Delta V Page 11

  Lindy stiffened. “We can’t risk the baby.”

  “She’s at risk until we end the threat,” Mach pointed out.

  Though she wanted to keep protesting, she looked to Delta.

  He stopped his pacing to stand beside her. “We can’t hatch her yet or disconnect the power source. We could try to bring the scavengers down elsewhere and hope they don’t track back to her.” He paused. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it.”

  “But you think this is the best way.” Lindy choked on the knowledge, wanting to spit instead. Best like sitting in the oncologist’s office, listening to treatment plan options and five-year survival rates. Amber-girl, I can’t do this again, can’t stand by and watch while some invasive force descends on someone I love. I can’t.

  But no one had asked her. Not Cosmo, not the scavengers, not love itself.

  Delta was asking.

  His gray eyes were steady, and the armor around her glimmered with a tiny bit of his strength.

  Apparently she would do this again.

  She let out a slow breath. “Do you have an extra rifle? I guess I’m an alien-rustler now.”

  ***

  The sky was paling in the east by the time they gathered a short distance from Cosmo’s cave, but down in the badlands maze of sandstone bluffs and gnarled pine trees, the cold darkness held fast. Lindy shivered even though she’d added a couple layers of flannel from Delta’s closet at the ranch.

  He climbed down from the outcroppings that made a ragged edge of teeth around the edge of the box canyon they’d chosen to make their last stand. It felt like they were standing at the bottom of some gigantic creature’s open mouth.

  Waiting for the jaws to close around them.

  “Lindy,” he said.

  “Don’t ask me to leave.”

  “I was going to ask if you want the shotgun or the carbine.”

  “I’m good with either.”

  A smile flicked across his lips. “So I’ve heard.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Carbine. Longer range, and I’d rather keep them far away from me.”

  He handed over the rifle. “You’re probably wishing I’d stayed far away too.”

  “I saw you flying on a dinosaur-dragon and I didn’t shoot you then.”

  He stared down at her, his gray eyes half-lidded. “So you’re saying I still have a chance.”

  Biting the inside of her bottom lip, she reached up to pluck a few pine needles from his copper-brown hair. He hadn’t replaced his hat, and he’d stripped down to just the sleek black armor she had under her own clothes. He didn’t look like her rancher neighbor anymore.

  Or maybe it was just that she knew too much now.

  “Let’s live through this first,” she murmured.

  He raised his hand to echo her caress. “I didn’t live until you.”

  She still didn’t understand all of Cosmo’s accusation about her “enslaving the Delta” but she’d pieced together enough of what it meant to be a cyborg soldier owned by some keyholder to figure out that Delta had pledged himself to her. In some ways, it was worse with him than the vulnerable child in the pyramid. He wanted her to pledge herself too, now, while she had years to come up with an adoption story for her new daughter. “When two mommies, one of whom has passed away, and an alien love each other very much…”

  But she couldn’t love Delta. It was impossible. He wasn’t human. She wasn’t ready.

  Love finds a way.

  She hadn’t asked to be found again. Pulling back, she let the rifle slant casually across her body as Mach and Cosmo joined them. From the sharp glint in Delta’s eye, she knew he knew she was running scared even if she’d refused to leave.

  Mach—also in all black—had the blaster over his shoulder. “When the timer we set drops the veil, the grid will pull back enough power for maybe one shot with the cannon,” he said. “Make it count.”

  Cosmo, who was manning the enormous gun they’d lugged up from the cavern, grunted. “Yeah, yeah. One shot. Even I can count that high.” He glanced at her. “The Delta warn you our rounds have more kick?”

  She nodded. “I can take it.”

  He huffed. “You take a lot that doesn’t belong to you.”

  She gave him a smile with too much teeth. “My great-grandmother Minerva was one of the first to explore these badlands. If you find any bodies here, some of them are likely her doing.”

  He sighed. “I would’ve liked this Minerva.”

  Mach lifted his head. “Zero hour.”

  As the cavern’s disguising veil dropped, though nothing visible happened—nothing visible to her eyes anyway—the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. “Are we sure the scavengers will catch the signal?”

