As she stared at Yria’s beautiful blue orb, an alien STD formed, badly hurting one of the male humans. A dozen pop-ups arose about the implications. Vee sighed, tugged off her visor, and stood, stretching her limbs. She couldn’t deal with a viral outbreak right now.
The championship would mostly be broad strokes, with only a dozen or so nitty-gritty details based on actions taken. But seeing the webs created by cause and effect had a way of tilting one’s reality dangerously close to paranoia. Vee rubbed her eyes and glanced at Cypher’s rig.
Bees slept on his chair.
He hadn’t joined her once, and that bothered her knowing they would have to make decisions as a team on the fly.
Will we be able to?
If she learned anything from the Cyborg she now shared space with, he liked to have control in all things—including her.
I miss him.She walked over to his chair and scratched Bees behind his ears. In the days since their arrival, he hadn’t allowed her to leave, not once, but he’d also avoided her. He’d gone out several times to procure things from his other ship, but did it when she was busy—only leaving a virtual note for her to find later.
Being on a ship was interesting, but the days melted together after a while. Especially with the portholes closed.Had it been days? Or weeks?She’d explored everything Cypher allowed her to already.
And she was lonely.
Vee chewed on her lip and stared at his chair. She hadn’t known how much she craved his attention until it was gone. She closed her eyes.Get used to it. You’re getting attached, and he’s not going to be around forever. This is temporary, only temporary.
Our lives lead different paths. He’s not boyfriend material.
He’s a dang Cyborg!
It’s not like he was a guy who lived down the hall from her apartment or someone she met at an event.And the way we met…
She still felt guilty about it.
Vee pulled her hand away from Bees’ fur and went for the door. A mewling meow followed her as she made her way to the bridge.
I only want to see him.Maybe smell him…She didn’t plan to disturb him—he’d been disconnected and grumbly each time she peeped in. The panels were open ahead of her, and she quieted her steps. Large screens displayed numbers, maps, even people.
She frowned and stopped at the threshold. Cypher faced away from her, standing before the screens, still as stone. He was out of his head; she was sure of it. She leaned against the doorframe and watched him.
The buzz of electricity tickled her ears, the airflow of a vent somewhere behind her, but Cypher didn’t make a noise. It was as if he were part of the ship itself. The only things that gave him away were his clenched fists and the scowl she was sure would be on his face.
He wore a tight black suit, a loose jacket, and had his long hair pulled back into a low ponytail—god, he was handsome. He was all muscle and toned curves. Her fingers twitched, remembering the velvet feel of him.
He belonged in this ship—in this bridge—but he also belonged shirtless and in a loincloth holding a spear, hunting prey in the wild. She pictured him as one of the alien primitives generated in her game, living in a hut, flourishing under the suns and moons.
And where was her place in all that? Behind a virtual world right now, gazing on.
“Vee,” he said, startling her.
No matter how quiet she was, he always knew when she was there. Heck, he always knew where she wasanywhere.
“Come here,” he ordered.
She moved to his side, and several images flew up on the screens before him.
“Do you recognize them?” he asked, indicating one image that was larger than the rest.
Her brow furrowed. Of course she recognized them. “They’re Deadly Dearest, and that woman in the front is Diatrix Greer. The others are her teammates. They’re one of the teams we’re competing against in the championship.”
“Right.”
She turned to look at him. “Why?”
“They’re loosely connected with one of the men who grabbed you the other day.”
