a door. Or it looked like a door, anyway. He palmed the panel, a small green light appeared, and the door hissed open.
He stepped inside and gestured for her to join him.
As soon as she stepped through, the door closed with a loud thud. And most of the external noise faded away as the room pressurized.
Mori realized they were in another apartment. A food prep unit was on the wall, coupled with a small table and chairs. A sofa in the opposite corner and a bed rounded out the furniture. She saw a waste disposal room on the far side.
But underneath it all was an overlay of the noise and chaos outside. Much more tolerable in here, but still it remained a white noise in the background.
Or maybe that was her ears still trying to stabilize.
“What is this place?”
“Safe house,” Luke said.
She raised her eyebrow. “Cannot be too safe. You palmed in here,” she said, gesturing to his hand.
He shrugged. “Might not be my palm,” he said, holding up his right hand, minus its glove.
There, she could make out four chips, anchored into the fake flesh in the cybernetic hand. Four different identities to use as he needed.
No wonder he wore gloves all the time.
She smiled, impressed with his trick. “Very imaginative.”
“I don’t like being tagged.”
She wasn’t crazy about it either. However, she had very little recourse, at least for the next couple of years.
Tagging could be tracked.
“How do you know Dumol isn’t on her way down here now?”
“I’m sure she is. But she won’t find us.”
“You seem confident.”
He smiled. “I make a point of having a safe room wherever I land.”
“Too many times found?”
“Something like that.” He crossed to the food prep, pulled out two water rations, and offered her one.
She declined, her stomach still amped up. He shrugged and tossed it back in the unit.
Instead, she took off her hat and started to pace, tossing it on the nearby table.
“We need to talk,” she said. She needed to know what he knew so that she could determine the best course of action.
Battle to the death, or partnership, she wasn’t sure which.
He nodded. “I agree.”
She stopped and crossed her arms, her gaze running over him. She noticed his posture and his demeanor. He was as on edge as she was.
And that edge made him look ready to fight.
Or other things...
She brought herself back to the moment. “Why are you doing this, Cadell?”
“I don’t know.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Truly, why are you bothering with me,” she repeated. There wasn’t much reason for it, after all, he was a famed warrior. Shouldn’t he have just attempted to kill her already?
“You want to let Dumol kill you?”
“Why don’t you just kill me?” She needed to know what he knew, or what he’d figured out. Anger poured out of her, and he was who she was taking it out on.
He replied with the same answer. “I don’t know! It just feels like the right thing to do.”
She hissed. “Like you have a clue what that means.”
“I have morals!”
“Did they just shut down during the war, Butcher?” she snapped. This made her snort. “All the lives you took during Nova Wars were the right things to do then, too?”
“I was following orders.”
“And now?”
“I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders anymore.” He took a step toward her.
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you sure about that? What do you call this?”
“I’m saving your life.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stand the idea of Dumol hurting you, all right?” He sighed, ran his hand over his face. “And I have no fucking idea why this bothers me so much.” He met her gaze. “Tell me why this bothers me. Why, in the last two hours, I have felt more emotion for another being—for you—than I’ve had in the last four years. For anybody. Myself included.”
She opened her mouth to speak.
He continued, not giving her time to respond. “I haven’t cared about anyone or anything since the war was over. I didn’t want to.”
“And why do you now?”
“You tell me. Why do we see each other’s thoughts when we touch?”
“I am not certain.” True enough.
He raised his eyebrow. “You know. You’re Novian. You have to. Isn’t this shit part of your species deal? Messing with human brains?”
“Not all Novians manipulate humans.”
“So why do we all have to wear chips behind our ears to make sure you Novians don’t convince us all to take a flying leap off the housing balconies?” He took a few steps toward her.
“Why do Novians have to be put under your microscopes to study?” She took a step into him.
He came closer to her. “Why do humans have to back down to everything Novians want? And give you everything?”
“Novians get everything? How in the world do you think that?” Mori countered. “You’ve tried to wipe us out because we’re not like you!”
They had gotten mere inches apart.
She could feel his body heat. Smell his growing desire. And it fueled hers.
He had to be able to feel hers.
“Because Novians cannot—"
She didn’t let him finish the thought. Frankly, she didn’t care what his stupid excuse was. It was meaningless.
She needed to kiss him. She put her hand on his neck—fiery emotions radiated off him as soon as they touched, and she took them in, and whether she meant to or not, fed him her desires.
And they were plenty. Like both of them had a plethora of sensations and emotions each one had been ignoring or repressing for years. Him, since the war.
Her, since just about the same time.
It was a long time not to feel anything real.
Their lips locked, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.
They kissed hard. Lips, tongues, groans, grunts, all the things that made a good kiss even better. Hips ground against hips, whether she was doing it or he was, she didn’t know.
Didn’t care. She pawed at him, ripping at his uniform if only to feel his skin underneath his coverings.
Their kisses became more intense. He bit at her neck, making her moan as he pulled open her ill-fitting shirt.
She didn’t mind. Let him rip it off her.
He drove her toward the bed in the corner as they kissed. She hit the mattress with a bit of a bounce and he was on top of her. His hips ground into hers, and she scooted herself deeper on the bed and pulled him with her.
