“The pod,” he said slowly. “The thing you found me in. It was… a machine?”
“I thought it was organic. A biological stasis chamber of some kind. But if there was nanite technology integrated into its structure…” Alina’s pacing had brought her back to him, and she reached out to touch his chest, her palm flat against the place where his heart pounded. “You might be both, Rhyx. Ancient and modern. Biological and technological. A bridge between what Mars was and what it’s become.”
“A bridge.” He didn’t like the word. It made him sound like a thing, a tool, rather than a person. “Or an experiment. Something someone built for their own purposes.”
Alina’s expression softened. “That’s not what I?—”
“No.” He covered her hand with his own, pressing it more firmly against his chest. “It doesn’t matter. However I came to be, whatever I am—I’m here now. I’m real. I have thoughts and feelings and… and I love you, Alina. That’s not something that was programmed into me. It’s something I chose.”
Her eyes glistened. “Rhyx…”
“You said these cyborgs—they have the same healing? The same technology in their blood?”
“Similar, yes. The nanite colonies that?—”
“Then they might know something about what I am. About where I came from.” He took a breath, steadying himself for what he was about to suggest. “You should talk to them.”
Alina blinked. “The cyborgs?”
“If there’s a connection between us—between whatever made me and whatever made them—they might be able to help. They might have answers.” He paused, weighing his next words carefully. “And they might be the allies you were looking for. The ones who could help protect me.”
“The cyborgs don’t exactly have a friendly relationship with human authorities,” Alina said slowly. “After the uprising, after everything that happened… there’s a lot of distrust on both sides.”
“But your friend. Cass. You said she’s mated to one of them?”
“Zach.” A small smile crossed Alina’s face at the name. “He’s different. He’s—but yes, you’re right. If there’s anyone who might be able to bridge the gap between our communities, it would be them.”
She looked up at him, and the calculation in her eyes had shifted to something warmer, something more like hope.
“This could actually work,” she said. “If the cyborgs are willing to help—if they can provide sanctuary, or at least information—we might have a chance of keeping you safe without having to run or hide.”
“Then you’ll talk to them?”
“I’ll talk to Cass. See if she can arrange a meeting with Zach and some of the other cyborg leaders. But it will take time. I can’t just?—”
“I know.” Rhyx pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head under his chin. “I know you have to go. I know there are things you need to do in your world that I can’t be part of yet. But Alina…”
He tipped her chin up, making her look at him.
“That man you mentioned. Martin. You said he’s gone?”
“For a week. He’s meeting with the people who want to find you.”
“A week.” Rhyx let the word roll around in his mind, tasting the possibilities. “And tonight? Does he know where you are tonight?”
Alina’s cheeks flushed—he’d come to recognize that particular deepening of color as a sign of arousal, of desire she was trying to contain.
“No,” she admitted. “Cass knows, but she’ll cover for me if anyone asks.”
“Then stay.” He lowered his mouth to hover just above hers, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. “Not forever. Not until morning. Just… tonight. Give me tonight, Alina. Let me have this one night to hold you, to show you what you mean to me. And tomorrow, I’ll let you go. I’ll wait here, and I won’t complain, and I’ll trust you to come back when you can.”
She was trembling against him—whether from desire or the weight of the decision, he couldn’t tell.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered. “You can’t just—asking like that, looking at me like that?—”
“Is it working?”
A small, helpless laugh escaped her. “You know it is.”
