Rogue: A Dark Cyborg Romance Page 4
The cyborg sensed my presence, jerking the two officers to a dead stop. He snapped his head in my direction, a grin on his face. Only one of his eyeballs was intact, the other socket nothing but a maze of ravaged steel. His mouth was twisted but he still managed to laugh, as if he knew some deep, dark secret. There was something innately inhuman about the unit.
A zapping noise could be heard through the six-inch-thick glass, a reflective blue light encasing the cyborg’s battered body. He’d been tasered. Quite effective for the primitive style of cybernetic unit. As he slumped down, the male officer took more control, dragging the unit down the hallway. The female on the other hand stood where she was, her face pinched in anger as well as relief.
She drew my attention for some unknown reason. I was programmed to appreciate CRON capabilities, even helping them as necessary, but I had an instant dislike of what they stood for. No amount of reprogramming would change that fact.
They were, as far as I was concerned, my enemy.
My cock twitched again, my thoughts drifting to the same carnal needs as before.
She’d been roughed up, her luscious dark hair falling in strings around her face. Portions of her uniform had been shredded and the redness under one eye would no doubt turn to an ugly bruise by morning. She shook her head, spouting off something verbally in the direction of her disappearing partner before lifting her middle finger. A snarl formed on her face, obviously satisfied with her performance.
She was much different than the other females I’d come into contact with, the air of confidence, even arrogance quite frankly a huge turn-on. With one exception. I was shaken, trying to control my breathing. While she looked entirely different out of costume, I was almost completely certain she was the lovely woman I’d spanked the night before. Yes, she had to be the same girl.
I was thrown, knowing that coincidences didn’t often occur, at least in my world.
Her hands on her hips, she paced the floor, inching absently toward the reflective glass. Deep in thought, she almost brushed against the window.
After a few seconds, she sensed my presence, her body tensing. Then she tipped her head in my direction and we locked eyes. The electricity shooting through me was indescribable and not anything I’d experienced before, even during my travels the night before. Every inch of my skin was tingling, as if on fire. I wasn’t surprised by my reaction. We were connected in a manner few humans could ever understand.
I was able to gather the synergy exploding from every synapsis in her body. There was no scent at this distance, but I would gamble she reeked of pheromones. She had all the markings of an accomplished officer, high in the ranks, which meant she’d captured dozens of cyborgs during her tenure but to me, she was a woman in desperate need, longing for a dominant man on a permanent basis.
Her lower lip quivered and she was mesmerized at least for a few precious seconds. Sensations rocketed through me and my cock was once again throbbing, even more so than before. I knew by some instinct that she was important, but not in the ways that anyone could understand.
Fuck her. Use her.
The words were like sweet music. I was able to see the erectness of her nipples, pushing against her uniform. There was no denying her arousal.
She was supposed to be mine.
Vivid images of her swam into my mind, driving me to the point of questioning my sanity. I would take her, use her, and fuck every hole in a brutal fashion.
And she would love every minute of it, succumbing to me completely.
When she was yanked out of her mesmerized state by another member of the facility personnel, only then could I break the intense connection. My pulse raced and even my heart was skipping beats. What in the fuck was going on? She barked out a few words, waving them off and running her hand through her disheveled hair.
Continuing to be drawn to her, I palmed the glass, studying the dimly lit hallway and trying to control my breathing. The blue flashing lights meant the full security system was in play and everything was on lockdown. After a few minutes, I heard the sound of footsteps once again and tried to remain completely unfeeling.
Until she walked in close proximity, stopping short as she came within two feet of the glass. There was a glint of recognition in her eyes but laced with questions. The mask had done well to cover up my identity. Her chest was rising and falling, and her eyes were glassy. While I wasn’t able to read the minds of any human, my gut gathered her thoughts and her emotions. She had no idea why she was drawn to me, but the outline of her hard nipples was an excellent indicator of her needs. Shaking, she wavered until her partner moved in front of her.
Was there a hint of a dark stain between her legs?
Seconds later, they disappeared but not before we connected one last time. There was no denying what we’d shared. I glanced at the visual display, a dark chuckle escaping my lips given the erratic nature of my vitals. They were off the charts. Yanking the sensor units, I tossed them to the group, hissing at the entire concept. Counting to five, I took several deep breaths in a concentrated effort to calm my heart rate. A few seconds later, I felt much better, but the image of the CRON’s reflective eyes remained.
I was content at that moment, moving to the living area that I’d grown accustomed to, walking quickly to the small bar that had only been wheeled into my locked cage a month before.
Out of good behavior.
The whiskey I prized, enjoying the sting sliding down my throat, my thoughts remaining on the decorated officer. Our paths would cross again.
Soon.
And no one would be able to stop me from taking what was mine.
* * *
“Rogue. Good to see you. You’re looking well.”
