Morning came slowly. The light filtering through the boards covering the windows of Enver's room picked up dust particles in the air, making them sparkle like fairies dancing above Imogen's head. She sighed, burrowing her head into the soft pillow beneath her. Her body ached, a pleasant reminder of the night before. The soreness between her legs brought a smile to her lips, as she slowly returned to waking. She rolled over and peeked out from beneath her lashes only to find an empty space were Enver's body should be.

He's gone.

Her first thoughts leapt to memories of the words Hiram spat at her in the darkened alley. Now Enver would see her the same way, unworthy and unclean. She had done the exact thing which had destroyed her life before and couldn't even muster any regret. She sat up, gripping the sheet to her chest, and replayed the night before in her mind. It had been perfect. Exactly what she'd always dreamed.

She believed she had finally found a good man, one who could see her for who she was without judgment, that finally all of her worry and pain was justified.

To think she had eluded herself once again threatened to break her.

She climbed out of bed, that pleasant ache now verging on being a cruel reminder, and threw her handmade nightgown over her head. She crept out into the hall, glancing toward the bathroom door in the hopes Enver would appear and wrap her back up in his arms, but the door gaped open, unoccupied.

At the door of her room, she hesitated. Should she dress and pretend nothing ever happened between them or search for the man who had left her alone in bed?

She put off the decision. Either way, she needed more clothing on before going downstairs.

Imogen entered her room and slipped on a loose-fitting skirt and blouse. She didn’t spend a lot of extra time worrying about under skirts or whether or not the shape of her breasts could be seen through the clothes, her usual concerns about modesty. At least she was semi-respectable. She chuckled to herself. Pseudo-Respectable was all she'd ever been anyway. After slipping into her sturdy boots, she swept a hand through her unruly hair and ventured back out into the hall.

Thump.

The sound came from the floor below.

Imogen ran out into the hall and pushed open the doors to the stairwell.

Thump...

It came again. This time followed by a moan. Enver's moan. When she heard a low unfamiliar voice, her mind stopped processing rational thoughts, and she hurled herself down the stairs, running toward the danger, toward Enver.

She yanked open the door to the Ward, and she practically ran into the hulking shape of muscle standing between her and Enver's voice.

"Imogen, no." Enver's face appeared from around the man blocking her view, his eye swollen and blood smeared across his cheek.

Three men turned to face her once. Two large intimidating cyborgs and one smaller man, barely taller than Imogen herself, with oily skin and a twisted smile.

"So, if the medic here didn't repair our friend, perhaps it was the lady."

"It was me. Leave her alone." Enver gasped, and the cyborg closest to him delivered a blow to the stomach that would've knocked the air out of even the strongest cage fighter. Enver doubled over, falling to the floor with a grunt.

Imogen rush towards him, hands reached out, but before she could reach him, the smaller man stepped in her path.

"I've known our medic friend for quite some time. You'll have to forgive our unfortunate treatment of him, but it's so unusual for someone who knows the rules to suddenly start breaking them." The little man shook his head in a mock display of concern. "My only guess is that either he's truly come to betray us, or he's protecting someone else." His eyes trailed over Imogen, and she became uncomfortably aware of her lack of proper dress. His gaze moved over her body like the slimy trail of a slug and shivered.

"Leave him alone —"

"Don't listen to her. It was me."

Imogen glanced to the bed where the cyborg she had repaired lay, his eyes were open, deep brown and full of sorrow. "How could you?" she asked.

The cyborg turned away his eyes betraying his shame.

"It's amazing the things people will do when properly incentivized." The little man offered. "You see, what's happened here is a violation of cynker guild law. And short of any other law in the slums, our rules are sacrosanct. So either, the medic knowingly broke our laws—putting his life and his entire little project out here in the deadlands were he's permitted a certain degree of freedom – or someone else did so. Perhaps someone who didn't know better, who didn't realize the importance of playing well with others. Something like that the guild might be able to overlook."

Imogen looked around her, wishing she were more like Verity, able to fight and defend herself. She wished she were strong enough to defend Enver. She owed him everything, her newfound confidence, her freedom, her heart were all thanks to his kindness. The least she could do was defend the one thing he loved most in this world.

