Not one of his androids remained, though. That part of his kingdom had been stolen away.
Gunner stretched out the sleeves of his jacket and walked off his ship.
The landing zone and docking bay of the giant Peace Keeper battlemass filled his view, as did the hundreds of men and robots working the deck. Battle flyers and diplomatic ships lay on either side of him; they went on for miles in both directions. In a way, it reminded him of Ghost City, but much, much larger. The battlemasses weren’t warships, they were gigantic movable fortresses for the Earthian military fleet.
No one stopped him when he entered the main vessel. People watched but kept their distance. It was the first time he had emerged in days.
He was after one thing, and one thing only. Elodie. She’d been calling for him, wanting him, and they had tried to keep him away. He’d let it happen. Distance and time can change a person... But it hadn’t changed either of them. His little talk with Stryker had only strengthened his resolve. He knew what he wanted, and he had never been one for self-deprivation.
Gunner followed his nose to the holding units. They weren’t hard to find. He knew the smell of captivity well.
The alluring perfume she seemed to exude seeded like a welcoming mint through the endless passageways. Fresh and new and invigorating. The metal plates in his body vibrated with anticipation. His heart steadily increased with each step. He would always be able to find her, always be able to smell her.
His footsteps and stride lengthened. Speed bit at his heels, and the closer he got, the quicker his jackal became.
Mate.
He could sense her now, mere yards away from him. There was nothing that could stand in his way, not even the metal walls and the barriers.
A man in a uniform stood before the last door that led to her. Gunner outstretched his fingers then bunched them into restraining fists at his side.
“Elodie,” he said breathlessly.
The guard eyed him warily but nodded. “She’s being held within.”
“Currently.” Gunner didn’t break stride.
The guard didn’t answer—at least not quickly enough—and Gunner shoved him to the side. The locking mechanism of the door came loose at will and he pushed the panel aside quietly. A series of cells came into view but only one was occupied. He only sensed one person. He only felt her.
Elodie’s smell flooded his nose and her proximity electrified every fiber of his being.
Gunner approached her room quietly. It was the only one that had bars erected, but it was also the only one transformed into private quarters. He was pleased that she was kept away from everyone else. He’d demanded it.
Her quiet, even breaths came to him first, her body second as he rounded the corner. Elodie was lying on a bed facing the wall, her back to him, sleeping peacefully.
Completely unaware that he was there.
Gunner watched her for some time, suddenly uncertain how to proceed. He’d given time the chance to erode the strange bond between them, for her sake more than his, but it only made the ache in him grow each hour he stayed away.
But his patience had its limits. No one had ever disagreed with that.
Gunner wasn’t sure if he was there to say goodbye or to capture her anew. He had no plan but the immediate, instinctive need to see her—to be near her, even if it was the final time.
He didn’t know what they had now that their time was up. Technically, the deal between them had been satisfied.
His jackal propelled him forward and his machine-self agreed. The man in him was an outlier, having lost the battle to play hero.
He never entertained the thought that he was a good man.
Gunner turned away and found the mechanism that opened her room. The bars sank into the walls with a quietswish. Elodie remained asleep.
He moved forward and sat down next to her pallet, leaning his back against the wall, his head tilted to the side to rest behind hers. He breathed her in and waited. Watched.
***
HER HAIR FLUTTERED, tickling the back of her head. It was accompanied by a soft exhale of breath and a wave of heat.
Elodie’s eyes snapped open and her body went rigid. Her hair moved again and she reached up to touch it, to get rid of the feeling, but her fingers were caught and held tight. The hand that held her was rough and calloused and gripped her almost desperately.
