Janet stepped over the side and came straight toward him. He looked beyond her to catch sight of Rylie but was blocked by the other sister.
“You didn’t join us. I would’ve liked to see you swim,” Janet smiled down at him, standing closer than he liked. Rylie looked at him but he lost her as she turned away and went down to the lower deck. “You have the abs for it.” Netto turned toward the dripping wet blonde who trailed her finger over his stomach.
Netto caught her hand. “Don’t.”
“Don’t?” She canted her head, exuding a vulnerability that he didn’t think she had. Zeph came over the side at that moment, loaded with the oyster-like rocks under his arm. Netto expected murder, but what he got was stone. “I was told you guys are different than most of your kind.” Janet leaned in and put her hand over the one that still held hers. “Count me curious.”
“Every Cyborg is different.”
“Are they?”
Netto nodded and dislodged his hand from between hers as he stood. “Like every human is different. Let's go see what you've collected.”
He stepped toward Zeph and Montihan, who both looked over a table now scattered with the sea-rocks. Several were cracked open to reveal the interior contents, while some were pushed aside with their stones already removed.
“They're all cloudy,” Zeph muttered, annoyed.
Netto fished through the muck and couldn't find a stone that was clear. At least not clear enough to use. But he did smell the faded, almost indecipherable scent of blood.
He left the group and followed Rylie down the stairs, regardless of the eyes of the trio boring through his back.
The subtle smell of blood became clearer and he followed the trail back inside the ship and into the small kitchenette space opposite of the quarters. Netto stopped as Rylie hunched over a waterspout, still in nothing but her wetsuit and shoes. She was small, too small, too slight for any Cyborg, especially for a Cyborg like himself.
He caught her hand and the cut she was washing. She jerked away from him but couldn't stray far.
“You're hurt.” Netto peered down at the small scrape. It was nothing, a chafe at most, but he hated that it marred her skin.
“It's only a scrape. Happens all the time,” she huffed and tugged her hand. He didn't let her go.
“It can get infected.” He lifted the tiny wound to his face, the beautiful smell of blood filling his systems, and licked it. Rylie struggled away from him but he held her tight, licking and sucking on the blood.
“What're you doing!?”
She went unheeded as her taste filled his mouth. It made him hungry. It made him ravenous.
It made him lose control.
Netto didn't hear her protests as he positioned her into the corner, the smell of her sweat and her heart beat flooding his other senses. Her tiny body, toned and lovely, caught up against his.
He understood why Zeph wanted to kill him.
He dropped her hand.
Netto stormed out of the corridor, needing to get as far away from Rylie as he could.
Because if he didn't, he would force his will on her and feast on her flesh.
