“I’ll make her scream.” The second male extracted a huge knife from a sheath.
She dropped her pack, preparing to fight as though her lifespan depended on it—which it did. “Don’t come any nearer.” Her hands shook. “I’m warning you.”
“She’s warning us.” The male with the knife laughed. “What are you going to do, cunt?” He edged closer to her. “Poke me with that thing?”
A dark blur streaked past the male. It moved so quickly Arlicia questioned her eyesight.
“She isn’t going to do anything.” A massive male, clad in black body armor, appeared in front of her, positioning himself protectively between her and her attacker. “I, however, will do this.”
One moment, the dirty-teethed male was holding the knife.
The next moment, metal clinked against stone. The knife slid along the pathway. And both of her attacker’s hands twitched by his booted feet.
He screamed and waved his arms in the air. Blood spurted from his severed wrists.
Two more red stripes appeared on his chest.
A deeper slash ran along his stomach. It gaped open. His innards spilled out.
The male dropped to his knees and frantically tried to stuff his insides back into his form.
Bile clawed up Arlicia’s throat. She gagged.
But she didn’t lower her makeshift weapon. It was now three males against the two of them, and she was determined to help in any way possible.
Not that her protector appeared to require any assistance.
“Move with me, my female.” He reached behind him and gripped her, forcing her to turn as he did.
She grasped his waist, pressed against his hard physique. The contact with him soothed her.
Because this was no stranger defending her. That deep voice had haunted her dreams for planet rotations.
Hoarse had arrived. He was tall and broad, was even larger than she predicted he’d be.
And he was killing for her.
“What the—” The male to her left grabbed his throat. A dagger stuck out of it. He gurgled blood, toppled backward. His head smacked against stone. His arms and legs gyrated.
Hoarse turned again, taking her with him. “You said screaming made you hard.” Anger edged her male’s voice. “Are you hard now?” He threw another dagger.
That blade pierced the male’s groin. He screeched and fell to his knees.
As his head bowed, Hoarse sliced a blade across his nape. The male’s skull tumbled to the ground, rolled along the pathway.
Stars. Arlicia’s head spun. There was so much blood, so much death.
It took all of her willpower, but she maintained her hold on the fabric-cutting tool and her grasp on her warrior. He faced the last uninjured male and she remained right behind him, determined to do whatever was needed to safeguard them.
“You said you like it when they fight.” Hoarse folded his fingers into huge fists. “I like to fight also.”
“This isn’t your concern, machine.” The first male, the leader of the ragtag group, pointed the metal tube at her protector.
“When you attacked my female, it became my concern.” Hoarse widened his stance. His possessive tone cut through Arlicia’s horror and shock. “She is mine and no one touches what is mine.”
There would be no denial, no protests coming from her.
She was his, had belonged to him for planet rotations, since the first moment they spoke.
Once the nightmare surrounding them had ended and her knees stopped trembling, she would show him that. But at the moment, her desire for him was secondary to her fear for their lifespans.
Because the battle wasn’t over. The leader knew who Hoarse was, what he could do, yet he wasn’t backing down. That meant he either lacked logic or he was certain he could defeat them.
Both were dangerous situations.
“Tell me how I can help you, Hoarse.” The situation was far from any she’d experienced. She didn’t know what she should do.
“You, a human female, a peace-loving doll fabricator, seek to help me, a cyborg, a being manufactured for killing, for fighting, for dying?” His voice was barely audible. His tone was incredulous.
He didn’t turn his head, his focus remaining on their enemy.
Hoarse believed he’d been manufactured for dying.
Panic filled her. “I won’t allow you to die.” She slipped under one of his arms, stood in front of him, pointing the fabric-cutting tool at the human male.
“I’m not dying.” Hoarse pushed her behind him once more. “I’m not yet skilled in doll fabrication, but I am skilled in ending lifespans.”
He was skilled in both. She frowned up at his wide shoulders. “I—”
The human male swung the metal tube at Hoarse.
Her male caught that makeshift weapon easily with one of his large palms. “Protect my back.” He bent the tube, wrapping the metal around their enemy’s hand.
Stars. She blinked. He was strong.
“Can you do that, Arlicia?” Hoarse shoved the male backward.
“I’m protecting your back.” She gripped the fabric-cutting tool, looked around them.
There were no visible threats.
“Is this a fast death or a slow death?” Hoarse caught the male’s skull between his hands and squeezed, lifting him off the ground.
“It will be a fast death.” The male reached behind him with his one remaining hand and drew a gun, pointing it at Hoarse.
Arlicia sucked in her breath. The fear she’d faced when she’d confronted the males alone was nothing compared to the terror she felt now.
Hoarse, her protector, her male, would die and—
“I wasn’t asking you.” Hoarse threw the male upward, into the air, knocked the weapon out of his opponent’s fingers, and recaptured the male’s skull between his huge palms. His movements were mind-spinningly fast. The gun clattered against the pathway. “Arlicia, do I kill him slowly or quickly?”
“He tried to shoot you.” Her horror flowed to pure unadulterated fury. The male had sought to kill her warrior, her male. Her entire form shook with the force of her anger.
“Slowly, it is.” Hoarse chuckled. His biceps bulged.
The male’s face turned red, then purple. Veins popped on his forehead. His eyes widened. He kicked and punched Hoarse.
Her warrior showed no signs of pain, but that must have hurt him.
Arlicia jutted her jaw. “Hoarse is mine, and no one touches what is mine.” She raced forward and jabbed the human male with the fabric-cutting tool.
The male squealed. His body bowed.
“And you shouldn’t attack beings.” She stuck him again with her improvised weapon. “That wasn’t very nice of you.” She pierced his skin once more.
“You were fabricated for me, Arlicia.” Humor lightened Hoarse’s voice. “Don’t ever question that.”
There was a horrid crack, followed by a smushing sound. The male jerked and then he fell.
His skull was caved in. Arlicia saw brains and too much blood.
The battle was over. The danger had passed.
Her fury, her fear, was replaced by the horror of what had happened, what she had done.
“Hoarse.” She swayed on her booted feet. Her fabric-cutting tool fell from her fingers.
Her male caught it, placed it in one of his holsters, swung her into his arms. “That’s enough fighting for this planet rotation.”