“Dr. Petrov.” I tried not to glare at the man, but my hatred had grown during these last few months. Perhaps the additional experiments had finally targeted the limited human portion of my brain.
“You’re a very special specimen for us, Rogue. I’m certain you know that?”
Even the way Petrov was looking at me pissed the fuck out of me. Gone was the explosive need to fuck the female officer. “I am just another expensive number to you.”
He laughed. “You’re much more than that. You are vital in the next phase of evolution.”
If this was true evolution, I feared for the real humans given what little I’d heard. The world was in a precarious position, riddled with violence and greed. I’d read what few articles the government would allow dispensed to the civilians. Propaganda on one hand, utter truth on the other. I looked away, fighting the very present anger. “I performed the duty as requested.”
“Excellent. You’re very obedient, Rogue, which makes this more difficult for me.”
I simply glared at him.
Dr. Petrov cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, I have some news.”
“You always do.”
He laughed more nervously than normal. Even his Russian accent seemed heavier tonight. I knew the entire facility was on lockdown. Why the particular useless cyborg brought in by the CRON had troubled the entire team of scientists so significantly was curious. “What news?”
“It’s about your release.”
I turned in his direction. “What about my release?”
“It’s been pushed back temporarily.” He took a step back and out of my reach, clearing his throat. He was on edge, his skin more of a light gray than I was used to seeing. Fear did that to a human. “Probably only for a month or so. We’re getting significant pressure from the government to make certain that whenever we release the new models that they are completely devoid of the disease plaguing the previous cyborg units. I’m certain you understand. We must be careful in every aspect. You’re far too vital of an instrument to have anything go wrong.”
“Understand?” I had my hand wrapped around his throat in less than two seconds, his feet lifted off the floor. “No, I don’t understand your ridiculous politics or the games you and the others are playing.”
I could see terror in his eyes. He certainly knew my capabilities. I could snap his neck without exerting any energy. I also knew his finger was on the instrument he carried at all times, which would bring reinforcements. I had a choice to make. Play along or have my synthesized brain removed, which would eventually kill the human side. I slowly eased him to the floor, releasing my hold. “Am I to believe that there is an issue with my prototype in particular?”
“Not... at all,” he said then coughed, rubbing his neck. “But I have to convince members of Congress that there are no issues. They are running scared. You’re fully aware of what’s been happening. People are being murdered!”
Perhaps the cyborgs had grown weary of being hunted, longing for the same kind of freedom we all craved. I remained quiet, flexing my fingers. Every muscle ached tonight, tension creating something I’d never experienced before, pain behind my eyes.
“You are our star model, Rogue,” Dr. Petrov continued, his smile returning. Every doctor had played me. “All you have to do is prove certain aspects of your functionality and everything will go back to normal.” He took several backward steps, now completely out of my reach. His hand was shaking as he moved around my bed, pulling the small computer system into the light. “Why don’t you rest for the night? There are some new interactive programs we installed on your comstall unit, plus it’s obvious you need recharging.”
I studied his actions as he slipped a small disc from his pocket. Not only did I barely tolerate this human, I didn’t trust him. He had a hidden agenda. All humans did.
Dr. Petrov kept his back to me as he installed the program. “I think you’ll enjoy them. They should relax you. We can talk further in the morning and develop a plan. Right now, I have my hands full with other tests.”
Other tests. I couldn’t be the only cyborg of my generation in the building. Maybe we were all facing the same bleak future. I let out a long breath, my anger reaching a pinnacle. “Yes, we will talk, Doctor.”
“Good night, Rogue. I only want the best for you. I hope you know that.”
I snickered, remaining unblinking.
After swallowing hard, he scurried out of the room, turning off the lights.
As if I needed them to see in the dark.
I moved toward the bed, fighting not to break the comstall into a million pieces. I was curious why the good doctor had provided the interactive program himself. An assistant was always the one who attended to the machines at night. Perhaps Sara was afraid of her required discipline. I exhaled, rubbing my crotch. New programs meant feeding my raging desires. I would rest, but what would occur tomorrow neither he nor the rest of his illustrious staff would enjoy.
I was finished with being a caged animal.
Chapter Three
Noire
“Fucker. Asshole motherfucker.” I glared at the mirror, wincing when I touched the mark left by one ugly shithole of a cyborg. The ugly machine had given me a black eye. Sighing, I yanked a towel from the container, soaking it with cold water. As if I could stop the swelling. Even the softness of the material was painful.
Why the hell did I continue to do this job?
Because very few people dared to undertake such a dangerous job. There’d been too many breaches in security and far too many deaths attributed to machines.
In truth, not just the reprobates with fried programming, determined that humans were their enemy, but by humans themselves. Two wars had nearly destroyed our planet, stripping entire countries of vegetation as well as people. But from what I’d been taught as a child, so many of the influential and important people had been protected, given a secure location well below the earth in order to keep humanity going.
