Fuck this war… or whatever it was.
He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face; the rock-hard callouses scraping down his skin felt good. He studied his upturned palms. At least he hadn’t grown claws like some. Tom had ripped his own face once. Only once. The beaster had learned. Same as he’d learned not to sleep on his wings for too long.
So many questions popped up when he recalled the scene above.
Boaz would be wanting to interrogate her.
For starters, how had she gotten away from the Ghoul Lords on the top floor, and from what he’d seen, with a piece of one in her hand? After years of them occupying the top of the world, no one else had escaped. It made him wonder if she was some new tactic from the enemy. What if he was meant to take her back just so she could locate his friends, his tribe, and bring down an army of those ass-licker guards?
Then… she opened her eyes, and he saw the shiny red flecks floating in her irises. Hair as dark as midnight shadows, pillow-soft red lips, or he imagined they were—soft and definitely kissable—and this.
Novel. He stared.
His eyes were bright blue, as were those of all of the nanomachine-modified beast horde. From early drone surveillance, the Ghoul Lords had shiny white eyes, as did their adapted human guards.
Groaning, she sat up on the mattress, letting the superhero-decorated blanket he’d draped over her slide loose. Even watching her sit up made him wince in sympathy. That rod of rebar was sunk straight through her. A small bump at the back showed where it almost pierced her skin.
He hadn’t dared to extract it.
Naked. Shit.Looking seemed sacrilegious. Her tits, those rendered him a little dumb in admiration. The shift of them when she made the slightest movement made it difficult to meet her eyes. He had to keep reminding himself to be nice and couth.
Few women had been chosen for the Experiment by Dr. Nietz. Fewer still remained alive, though there were the plain human females.
This girl seemed oblivious to the Lure, and this close to the top floor it was damned strong. Humans, generally, had to be hobbled to prevent the Lure pulling them upward to the GLs. Maybe he should tie her down when he slept? It would be wise if the wound didn’t incapacitate her. He didn’t fancy being stabbed because he was in her way. Or losing her.
He should find her some painkillers. Most medication was past its expiry date but still hadsomeeffect. A few made you sicker once expired. Swings and roundabouts.
“Whatare you?” he said quietly, not really expecting a proper answer.
“Cyn. Name…” She worked her mouth, cleared her throat, with a crease appearing on her brow. “Is Cyn.”
“Are you human?” He smirked. “Though you’d not say if you weren’t human, would you, cutie?”
“Cyn.” She reiterated firmly. “Not cutie.”
“Don’t like cutie?”
“No.”
“Sweetie?”
Her lip curled into a half-smile. “Fuck you.”
Vargr chuckled. “I’m Vargr. Russian name courtesy of a dad who had a thing for odd names.”
He still wasn’t sure what she was except she had fire. He sobered. If she didn’t die, it would be a shame to kill her.
“I should find you some clothes.” He’d almost grunted that out because his dick had chosen to rise hard against his pants.
“Pull out this?” She nodded at her stomach.
“No. Don’t. We need to—” His mouth fell open and he lurched upright, for she’d grabbed hold of the end, muttered something, and dragged at the bloody, twisted piece of metal. It emerged from her guts.
“Well. You are something, now aren’t you?”
Fuck, even he wouldn’t have done that. Mostly because it was stupid. Luckily none of her intestines had decided to stick to the metal.
“Jesus H.” Vargr wiped his mouth. “Keep your hand on it to stop it bleeding. I’ve got bandages. Let’s dress that.” And pray.