Kissing commenced.
And she scraped her nails across his shoulder, ripping at his shirt. He paused long enough to yank his off, and while he pulled away, she did too.
She admired those curves and lines that she’d seen before, and up close they were much more impressive. The tiny flickers of interest she occasionally had when she’d glanced at him before boiled over, and her desire spiked. She couldn’t stop touching him, and caressing his bare skin as they kissed.
He pressed his lips on her neck as he ravaged her skin. Each touch felt so hot, like he was marking her, branding her as his. It felt amazing.
Heady.
Something she desperately craved but had no idea what it was until this moment. This was alive. This was human. This was Novian.
This was more than just existing.
Something she’d never realized she had been missing.
Whatever this was between them, it was fiery and explosive, and it didn’t make any sense. And she needed it more than she needed air.
He collapsed on top of her, sucking and biting and kissing her flesh. His fingertip caressed one of her scars on her shoulder.
“You’re scarred.”
“Battle wounds.” She ran her hand along his chest. “So are you.”
“War will do that.”
“Yes, it will.” They kissed, more, and he pinched her breasts, his kisses moving over her chest until he mauled her breasts, making her scream in ecstasy.
Mori had experienced lovers before—many over the centuries. And many talented ones. Even some not as talented. But none felt like this.
It was as though Cadell knew her code, like he had it hard-wired into his system, and was programmed with all the necessary steps to make her quiver beneath him.
Make her want him so very much. And he succeeded.
She wanted him in all the ways a female could want a male. She ground her hips into his, making him moan as he touched her. His hands slid lower down her body, pressing and touching and caressing all the places.
He slid off her pants and continued his exploration. Kissing the scars and marks from battles long ago fought. He kissed her hips, and guided her to her stomach so that he could caress her back. He rained kisses over her spine. His hands brushed over her shoulders and hips.
“This is where your wings rest.”
She didn’t wince at the touch—long before she’d stepped into The Colony, she’d understood that they would never fly again.
But his caress of the puckered scars stirred up more feelings. Intimate ones, deeper than this physical attraction they both experienced.
“Yes.”
He stroked her skin, up and down. “Do you miss it?”
“I miss never falling,” she said.
“I would like to never fall.”
His words touched her in a strong way. So strong, she didn’t know what to do with the emotions they stirred. So much more powerful than she had ever imagined. This made no sense to her. None of this with him did. She didn’t understand why this was happening this way. What made this so much more than just physical release?
This connection between them, how they were igniting feelings neither of them understood, burned so intensely, she had never felt it before.
She doubted she’d ever understand it again either.
It was a shining light in a horrible last few days, and she needed it. If only to recharge her soul so she could do what needed to be done.
Though no matter how she tried to fool herself into this being less than it was, her heart knew better.
Her fate knew this a long time ago.
She needed to accept it for herself. Because she was falling.
Hard.
For the Butcher of Nova Wars.
Mori twisted so she faced him, smiling at him as he leaned over her. “Falling isn’t all bad,” she said, and with a twist, had him flopped down on the bed with her on top.
He reached up and caressed her cheek with his left hand.
A jolt slammed her, another vision.
But this one, she’d seen before.
Her looking down at him. Leaning over, smiling. What she’d looked like, through his eyes. It was a powerful image; it painted her in the most beautiful way.
His emotions thundered through her. Hers hammered back. He ran his hand over her side. She pressed her hips into his.
Visions coming true...
She was meant to be here. And that revelation hit her hard.
That she was in the place she was destined to be...
She shoved his pants down, for she needed to feel his naked body against hers. All of him against all of her.
He needed it too—she could feel it.
He lifted his hips, and they both removed any remaining clothing. She straddled his hips and savored the intimate contact. He rocked into her, moaning over each move she made as well.
She reached between them and guided him in. As she lowered herself upon him, he moaned and groaned until their flesh was joined.
She moved her hips.
He moved his. She controlled the tempo, slow and fast and slow and fast, moving in all the ways she craved. He worked with her, arched his back to press deeper into her. Whatever she needed him to do, he instinctively knew and did.
Or perhaps it was the connection between them.
It was hard to tell where her thoughts ended and he began; their minds had wrapped so fast around one another.
The sensations between them were so powerful, Mori cried out more than once. He followed her cries with his own, even rolling her over so he was on top for the last of it.
When his hips slammed into hers, she thought the world was going to split apart and swallow them, the feeling so powerful.
Cadell crested and collapsed on her, as spent as she was. Sweat glistened on his brow, and she imagined she had the same sweat on her face, their skin was slick against each other.
For a few moments, neither of them moved, and they just lay there embracing one another, panting.
“Um...” he whispered.
“I know,” she said.
Their gazes met, but neither of them had to say anything—their thoughts were combined, they were still connected.
She could feel everything he felt.
Cadell rolled off and pulled her into his arms.
She threw an arm over his chest, laying her head in the crook of his shoulder and he stroked her hair.
“I’ve never felt this before,” Cadell said.
“Me either,” Mori replied.
Felt it, no, but she’d seen it before.
In the vision she’d had that had saved his life.