I almost laughed out loud at the thought. What humanity there was continued to be plagued with issues brought out long after the destructive wars. First there’d been basic robots, performing menial tasks such as putting the world back together, but the advanced technology had been saved, providing blueprints for actual cyborg units. After the initial basic success, full androids were perfected, which were nothing more than life-size machines given the basic appearance of a human. Then the evolution of cyborgs.
That was the short story my father had told me long ago. Initially he’d left out the part where the majority of citizens rallied against the invention, many terrified they were products of the devil. So much for technology.
Shuddering, I realized that I’d never known life without some version of the cyborgs. Many of the earliest models performed well, providing domesticated services to families in need of nothing more than glorified maids. That alone had dispelled the concerns. Then the second generation had brought artificial intelligence, fueled by programs designed to emulate human emotions and desires.
By the third generation, they were thinking beings, capable of reasoning on their own.
That’s when the trouble had begun. From what my father had told me, there were always rogue cyborgs, fighting their caged life. Whether the issue had been from bad programming or short circuiting, they’d been quickly eliminated. The reprobates—originally known as Gen A— had been thought to be the perfect model, capable of providing intellectual aspirations and physical labor, some even serving the military. What I often found difficult to understand was that my father was a major part of bringing them to life, believing cyborgs could provide stability, even protection.
He’d been wrong.
When all hell had broken loose almost fifteen years before, the world was in yet another uproar, skirmishes within countries turning to near cataclysmic wars. At that stage, we could have been wiped out completely.
If it hadn’t been for the scientists promising a better life, people would have destroyed even more of the cities and towns. I’d lived through enough to know that the government had protected Gen A as if they were Gods. My belief was that members of Congress were hell bent on machines taking over the rest of the world, leaving the United Republic States as the supreme leader once again.
Of course, no one else believed me, including my father. He’d gone to his deathbed praising what his fellow scientists had been able to do, insisting their work was for the betterment of mankind. I wondered what he’d say if he’d known the greatest generation of machines was so organized, plotting to kill off members of society. They seemed to be getting smarter and certainly more cunning. Hunting them down had never been my objective as a bright-eyed child, but now? I was glad to be a part of the eradication. Still, I’d been the little girl determined to bring back the real world, longing to work in the environment reforming agriculture and breeding livestock.
Well, that hadn’t been in the cards. My father had convinced me that serving CRON would make certain that I was protected, especially if another war occurred. He believed CRON would aid the scientists, not turn into basic assassins of the very creation he believed in. I’d allowed myself to be talked into applying for the position only two weeks before his death. With a little help from his connections, I’d been rushed through the program. Too bad I’d always been the troublemaker, causing issues for myself as well as my family. But no amount of guilt or lamenting would bring my father back.
I snarled at my reflection, trying to grasp everything I’d seen and heard during my adventure at the facility. The scientists were up to something. My gut told me that; however, I’d never be allowed to get close enough to find out.
Not on my pay scale.
After a few seconds, I knew there would be no comfort at this point. The black eye would hurt like a son of a bitch. I tossed the rag into the incinerator, smiling when I heard the hissing sound made by the licking flames. I certainly couldn’t allow any ger
ms or particle matter from the diseased cyborg to leave the bathroom, now could I? An offense punishable by incarceration.
Or worse.
I needed a shower and a change of clothes.
No, I needed a damn drink. How many horrors had I seen during the last several months in particular? Too many. The reprobates were out of control. I hated being at the damn facility, loathed the work the scientists were doing. Our entire world would be taken over by machines if they had their way. Shivering, I slapped my hands on the edge of the sink.
I took one last look and a stark vision popped into the reflection in the mirror, startling the fuck out of me. The face. The one I’d seen at the Cyborg Services Facility. He was right there, staring back at me, a big brute of a man with coal black hair and a gorgeous body. I sucked in my breath, a cold chill sliding down my spine. Even after blinking several times, his face didn’t disappear. “Shit, Noire, get a grip.” I’d been working on this particular case for almost two weeks with little or no sleep. No wonder I was seeing things. Staying out until almost two in the morning certainly hadn’t helped.
Closing my eyes, I shivered as the material of my uniform scratched my bruised ass. The spanking had been... shameful.
Humiliating.
Ridiculous.
The hard fucking with a stranger? Insane. Now, I was seeing a face. I bit my lip and took another glance into the mirror, blinking furiously in an attempt to rid the hallucination.
But he was still there in shadows, his expression one of unbridled lust.
I had to admit, the prototype was a sexy as hell machine with rugged muscles and two-day stubble covering a carved jaw. He had dancing eyes undressing me, penetrating my very soul. And those full lips were meant for kissing on long, cold nights. His eyes were ones I’d never forget, surreal midnight blue with iridescent flecks. I stared into them, drawn into a vacuum.