  “We already know they’re looking,” Delta said. “Now they just have to find us.”

  “Go,” Mach said. “Make sure any bodies we leave behind are theirs.”

  Cosmo vanished into the tangle of willow and tamarisk that crowded the bottom of the box canyon. Mach started climbing toward the high point he’d assigned himself along the sandstone rim.

  Delta lingered. “The upgraded rifle rounds have more power than you’re used to, so set your stance. More than that, though, whatever you see will shake you—brace yourself for that too. Whoever or whatever comes off that ship means to take what they want, whether they have hands or claws or tentacles.”

  She gulped. “Tentacles.”

  “They broke transgalactic law coming here, and they are confident they can take an unknown number of shrouds. Do not hesitate to shoot when they are far away.”

  “Delta…”

  “I need to take my position.” In one long stride, his boots were up against hers and his mouth crashed down. No other part of them—armored and armed—touched, but the force of the kiss thundered through her.

  The searing heat warred with and won over the chill that had sunk in ever since Cosmo had appeared at her porch and warned her she’d been invaded by an alien. Had that been only hours ago? But…she couldn’t blame the Omega for the fear that had paralyzed her.

  Ever since Delta had forced her to realize she could fall again, that her heart would willingly, freely, recklessly choose to break again given a chance, she’d pulled back behind her defenses. In some weird way—weirder than tentacles—it had been a relief to discover he was an alien. Then she had an excuse to flee him.

  Except here she was, standing beside him. Well, in front of him, her lips locked to his with a passionate hunger that would’ve been wrong in her teens, cute in her twenties, desperate in her thirties, impressive in her forties, and now—well, shit. If ever there’d been a time to go for what she wanted, this was it. Maybe she should thank these scavengers instead of shooting them.

  Angling the rifle safely away, she wrapped one hand around the back of Delta’s neck, holding him fast. He did the same, knocking her hat to the ground, then slanted his lips across hers hard, deepening the kiss.

  For one heartbeat, the kiss was all things in the universe: wrong, cute, desperate, impressive—even a touch of tongue-tentacle titillation—and so, so right.

  And over too fast.

  He stepped back, breaking all contact. But his eyes burned, not the silver of rampaging nanites, or even the brilliance of the rising sun, just him looking at her.

  Everything in her melted like iron at the blacksmith’s—and reflowed into a new shape, bolstered, a shot of carbon strengthening to steel. Maybe she’d never been in a shoot-out with aliens, but great-grandmother Minerva had come to this wild country to make a home for herself and her descendants. Lindy would defend it to do the same for Amber’s daughter.

  She gave Delta one last look. “You say you belong to me now, somehow. You’re going to have to tell me what that means. But I don’t want a slave, and I never even really asked for help besides a few ranch hands. All I need is someone who can take me as I am, no secrets, come what may.”

  “I know you’ve been hurt before, Miz Lind
y, and I can’t promise I won’t die in the next few minutes. But I want you to know, being with you this week has made the last hundred and fifty years of emptiness worth every moment.”

  “Hundred and fifty years?” she sputtered.

  He flashed a grin at her, the same one that had made her fall into his bed. “Gotta go,” he said with a saucy wink.

  “I’ll shoot you myself,” she muttered as she turned and started climbing the opposite wall of the canyon from where Mach had positioned himself.

  Hunkering into position behind her sandstone outcropping, reinforced with a plate of the same black armor she and the others were wearing, she turned to face down canyon just as Delta surged above the trees.

  The yurk pumped its wings—once, twice, three times—and banked into a hard turn before shooting toward the mouth of the canyon. The first rays of the sun caught on the scarlet edges of the yurk’s scales so the beast seemed to burst into flame. Delta’s imposing form was as small as a thoroughbred jockey, tucked against the modified Western saddle and harness, but his coppery hair glinted in the light with the same fire.

  Lindy sucked in a breath of wonder and awe. They were beautiful. How could her old, jaded, earthbound self think to hold on to that?

