Marcus 582: Book Three of Cyborgs: Mankind Redefined by Donna McDonald Page B
Authors: Donna McDonald
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talking to her. Seetha said her last resonance adjustments only held for one day. The device in her throat is fine. It’s the sync with her cybernetics that’s failing. Rachel’s stammering is a sure sign her processor is getting worse.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
Kyra hung her head. “I’m sorry to add to your worries. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to force Rachel to let me replace it. The last thing I want is to proceed without her permission, but I can’t let anything happen to her. So I understand your dilemma—I really do. Caring about someone who’s got a lot of damage is never an easy thing. But I’ve found it’s always worth it in the end to do what is necessary.”
Marcus swallowed hard and nodded as he stood. There was a tic in his jaw that wouldn’t go away. The last thing he wanted was to make Rachel angry with him again, but he had no choice. “We just finally got together. I can’t let anything happen to her now.”
Kyra nodded and rubbed his arm as he walked by her. She had a soft spot for all of Peyton’s men, but Marcus’s suffering had always tugged hardest on her heart. After Eric and Marcus left, she walked to her husband and folded herself into his arms, trying her best not to cry.
“That exchange with Marcus certainly explains why your day was so shitty,” Peyton said softly, rubbing her back.
Kyra sniffed against his chest and nodded. “Rachel is choosing to believe it’s only about speaking well or not speaking at all. She’s too innocent about cybernetics to understand getting a new processor is about saving her life too. I had to send Brad away from me twice today. Evelyn is not the only one constantly wishing he was dead.”
Peyton nodded and pulled his bloodthirsty wife closer. “How much is the new processor going to change her?”
Kyra closed her eyes. “More than she wants it to. That’s the problem.”
Chapter 8
Rachel slid the napkins beside the plates, and then placed silverware carefully on them. It was the first time she’d invited people to dinner since she moved into the Norton provided apartment. Well, not counting the few times she’d reluctantly fed Marcus. Thinking of him, she walked to her bedroom just in time to see him step out of the bathroom.
In the streaming light from her solar window, she could clearly see the writing on his prosthetic arm. Written in some fancy ancient script, it was still legible as a solitary promise to remain true to himself. Considering what Marcus had done to his body, including the sacrifice of an original arm and both legs, it was the height of irony that he’d chosen to place it where he couldn’t help seeing it every day.
His body had become a familiar landscape in the last week. She had no idea about the origins of his other tats, except for the design across his lower stomach, which partially hid a long jagged scar. That tat was pretty self-explanatory. The haunted look on his face when she’d asked about it last night had stopped her from pressing him too hard. But he’d told her anyway.
Hearing he’d been captured and tortured had temporarily driven desire from her. Kissing her way across the mark until Marcus had sighed out her name in gratitude had thankfully brought lust roaring back to life. She could barely tolerate thinking about her own emotional issues. Sharing Marcus’s pain was almost too much.
Walking over to him, she ran a hand down the front of him to grip the towel twisted at his waist. His gaze lit with a very masculine dare for her to act. The silent exchange made her smile. All the months she had spent talking to him mostly through body language had been unknowingly training them to be very attentive lovers to each other. Not to mention his sheer pleasure in pleasing her was the most wonderful thing she’d ever experienced in her life.
She yanked playfully on the towel. “Tempt…t…ting…but
“Okay. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
Kyra hung her head. “I’m sorry to add to your worries. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to force Rachel to let me replace it. The last thing I want is to proceed without her permission, but I can’t let anything happen to her. So I understand your dilemma—I really do. Caring about someone who’s got a lot of damage is never an easy thing. But I’ve found it’s always worth it in the end to do what is necessary.”
Marcus swallowed hard and nodded as he stood. There was a tic in his jaw that wouldn’t go away. The last thing he wanted was to make Rachel angry with him again, but he had no choice. “We just finally got together. I can’t let anything happen to her now.”
Kyra nodded and rubbed his arm as he walked by her. She had a soft spot for all of Peyton’s men, but Marcus’s suffering had always tugged hardest on her heart. After Eric and Marcus left, she walked to her husband and folded herself into his arms, trying her best not to cry.
“That exchange with Marcus certainly explains why your day was so shitty,” Peyton said softly, rubbing her back.
Kyra sniffed against his chest and nodded. “Rachel is choosing to believe it’s only about speaking well or not speaking at all. She’s too innocent about cybernetics to understand getting a new processor is about saving her life too. I had to send Brad away from me twice today. Evelyn is not the only one constantly wishing he was dead.”
Peyton nodded and pulled his bloodthirsty wife closer. “How much is the new processor going to change her?”
Kyra closed her eyes. “More than she wants it to. That’s the problem.”
Chapter 8
Rachel slid the napkins beside the plates, and then placed silverware carefully on them. It was the first time she’d invited people to dinner since she moved into the Norton provided apartment. Well, not counting the few times she’d reluctantly fed Marcus. Thinking of him, she walked to her bedroom just in time to see him step out of the bathroom.
In the streaming light from her solar window, she could clearly see the writing on his prosthetic arm. Written in some fancy ancient script, it was still legible as a solitary promise to remain true to himself. Considering what Marcus had done to his body, including the sacrifice of an original arm and both legs, it was the height of irony that he’d chosen to place it where he couldn’t help seeing it every day.
His body had become a familiar landscape in the last week. She had no idea about the origins of his other tats, except for the design across his lower stomach, which partially hid a long jagged scar. That tat was pretty self-explanatory. The haunted look on his face when she’d asked about it last night had stopped her from pressing him too hard. But he’d told her anyway.
Hearing he’d been captured and tortured had temporarily driven desire from her. Kissing her way across the mark until Marcus had sighed out her name in gratitude had thankfully brought lust roaring back to life. She could barely tolerate thinking about her own emotional issues. Sharing Marcus’s pain was almost too much.
Walking over to him, she ran a hand down the front of him to grip the towel twisted at his waist. His gaze lit with a very masculine dare for her to act. The silent exchange made her smile. All the months she had spent talking to him mostly through body language had been unknowingly training them to be very attentive lovers to each other. Not to mention his sheer pleasure in pleasing her was the most wonderful thing she’d ever experienced in her life.
She yanked playfully on the towel. “Tempt…t…ting…but
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