She scanned another container. Words flashed above her wristcon telling her what it was: grain.
“There you are.”
Alexa saw her coworker walking into the room. Raul, her menagerie maintenance partner. Middle-aged and muscled, Raul was a decent-looking human man. With thick black hair that was cut short and curled around his head, he always appeared as if he’d spent his morning sitting in front of an industrial fan. What with his five o’clock shadow covering his jaw, Alexa was certain he had.
He could’ve spent that time shaving instead. He was dressed in the same form-fitting uniform she wore. Unlike hers, his vest wasn’t zipped to his neck, which left a peek of his white undershirt showing underneath.
His name tag was displayed prominently on the right side of his chest. Raul Gilmartin.
All of her crewmates were well-built. One had to be in peak condition for a job such as theirs.
With a pallet under his arm, Raul moved past her and set his load down, locking it in place. She went to his side and scanned it.
Tranquilizers.
A lot of them. Alexa licked her lips. When she looked up, Raul was watching her curiously.
“You do know there’s more to load, right? You can scan them in later,” Raul said. “It’s not like we’ll have a ton to do between requisitions.”
“I needed to get out of the heat for a bit.” She held up her rag still scrunched up in her hand.
Raul laughed. “If you think this is hot, you should head south to Texas for the summer. This heat isn’t anything compared to that.”
She headed for the door. “Right.”
A hand grabbed her arm. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
She tensed and looked down at Raul’s hand on her. “Release me.” Her eyes snapped up, realizing what he just said. “Him?”
“Our captain, the boss man, the scary Cyborg fucker we now work for. You’re in here because of him, aren’t you?”
“I—”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. He gives me the heebie jeebies too.”
“I’m not here because of him. I’m not scared of our captain,” she said. Oh, how she lied.
“You heard what he is, right?”
She shook his hand off. “Besides a Cyborg?”
“He’s one of those shifter ones.”
“I knew that.” She did know that. She’d known that since before he killed her father. People whispered about him back home, saying Hysterian could bring you bliss or death with a single touch. She didn’t know of an animal in all the universe that could do that.
She didn’t know what kind of animal Hysterian was, and it wasn’t for a lack of research.
That type of information about a Cyborg was heavily guarded. Besides several old articles about Hysterian’s time during the war, there was virtually nothing about him anywhere. There was very little about any Cyborg.
It was frustrating. It made tracking him hard, at least at first.
What made them so special? It wasn’t fair how they were given things that normal people weren’t. Most humans would give their souls to be born into the kind of power Cyborgs possessed. Killing machines with unlimited freedom… It wasn’t fair. They needed to pay for what they’d done.
Unlimited freedom, unlimited strength, unlimited wealth and power.
Alexa was desperate to ask Raul if he knew Hysterian’s animal. But that would reveal that she cared enough to know more about the Cyborg. Could she trust Raul? Trust wasn’t her thing.
“Although, I hear he’s messed up,” Raul said. “Bad design or something. It’s made him mad, really mad. Being defective. Heard he only took this job because there’s a possibility the EPED could fix him.”
“Messed up?” Bad design? Wait? “Defective?” She’d never heard of Hysterian being defective. She’d also never heard of Hysterian having a problem with his mecha side, but then again, the only information she had about him came from people who used to work with him.
And those were some shady individuals. Anyone who worked for the crime boss Raphael at his club, Dimes, wasn’t someone you wanted to know. Which was who Hysterian used to work for.
Traffickers, drug dealers, murderers, rapists. Raphael surrounded himself with shit. And since Hysterian had been working for him, Alexa assumed he had done all of that and worse.
Shit breeds shit.
“Yeah,” Raul continued. “Daniels, his second-in-command, was given a briefing by the big guy, Nightheart. We’re not supposed to get close.”
“What do you mean ‘get close?’ I haven’t heard anything.”
“He probably hasn’t come to talk to you yet. You know how it is.” Raul shrugged.
“No. I don’t know how it is. Is it because I’m a woman?”
He let out another laugh that made her bristle. “Woman? Not at all. We’re all stoked you’re here. What I meant is that—” Raul stopped and looked at something over her shoulder. She watched as Raul squared his shoulders.
Someone was behind her in the doorway.
A feeling of foreboding had her inhale a breath and hold it. Alexa stiffened, knowing exactly who it was behind her. She prayed Cyborgs couldn’t really read minds, and that was all a rumor too.
“Captain,” Raul said and genuflected, briefly catching her eye in warning. “What can we do for you?”
She twisted and locked eyes with him.
Her captain.
Hysterian.
Though his suit came up to cover everything below his eyes, she would recognize him anywhere. Those dark irises, the sharp brows framing the tops of his eyes, and his incredibly pale skin were unmistakable. She was pale herself, but Hysterian was unnaturally so. Like at any moment, he’d go translucent and slip into thin air.
But it wasn’t his skin and eyes that were so recognizable, it was his hair. It was shock white, pulled back from his face and gathered behind his head, falling to an arrow-point at the base of his neck. It was always perfectly kempt, and she didn’t know how he did it.
She couldn’t imagine an indomitable war machine using hair gel.
Hysterian stepped forward, his hair brushing the top of the door frame. He was tall, and built too, because what Cyborg wasn’t muscled? Hysterian wasn’t like a wrestler. He had a ripped, lean way to him. His neck and arms were long, and what she could see of his facial features were sharp and piercing, giving them the appearance of elongation without the uncanniness.
He was one of a kind.
He clearly looked down at them.
Pushing her sudden hatred and curiosity deep within her, she greeted him. “Captain,” she said thickly, nodding her head. His eyes went to her, and she nearly choked on her heart.
“Ms. Dear, Gilmartin, you’re needed in the menagerie. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” both she and Raul said at once, breaking the tense moment.
Hysterian remained in the doorway when Raul tried to leave, refusing to let him pass. Awkwardly, Raul waited for him to move so he could obey the order. Alexa remained behind. She was immobilized under the Cyborg’s gaze.
His cold, black eyes were hard to be under, and Alexa tried not to balk. She summoned her courage and clenched her hands.
It would be better if Hysterian didn’t know she existed. The longer she stayed under his radar, the easier it would be to destroy him. If he saw her coming…she was as good as dead.