  Swallowing past the lump of longing in her throat, she forced her gaze to scan ahead of him. Seeing him up there, she had no doubt the scavengers would soon be in pursuit. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that?

  Or all of it, actually, if they could own it, make it theirs forever.

  She glanced across the canyon where she knew Mach was hiding, though she couldn’t see him. She understood why they’d chosen Delta as their bait. The scavengers had a sensor reading on his nanites, even if the little robots had by now self-destructed without him. And for all his size, he was still the smallest and lightest of the CWBOIs and would be the least strain on the half-grown yurk. Plus, he hadn’t regenerated all his strength, not after he’d given so much of it to her. And still she resented that he was risking himself.

  She’d barely survived losing Amber—could she survive losing him? Or had she become too much like his nanites, needing him to survive?

  But she had a daughter now. She shook out her hands and settled her grasp on the rifle again with renewed steadiness. Whatever happened—even death—she’d keep loving, no matter the risks.

  Kind of embarrassing maybe that it had taken a half-machine alien to teach her that, but she was an old dog after all.

  When the yurk reappeared, arcing straight as an arrow up the canyon, skimming the treetops, Lindy set the rifle to her shoulder, sighting down canyon. The low rumble echoing between the sandstone teeth could’ve been her hammering heartbeats. But whatever showed up, she’d shoot.

  With a sudden roar, zinging past the cliff, three alien vehicles were in close pursuit of the yurk. The one in front looked like a cross between a huge Harley and an open-top humvee. Except it was a flying harleyvee. The two behind were similar but sleeker, and they had a net strung between them—obviously intending to scoop the yurk and Delta right out of the air. Didn’t want to damage the merch.

  Breathing out a careful lungful, Lindy pinned a bead on the lead alien. It was humanoid shaped, although with a third pair of limbs halfway down its jointed body. It was using one of the middle limbs as an arm, one as a leg. And it was covered in white and blue plates that could’ve been chiton or armor.

  The vehicles were fast, and though she knew the range on the rifle would be longer than her trusty Remington, she didn’t want to reveal their defensive positions until she was sure she had a shot. She forced herself to breathe in and out again, until she could read some sort of script on the front shield of the alien harleyvee.

  Compensating for the speed and wind and her nerves, she squeezed off a shot.

  The kick knocked her back into the rock wall. Shit! If she’d been a step to the side without the wall, she would’ve tossed herself right off the cliff.

  The shot—aimed at the alien’s face—ricocheted off what seemed to be the stabilizer instead. Engine keening, the harleyvee jolted, forcing the two vehicles behind to swerve closer together to avoid catching their leader. He/it should’ve gotten out of the way, but it veered back across their line, shouldering for that lead spot. Lindy recognized a blowhard when she saw one, of any species. Their advancing trio slowed as the harleyvee jostled all of them toward the rough rock of the canyon wall.

  Right into Mach’s line of fire.

  He opened up with the blaster, and the fierce orange beam speared across the sunlight and shadows in the canyon, right into the lead scavenger. Lindy had been told that the weapon’s power could be dialed in for either lethality or length of use, and unlike the scavengers, her side didn’t have the luxury of immediate and unlimited recharging, but the blast looked damaging enough to her.

  Disappointingly though, instead of exploding, the harleyvee only jolted again. Its armor was too hefty for their old, rigged weaponry.

  But to avoid the harleyvee, the other two vehicles had to scatter. The lead alien targeted Mach’s hiding spot with a spray of that orange light, wider and more diffuse—a weaker pulse designed to disable not destroy technology. She knew it would only annoy a shroud and of course would have no effect on her. But it would deactivate the blaster.

  When there was no second shot from Mach, the harleyvee swerved closer to the wall. One of the smaller vehicles—she counted three aliens aboard: one at the helm and two in the back of the sled—started reeling in the net, angling it vertically, obviously hoping to catch Mach against the rock.

