I’m alive.

I’m dying.

I’m having an orgasm.

So pleasurable it was almost painful, and yet, she’d do it again in a microsecond.

Unfortunately, her lover might not have the same ability.

Avion collapsed on her, and after the explosive passion, which still muddled her brain, it took her a moment to process what it meant.

When it did, a new emotion assailed her, and panicky words emerged from her lips, words not spoken by Lilith but the other who lived in her head. “We killed him. Oh no. We killed the man we love.”

Not quite. But Avion certainly wasn’t well. The boost from her nanos seemed to have worn off. Once again, the bots coursing through his body chose to die rather than regenerate.

It made no sense.

Lilith rolled him off her body and onto his back. She skimmed her hands down his length, but it didn’t change the prognosis. While the nano-infused blood she’d given still did its best to repair, slowly, one by one, the tiny bots that he needed died.

“No. No.” She found herself repeating the denial over and over. She didn’t realize she was broadcasting it ship-wide until the door to the room slid open and a disheveled Aramus strode in, followed by his human mate.

“What’s going on?” Aramus barked.

“He’s dying.” Which meant no more Avion. But she couldn’t allow that. Avion made her feel alive. Avion saw her. He dispelled the loneliness. She needed him.

“I thought the transfusion worked. What kind of kinky robotic sex did you subject him to?”

“Aramus!” His wife colored as she uttered his name in a shocked tone.

“Oh, come on. Anyone can tell what they were up to. How do we know that’s not what made him collapse? The boy was still recovering.”

“As if a little sex could take down one of you metal nuts,” Riley griped. “Move aside so I can check on him.”

“He’s naked.”

“Which will make my exam easier, you jealous lug. Now move out of the way.” Aramus stepped aside so Riley could approach.

“How long has he been like this?”

“What is two earth minutes. But time is of no matter. His nanotech is once again shutting down.”

“I’ll take your word for that. However, just because his little bots aren’t cooperating doesn’t mean he’s going to bite the bullet. Let’s see how the rest of him is doing.”

Lilith couldn’t see the point in the human palpating Avion, in a fashion she did not care for but allowed. The woman pulled at his eyelids and shone a penlight in them, but the orbs were once again dead. She opened his mouth and peered inside. Riley even placed her fingers on his pulse and used a watch to count the beats.

Lilith could have told her they were sluggish.

Riley stood. “He’s definitely not doing so hot. We need to get him to the infirmary and get him on a nutrient IV. Bad news is Lilith is right. His nanos aren’t working. However, the good news is at least he’s not as bad off as when he arrived.”

“But?” Aramus queried.

“But unless we find ourselves a real cure, it’s only a matter of time before his body shuts down and he dies.”

Despite having come to the same conclusion, Lilith didn’t like hearing it said aloud. He can’t die. No. No. No. “I will give him more blood. Perhaps I didn’t give enough previously.”

Before Lilith could tear at her skin, Riley placed her hand on Lilith’s, stopping her. Another squeamish human.

“I’m not saying it won’t help, but I think you need to prepare yourself, Lilith, that, at best, it’s a temporary measure that will extend his life for only so long.”

A part of her recognized the truth in Riley’s words. It didn’t stop the emotion that shook her.

Frustration and fear. Add to that, anger. Lilith wanted to rail at the doctor. At them all. Even if her blood only provided a temporary boost, it was worth it. She’d give him blood daily, every hour if needed, to keep him alive.

Except…her blood refused to work the second time around. They hooked her to an IV, same as before. Avion had regained consciousness, his first thought for her.

Don’t be frightened, Lilith. Even if I die, my friends won’t leave you alone.

But didn’t he understand? She didn’t want his friends. She wanted him.

Her nanos, however, didn’t. Or was it his body rejecting them?

Either way, the second transfusion did nothing. The alien tech died as soon as it hit his bloodstream.

Frustrated, Lilith ripped the IV from her arm, and before anyone could react—fast as fast can be, you’ll never catch me—she tore open the skin over her wrist, nicking an artery. She slapped the wound over Avion’s mouth, muffling his protest.

She kept it pressed and ignored the pounding on the shield bubble she’d placed around them, knowing his friends would try and interfere. We mustn’t kill them. Avion would not like that.

Her blood, even drunk from the source, did not cure him.

I cannot fix him.

He will die.

Unless… She knew of one place that could perhaps help closer than the T’xa world.

We aren’t supposed to return. He sent us out on a mission.

And that mission had failed. Her creator had miscalculated when it came to the human race.

We swore an oath to never divulge the location or talk about our experience there.

Promises are made to be broken, cackled her other voice. You go, girl. Break some rules.

Lilith intended to.

The mission she and those five others had set upon had changed. The humans weren’t ready for the enlightenment her creator hoped to impart. The enemy had found them. Nothing was going as it should.

I am tired of it. Tired of everything in my life going wrong.

She was also scared. Avion died. Avion, Avion, soar with me, Avion. With him, she floated, free and happy. Without him?

No. She would not allow his death. I forbid it.

A promise to someone who cast her out without a second thought? Too bad. Lilith would break her vow to her mentor to see Avion live.

She sent new coordinates to the ship, overriding the current commands. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Everyone heard Aramus’ bellow. “Freaky girl! What have you done?”