He was already moving, leaping up to catch the edge of the ledge with one hand while keeping his weapon trained on the creature with the other. He pulled himself up in a single fluid motion, positioning his body between Cass and the creature.
“Get behind me,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off the creature.
Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, but she didn’t argue, tucking herself behind him and grabbing the back of his belt as if for reassurance. He’d never known such a mix of fearand determination—fear that he couldn’t keep her safe and determination to do whatever it took to protect her.
The creature’s head swayed back and forth, the movement reminding him of a snake. Or a lizard. Its head lowered, bringing its face level with his, its mandibles clicking together.
He stared back at the thing, unblinking.
“I’ll protect her,” he promised, and the creature paused, then responded with another short pulse of vibration.
Stalemate. He could see the intelligence in its strange, black eyes, the deliberation in its movements. But the creature was injured, bleeding from where his shots had hit it, and Roland’s attack had left odd, burnt-looking marks on its claws. It would have to retreat soon.
Instead it attacked, moving with that same astonishing speed. One of the huge claws knocked the gun from his hand, his hand going numb in the process. The claw slashed across his side as it tried to reach past him to get to Cass. He grabbed it with his uninjured hand in time to prevent it from reaching her, but the strength in its limb almost matched his own enhanced strength.
He forced his numb hand to obey him enough to grab for it as well, but as soon as his cybernetic hand touched the creature it hissed and recoiled, losing its grip on the wall. It dropped to the floor, dark blood dripping from the wounds he’d made.
It studied them, and for a second, he thought it was going to charge again. Instead it made one of its odd noises before disappearing back into the darkness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cass stared down the tunnel where the creature had disappeared, her heart hammering against her ribs. The impossibility of what she had seen—actual life on Mars—would have been thrilling under different circumstances. Now it only filled her with dread.
Zach didn’t lower his weapon for several long seconds, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. When he was satisfied the creature was gone, he holstered his gun and turned towards her.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, eyes scanning her for injuries.
She shook her head, then gasped when she realized that his shirt was ripped open across his ribs, revealing long, blood-stained gashes. “But you are.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, glancing down at the damage. “My nanites are already working on healing the wounds.”
“Let me see,” she demanded. The creature’s claws had cut deep, exposing a glimpse of metal beneath the torn flesh. Something inside her chest twisted painfully at the sight.
Tears sprang to her eyes, surprising her with their sudden appearance. “I’m so sorry, Zach. This is all my fault. I should have listened to you.”
He looked at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Cass?—”
“No, I mean it. My curiosity, my stupid need to know everything—I put us both in danger. I put you in danger.”
A tear spilled over, tracking down her cheek. She brushed it away angrily, but more followed. The adrenaline crash hit her all at once, leaving her shaky and vulnerable.
His expression softened in a way she’d never seen before. His hand, warm despite its mechanical nature, reached up to cup her face. His thumb brushed away a tear, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the strength she knew he possessed.
“Cass,” he said again, his voice lower, rougher.
Then he was kissing her, his lips finding hers with unexpected urgency. The kiss was desperate, passionate—nothing like she would have expected from him. His arms encircled her, pulling her against his chest, heedless of his injuries. She responded without thinking, her body melting into his, hands clutching at his shoulders.
The kiss seemed to stretch into infinity, suspending them in a moment outside of time and danger. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, staring at each other with matching expressions of surprise.
“I—” she began, then stopped, unsure what to say.
His eyes, those steel-gray eyes that could seem so distant, now burned with a silver intensity that stole her breath. His arms remained around her, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, unable to look away from him. “For putting you in danger. For all of this.”
He shook his head slightly. “It’s my job to face danger.”
“Not like this. Not because of my recklessness.”
