***

SHE WATCHED UNTIL GUNNER disappeared high up in the elevator shaft, her hand gripping the side paneling as he went out of reach. Out of sight.

Elodie turned away and slammed her back against the wall as another explosion rocked through the ship. It was followed by a hollow, whining sound. A shiver sliced up her back as the noise only continued to escalate by the minute. It seemed like the ship itself was crying out. It wasn’t a comforting sound.

She’d brought dead and dying machines back to life, but this was different.

She’d never heard a machine die.

Elodie shook herself and peeled away from the elevator chasm that reverberated the sound she didn’t want to hear—the wrenching sounds of the ship falling apart, but not Gunner’s return.

She made her way back to the others. Her body ached and her eyes burned from the smoke but she pressed forward, knowing she was lucky that she hadn’t sustained any serious burns or broken bones like some of the others. Gunner was to thank for that.

He had saved her life. Again. The image of his gnarled back returned unbidden to her thoughts. She didn’t understand. She could chalk it up to their deal but after everything that had happened between them, she wanted to believe it was more.

Her focus turned to a man who was leaning up against the wall and slightly away from the others. His skin was covered in welts and his leg was bent at an odd angle.

Elodie quickly rummaged through some of the medical kits that were scattered about, looking for any leftover supplies that hadn’t been used by the others to help him. She brought what she could find forward and kneeled at the stranger’s side.

His eyes slit open to watch her as she peeled back the sealing tape in her hand. Elodie pinched the gash closed on his forearm and placed the tape over it. The tape held the skin in place and that was all she hoped for.

Medical had never been her talent. The man clasped his hand over the wound and eyed her warily. She pulled back his frayed clothes to reveal even more burns underneath.

She picked up the half-used can and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, releasing the remainder of the serum on his wounds.

“Ely, right?” he asked.

“Elodie,” she corrected. “My name’s Elodie.”

“Pretty. Like a song.”

“Thank you...” She frowned.

The can sputtered as she moved to his leg. She shook it until more spray came out.

“Are you scared?” he asked as she worked on him.

“Yes.”

“I am too.”

She moved the empty can to his head. The entire right side of his face was red and angry, skin peeling back in strips. He cringed when the ship violently trembled.

“I was in the cell across from you.”

She lowered her hand and she looked into his pained eyes. Recognition. It hit her slowly, and her finger almost broke the can’s trigger.

“You were,” she whispered, searching his face. “You never spoke.”

“Neither did you.”

“I had nothing to say.”

“Neither did I.”

Elodie dropped her eyes and let go of the empty can. Useless. She wiped her brow and dug through the kits nearby, looking for something—anything—that could take away the man’s pain. It wasn’t fair that she had made it through the explosion with nothing more than a few scrapes and a couple bruises.

“There’s nothing left in here.” She pushed the kits away in disgust. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled at her through the pain.

She forced her eyes to meet his. “I’m really sorry.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to help.”

“You did.”

Elodie shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She didn’t feel helpful. She barely knew this man, but he spoke kindly to her, and she had sat captive across from him for weeks—weeks—without learning his name. Guilt and confusion assailed her. She wished Gunner was by her side to help sort through her turbulent emotions. “I’m sorry,” she said again, rising to her feet, and moving away before he could stop her. She decided she didn’t want to know him, didn’t want to form another connection with another being. Gunner already took up all of her thoughts.

God, I hope he’s okay.

A hand caught her bruised arm.

“Dad.” Elodie fell against his chest in defeat. Warm arms banded around her back, the same arms that rocked her to sleep when she was a child, and she sagged into him. Where had all the time gone? She never felt so old and so young at the same time. At the worst time. Her dad rubbed her back as fresh tears formed on her eyelashes.

“It’s time to go.” He curled her under his arm and she pressed into his side.

“Go where?” Elodie let him lead her away from the wounded.

“Home.”

***

WITH THE LAST LINGERING flashes of energy, Gunner gritted his teeth and broke through the final layer of metal between him and his prey. Claws curling around the ravaged steel, he vaulted through the shredded hole.

His gaze landed on the empty captain’s chair right as the barrel of the gun pressed into the side of his head.

“You don’t want to do that,” Gunner snarled.

“Cyborg,” Juke mused. “Took you long enough.”

Gunner twisted to face the captain. “So you knew.” The man before him was unexpected compared to the others on the ship. He was clean-cut, and... unassuming, with a thoughtful, dark expression. Cool blue eyes were set in a stony face that gazed back at him curiously.

“I knew.”

“You didn’t jump ship?” Now his own curiosity was piqued.

Juke removed the gun from his temple and walked away. Gunner’s eyes followed him to the giant panoramic view of space, to the vision that lay before him. A laugh escaped him as his eyes met dozens of battleships that surrounded the pirate ship from all sides.

He knew those ships, knew them well and was a little offended that so many had shown up for a one-man job. I was doing fine, fuckers.

“Couldn’t get there,” Juke answered, bringing his attention back to the captain. “My men wanted to see me dead before your secret came out. And it came out quick I might add. Did you know that?” The man laughed grimly.

“Enlighten me.” Gunner let the rest of his jackal form recede back into his skin as he prowled across the bridge and took a seat in the vacant captain’s chair. He enjoyed the feel of his blood soaking into the leather. “When?”