"I confess, I fixed the cyborg. I didn't even realize there was a guild of cynkers until afterwards. I just wanted to help him."

Enver's shoulders slumped as he stared at her.

"I see, so we have a little cynker in training. Now the proper channels should have been used, however, the repair work is quite impressive. Perhaps I will take you in as an intern, that way you can work off the fines you now owe for working as an unlicensed cynker in Cyn City limits." The man's smirk grew wider, and Imogen shivered.

"I'll pay the fines. Even if it means closing down the Ward, I'll pay them before I'll let you take her." Enver pushed himself up, struggling to stand, and before he made it all the way to his feet, one of the bodyguards delivered a punch to the face that sent him reeling back, crashing against their cyborg patient.

"Oh no, my friend," the cynker said. “This is not a debt that can be paid off on another's behalf. It's essential that my new intern learns the consequences of her actions."

Imogen shook, her body unable to stop the tremors that ran through her limbs. The two muscle packed bodyguards approached her and in the distance she heard Enver scream for her to run.

Her feet were frozen in place, the intensity of her fear blocking out all rational thought. When the men had her in their grasp, the cynker slithered up in front of her and reached out to touch her face. Animal instinct took over, and she snapped him with her teeth biting his finger and breaking the skin.

"Bitch!" he reared back and slapped her across the face, sending her careening into the side of one of the men holding her. Black dots flashed in her eyes, and her brain rattled around in her skull bouncing off the bone with agony.

"That's enough," a loud voice boomed from the door of the Ward.

The cynker backed up and sneered, but when his face fell, the bodyguards gripping her released their hold.

She rushed to Enver’s side not sure whether she intended to comfort him or seek reassurance for herself.

At the entrance to the Ward stood a dark-haired cyborg with a stubble of beard and jade green eyes that pierced through the dim morning light. His shoulders were broad, and he stood almost as tall as the door’s opening.

"Roland, we discussed the shit before. I shouldn't be showing up places to check on a friend only to find you here threatening women." The intimidating cyborg said.

Roland’s neck moved like a snake searching for an exit, and even the bodyguards took on a more submissive posture. "Taking care of some guild business. Got nothing to do with Cyn City PD." Roland’s eyes shifted back and forth.

"Hey, nice to see you Mason. Thanks for stopping by," Enver called out in his friendliest voice before spitting blood on the floor.

"Sounds like good timing," Mason replied.

"We'll just be on our way," Roland said slinking to the side and approaching Mason.

Before he could get away, Mason placed a hand on the small man's shoulder.

"I assume this is the end of this conversation and whatever guild business you had here is settled."

Roland sneered up at him. "Unguilded cynkers are not permitted."

"Then maybe someone needs an application," Mason said, the gears in his cybernetic arm whirling, as he tightened his grip on the smaller man.

Roland winced and glanced over his shoulder at Imogen.

"Yeah, we’ll take care of that. I'll let you know the dues."

Mason narrowed his eyes at the slimy man. "Monetary dues I presume, with a discount for her trouble."

Roland nodded and scurried away, his bodyguards following close behind.

"Now what's this Chance was telling me about the lady who might be in need of a little assistance. You know the Cyn City PD motto, serve and protect, baby." Mason broke out a bright smile full of white teeth.

Imogen relaxed, comforted to know Enver had powerful friends, as he and Enver chatted about Amanda’s situation.

Enver led Mason over to meet Amanda, and Imogen approached the cyborg who had betrayed her. She stared down at him, waiting until he gathered the courage to meet her eyes.

"Why?" It was all she could think to say. He knew exactly what she meant, and there could be no mistake of the betrayal his behavior had been.

The cyborg closed his eyes, worry lines appearing at the corners. "I couldn't pay them. With the layoffs at the deluge, I couldn't meet my quota. They threatened to take my legs, strip me for parts to make up the difference." He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I have people who rely on me. I had to do something, and they told me someone out here was breaking the law, that they were just trying to find a criminal. I had no idea this would happen. I swear."

"You mean you let them do that to your leg?"

The cyborg's face sank with shame. "I had no choice, please believe me."

Imogen’s heart went cold. "There's always a choice."

If anyone knew that, it was her.