Cyborg Nation by Kaitlyn O'Connor (english readers TXT) 📗

She frowned, too tired to argue with him. “Afraid for you,” she mumbled.

He stopped, staring down at her face for a long moment before he began walking again. She wanted to ask him if he was hurt, or if Gabriel or Jerico had been hurt, but she yielded to unconsciousness instead.

As welcome as it was, it didn’t last. It was full dark when she became aware again and she thought for a little while that she was still blinded by semi-consciousness until she noticed the stars. They were still moving. The roaring sound in her ears was the ocean crashing upon the beach.

Beneath that sound, though, she could detect the steady, comforting beat of Gideon’s heart. He must have noticed she’d roused. “It is not much further.”

She nodded, then recalled her last thought before she’d passed out. “Are you hurt?”

“The blood is not mine.”

Bronte frowned but supposed that was an answer. “Are Gabriel and Jerico alright?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Yes.”

“They’re hurt,” she said, instantly noticing the lapse.

“They are wounded, yes, but they are alright.”

She tipped her head, trying to see them. All she could make out, however, was a deeper shadow among the shadows. Gideon slowed and finally stopped.

“What is it?” Jerico asked in a near whisper.

“Bronte wants to know if you are alright.”

There was silence for several moments.

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Gabriel, tell her you are alright.”

“It is no more than a flesh wound. I have had far worse.”

Gideon ground his teeth. “But you are alright,” he prompted.

“Yes. It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch....”

“Shut up, Gabriel!” Gideon hissed, beginning to move again.

Bronte smiled against Gideon’s chest in spite of her abject misery and her certainty that all three of them were wounded and trying to hide it from her. They were walking, she reasoned, and still able to annoy Gideon. That must mean they weren’t hurt too badly.

They left the beach a few minutes later, climbing over rocks Bronte thought, when she noticed what looked like a wall rising up from the beach, though she could still see very little and wondered how they could see to move over the rocks. The sound of crashing waves grew near deafening. Sprinkles of water pelted her, raining harder and harder down on her for a time, until the blanket around her was soaked, and then they passed through some sort of opening that dulled the roar of the ocean.

Relief flooded her when Gideon finally settled her on a smooth surface. Almost immediately much of the pain began to dissipate, the pressure on her leg easing now that she could finally settle it on a flat, unmoving surface. It was cool within the cavern, though, made cooler still by the nearly constant wind that gusted into the mouth of the cave and the wet blanket around her.

“Try to keep her warm, Gabriel, while Jerico and I find wood for fire.”

Gabriel settled beside her and shifted close enough to share his warmth. She wanted, desperately, to roll onto her side and cuddle closer, to pull more of his warmth into her, but she couldn’t find the energy or the courage to face the increase in pain she knew that would cause her. Instead, she lay as still as she could hoping she would cease to hurt so much once she’d gotten warm and lain still long enough for the discomfort of being carried so long to ease off.

Gideon must be in agony from having carried her, she thought dully. He hadn’t asked either of the others to carry her, though. She wondered if it was just a high tolerance for pain, an ability to simply block it out, or if he’d just endured because he thought it might hurt her more to shift her to someone else.

Or maybe, in spite of what he’d said, Jerico and Gabriel were both hurt too much to carry her?

She twisted her head at that thought, trying to peer at Gabriel in the gloom. She couldn’t see any more than a faint gleam along his skin as it caught the little light that filtered inside the cavern, but she thought he was looking at her. “How is your wound?”

“It has closed.” His hand brushed her face. “You are warmer?”

She was shivering. “Y-yes,” she lied through chattering teeth.

He let out a sound of impatience. “Gideon and Jerico will be back soon. It will be safe enough to build a fire in here. The light can not be seen except from the sea—and the wind will carry the smoke away.”

“And the waves will wash away your footsteps along the beach,” Bronte added.

He stroked his hand along her cheek again and then shifted, very carefully covering her upper body with his and supporting himself on his elbows. “Better?”

Bronte sighed as his warmth filtered through her. His body blocking the bursts of air through the cave mouth would almost have been enough even without his warmth but that was very welcome. She wanted to crawl under him. “Yes, much. It can’t be very comfortable for you, though.”

She felt his lips curl against her cheek as he dipped his head to rest it lightly against her face. “I am comfortable … except....”

“Except?” she prompted.

“This does not feel at all the same as the times when Gideon and Jerico and I have had to share body heat.”

The comment surprised a snicker out of Bronte. “I should hope not!”

She felt him smile against her skin again.

“You think that I am trying to be humorous?”

“Succeeding.”

“Mayhap, but I did not mean it as you think.”

She turned her face to nuzzle it in the crook of his neck, enjoying the contact as well as his scent. “How did you mean it?”

He was silent for so long she’d begun to think he wouldn’t answer. “I am not at all certain,” he said finally. “It is different, that is all I know.”

“How does it make you feel?” she asked quietly.

“Good,” he said promptly. “Not as good as when we are fucking, but very good.”

It hurt to