“Right after you started murdering my men. Right before Ballsy fucked off. He was probably the smartest man on my ship, leaving when he had the chance. He damn near killed the entire crew when he destroyed the security feeds and I lost all visuals of my men. I would’ve figured he was dead too if the ship hadn’t alerted me to that escape pod. I knew it had to be either him or you, but I knew it couldn’t be you because why would a Cyborg leave—flee, really—from the only lead he had? To get revenge?” Juke waved his gloved hand at the window.

“That didn’t answer my question. What gave me away?”

“Your ship. Your ship gave you away.”

Gunner sat forward and rested his bloody elbows on his bloody knees. “You cracked my codes?” He was oddly unsurprised after all that had happened. Ballsy knew he was a Cyborg when Gunner had confronted him, and he’d had a weapon that had fucked with his systems. The sociopath had bypassed his security codes. “So, what was it? The correspondences? My lab? Was it the cybernetics medical unit hidden behind my armory?”

Gunner spread his legs and braced against the violent vibrations that shuddered through him as another missile hit the ship.

When it stopped Juke replied, “None of that. None of that gave you away.”

“You can’t win this battle, Captain, so why don’t you give up while you still have your life?”

Juke laughed. “They won’t destroy us. Why would they do that? They know you’re on this ship. Why else do you think we haven’t been shot into oblivion yet? They have enough firepower to erase us.”

Gunner’s eyes drifted from the ships outside to the captain. “How? Really now? What gave me away?” He was beginning to go on the defensive as he thought back to everything that happened in the last two weeks.

“How do they know? Same fucking way Ballsy and I discovered your existence here. There was a goddamned tracker on your battlecruiser. Someway, somehow, my men missed it. Even Ballsy missed it.”

Gunner should’ve felt relief that they hadn’t been able to break through his security but he didn’t. He burst out into laughter. Impossible.

Juke turned around and narrowed his eyes. “We had your ship for less than three days, Cyborg, before a militarized fleet showed up out of the blue and took out the entire organization. Dozens of ships, cargo, everything, every man was either killed or seized in a matter of hours. Gone in a day. You really think my crew wanted mutiny over a couple of murders?” Juke sneered. “Someone gets murdered every fucking day on this ship. No. Word got out about what happened. That was the reason they were after me. Fear’s a great motivator, and suddenly, they had nothing left to fear.”

Gunner’s nostrils flared and he barely registered Juke’s words. His head was still wrapping around the fact that there was a tracker in his ship. Impossible. APOLLO would’ve sensed it. He would’ve sensed it. The idea was ludicrous unless...

Gunner clenched his hands and returned his attention to the battleships outside the window.

He took a deep breath to fill his nose with the scent of his lingering blood and sweat—the lingering death that he so enjoyed. Every code was his. Every system configured and examined. APOLLO was his. Even his Gunner girls were clean—in a manner of speaking—with his own personal programming, programming no one else knew.

The idea that the EPED had been watching him, keeping tabs, filled him with rage. It was a death sentence to encroach on a Cyborg’s personal systems without allowance.

Years in exile. Years alone. All because of the people he worked for.

His eyes trained on the ships that surrounded them, closing in by the moment. Vibrant arrays of light and metal debris littered the battlefield.

Juke was right; there was no need to fight or to stand down because the Peace Keeper fuckers were probably already boarding the ship.

“Are you going to kill me, Cyborg?”

Gunner was halfway shifted before Juke could finish his question. A low growl hummed darker, needier, up from the back of his throat. Once again his human teeth dropped out of his gums and scattered around his feet. His eyes swayed back and forth between Juke and the ships closing in.

Did they watch him now?

“I would bargain my life for your ship,” Juke said. “But they have it. The only reason we weren’t with the rest of the fleet was because of our cargo. We were on our way to Elyria—as you may have guessed—until we weren’t.” Juke stared fixedly at the teeth that rattled around between them.

Gunner canted his head. Would he kill Juke? The idea held favor. “The slave rings,” he whispered. “You were on your way to the slave rings.”

Elodie and everything she was arose in his head. Her shivering, dirty figure leaned up against the cold walls of the brig, the smell of her sweat and the heat of her flesh against his skin; the sound of her sighs and soft gasps of air. The barriers she erected over every calculated response and the way her eyes grew wide when he penetrated those barriers.

Gunner pictured her, standing naked at the flesh market.

He knew her ability to act under the pressure of an ongoing nightmare. Would she have survived the Elyrian slave markets? Some did.

The men out in the hallways hollered, their voices rising, the ruckus increasing as they fought through the jagged tunnel into the bridge. The ship rumbled and vibrated and groaned. The lights on the dashboard flared red. He didn’t need to connect with the systems to know that the boarding process had begun. Gunner drew back his lips to feel the stifling air drift across his canines.

“Juke.” He rose slowly to his feet, meeting the captain’s eyes in the glistening panel glass. He closed the distance, shaking his head. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Juke closed his eyes in relief.

Gunner lunged forward and sank his teeth into the man’s back, gouging out the vertebrae, yanking until his spine tore through flesh, muscle, and then finally the layers of cloth that had once covered it.

The bones splintered apart in his mouth and blood sprayed through the air. A shocked, guttural sound escaped Juke’s lips before no sound came at all.

I lied.