He studied her in silence for several moments. “Initially—to talk. But your walk seemed more purposeful than not. Why did you come here?”
“Not to attempt escape, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said dryly. “I don’t know how to pilot a ship and unlike you, I can’t just jack in and download the programming.”
He flushed slightly. She wasn’t certain if it was because of her tone or the reference to his origins, but she regretted the comment almost at once. “What did you want to talk about?” she added quickly.
He looked uncomfortable. “I wanted you to know that I did not betray you.”
She studied him piercingly for several moments and finally shrugged. “I realize that. At first, I thought I just didn’t want to believe it. Later, I came to realize that it wasn’t just wishful thinking.”
He looked relieved, but also confused. “Reese told you?”
She frowned. “Told me what?”
His lips tightened. An expression of chagrin replaced his irritation. “I suppose I should have, but I did not realize that you were the one Reese had … chosen, not until … afterward.”
Amaryllis stared at him a long moment, trying to decipher the undercurrents of that comment. It sounded very much like he was saying he regretted what had happened between them and, to her surprise, she also realized it hurt to think he might. However she felt about Reese, she’d wanted Dante. She’d formed a bond with him in that time she’d spent with him secreted away from the others. “Sooo … you’re saying you wouldn’t have fucked me senseless if you’d known Reese had a prior claim?”
He shook his head slowly. Both desire and amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You misunderstand. I do not regret loving you. Each time I look at you I remember, and I can almost feel the softness of your skin, taste you, hear your sighs of pleasure, feel your heat surrounding me—and I want you again.”
Amaryllis swallowed with an effort, trying to banish the images he’d conjured in her mind, trying to tamp the rising tide of heat that flushed her skin with tingling sensation.
He moved closer, lifting a hand to trace his fingers lightly over one cheek.
“I do not even particularly regret that Reese tried to take my head off my shoulders, or that I spent nearly a month in solitary for concealing you. I only regret that my need for you clouded my judgment and led to your discovery,” he murmured, leaning down and capturing her lips beneath his in a kiss filled with need.
Amaryllis’ head swam as a heady rush of desire filled her, her body instantly remembering and responding to the call of his, as if the moments of intimacy they’d shared had marked her as indelibly his just as surely as Reese had when he’d laid siege to all her senses.
A confusion of emotions pierced her desire, bringing with it an unwelcome dose of reality. Reluctantly, Amaryllis withdrew before temptation could overwhelm her.
Dante drew in a shuddering breath and leaned his forehead against hers, stroking the side of her neck with one large hand. “Make contract with me, Amy. I want … I want to have a family with you.”
A sense of despair filled her. Couldn’t she just look to someone for comfort without having them want more than she felt like she could give, she thought crossly? She’d hoped to avert another situation like the one with Reese by avoiding intimacy. She might just as well have let him screw her brains out. At least then she would’ve found some release from tension, if only briefly. “Don’t call me that,” she said angrily, pushing away from him. “I’m not Amy anymore. I haven’t been Amy for a long time.”
His hands dropped to his sides. He looked at her with a mixture of anger and confusion. “Reese calls you Amy,” he said finally. “Is that it?”
Amaryllis glanced at him sharply. She saw then that he wasn’t just angry. He was hurt. A sense of contrition filled her. “It’s not that. It’s … it reminds me of everyone and everything that I’ll never see again.” It struck her then with a finality she hadn’t felt before. She couldn’t go back. She could never go home again. Even if the cyborgs freed her and allowed it, even if she could somehow find a way to convince the company that they didn’t need to kill her to keep their secret safe, she had a baby growing inside of her that was only half human. Whether she terminated the pregnancy or not, she was never going to feel the same again. She was never going tobethe same again. She’d had Reese and Dante inside of her, a part of her, and she’d loved every moment of it.
No one on any Earth colony would ever accept her again as being ‘one of them’. And she wouldn’t be able to bear listening to them discussing ‘the machines’, as if the cyborgs weren’t human at all. She, at least, had had a choice. They hadn’t.
It was ironic, really, that she’d become half cyborg only to be accepted as a whole human being by the rest of her race, and these people had been made half without their knowledge or consent and were considered nothing but machines.
“So you choose to be alone?” he asked angrily. “We are so different that you cannot stomach the idea of sharing your life with one of us?”
Actually, they weren’t really very different at all. They were about as fucked up as the rest of the human race, except that it had been with premeditation that the company scientists had chosen to produce them this way. The goal, she supposed, was to give them the ability to think, and act, and follow orders like a human without having the undesirable conscience that so often made killing difficult or impossible and carried with it long range debilitation. “I dowishyou’d stop throwing that in my face!” she snapped. “It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s me, alright! If it had been my ambition to be nothing more than a breeder—if I’d thought I would be any damned good at it—do you think I’d have chosen to be a soldier? You’ll have a far better chance at having what you want if you choose one of the others.”
He didn’t believe her. She could tell by the way he was looking at her. “Why? Because we are the same?”
“Yes!” she snapped, poking him in the chest with her index finger. “Because they selected only the best, the most superior DNA to produce you, all of you. You wouldn’t be taking the risks breeding with inferior genetics could produce.”
She stared at his stunned expression for several moments and finally brushed past him and walked briskly away. Tension filled her as she rounded the terminal and paused at the road, trying to decide whether to head back to the barracks or continue her exploration. She finally decided on the latter, because it represented a refuge of sorts.
Dante didn’t follow her. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or hurt. Deep down, she knew she was right, but it would’ve been soothing to have him brush her logical considerations aside and tell her it didn’t matter, that she was perfect in his eyes.
Even if it was a lie, it would have been nice.
Chapter Nineteen
Cain was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, when Amaryllis left her quarters the following day. She checked when she saw him, more than half tempted to retreat and lock the door.