  Delta had swung the yurk back around, and they hurtled back down the canyon. The yurk screamed, a primal noise piercing over the sound of the alien engines, as she dodged at the net-bearing sled. They tried to launch the sparking metallic filaments toward her, but she looped away, as if the crowd of vehicles, scrub, and sandstone were nothing to her. Delta clung easily between her wings, flattened low to her back. He guided the yurk in a dive past the net sled, and she lashed out with her shining silver claws. One raking blow sent more sparks flying from the sled, and the pilot hastily swung aside.

  In their distraction, the third sled drifted backward out of the yurk’s way. And into Lindy’s reach. She fired again.

  Ready for the kick this time, and conscious of the heavy shielding, she followed up with more rounds. This was not the time or place to be judicious.

  Instead of gunning for the four blue-plated aliens, she aimed at a joint in the underbelly of the sled. The first shot missed—damn, that kick really was bad—but the other handful slammed into the joint. The alien tech-enhanced hollow point construction bloomed with each punch, and with a shriek of tearing metal even louder than the yurk, the sled spun out of control, dropping fast.

  The straining engine roared as it chewed through the willow and tamarisk scrub. The sled brushed the ground at a sharp angle as the pilot tried to correct for the damaged stabilizer.

  A strange gulping noise came from the ground—sloshed by the force of the engine’s output—as it liquified and washed toward the intake. With a horrified gasp, the engine sucked in the quicksand and died.

  There was a reason even great-grandmother Minerva stayed out of the badlands and no bodies were ever found.

  Apparently being not well versed in Western lore, the aliens abandoned their little sinking ship—and were instantly entrapped themselves. Their plated bodies seemed semi-buoyant, but they couldn’t extricate themselves from the sucking morass of quicksand.

  Lindy would’ve cheered, except the net sled had ditched its pursuit of Mach and the yurk, and the three aliens aboard turned their attention to her.

  Aaaaaand she was pretty sure she’d burned through her ammo. Dammit, why hadn’t she been counting?

  It would be kind of ridiculous if the invaders thought she was a deadly cyborg commando.

  She fumbled to reload, the unfamiliar rounds heavy and strangely slippery in her hands. Or maybe she was sweating.


  The alien at the helm of the net sled wasn’t like the others—six-limbed and blue-plated. This one was tall and sinewy, with a headful of fine, pink hair waving wildly although there was no wind… Ugh, tentacles? Pinkie swung the sled past Lindy, staring at her through bulbous, pale pink eyes the size of grapefruits.

  Just a few more shells to load—

  One of the other aliens fired a blaster at her. Straight on, the orange light was blinding.

  Chunks of rock blew in every direction, and with an inadvertent yelp, she ducked behind the black armor backing her jut of sandstone. The armor held, thank God and little green aliens.

  She slid the last round home and, before she could chicken out, spun around the edge of the armor to fire two shots—yeah, she was counting now—at the sled.

  Off balance and scared as she was, the recoil kicked even harder this time, and the first shot only pinged off the front screen while the second shot went astray. Her shoulder ached from the deep bruising, and though the alien rounds were quieter than her own, her head buzzed.

  When she ducked back, a shadow passed overhead, and she cringed.

  A defiant scream brought her upright again. The yurk!

  As she peeked out, Delta zoomed past, still crouched low, but to Lindy’s eye the yurk seemed to be struggling more. Her wing beats were labored, pulling up each stroke right before full extension as if she were getting tired, like a young horse out on the range a little too long, working cows that were older and sneakier. Delta must’ve felt it too, because he kept the yurk toward the center of the canyon, away from the walls where she’d have to navigate more closely.

  But that left Lindy separated from him with the net sled aliens between them. She had six rounds left and the pistol in her pocket with Earther standard ammunition. Damn, since when did she regret only Earther things?

  Hovering closer to the cliff wall than the yurk could negotiate, the net sled turned broadside to Lindy. On the far end of the sled, the two blue-plated aliens were angling the net outward, readying a shot at the yurk and Delta. But Lindy couldn’t focus on that, not when Pinkie was swiveling the sled gun to aim right at her. The sandstone outcropping had taken a beating in the last blast, and at the high-pitched whine pealing out from the sled, she had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a disabling blast.