“You silly man,” Veila coos, placing a hand on my cheek.
Again, my body betrays me. My cocks jump, heat fills my muscles, and Veila glows white light.
“No,” I say.
But that piece, that missing fucking piece I was so desperate to find a few minutes ago, is there. Fitting into place.
“Our bodies were made for each other,” Veila says. “And there’s nothing you can do about that. Delphi and I come from the same stock. So maybe you did feel something for her. That was simply her similar genetics mixing you all up. She is not your one, Jimmy. But good news. If she ever makes it back here I have her man waiting. They’ll make beautiful babies together, trust me.”
I open my mouth to make yet another futile denial, but then another alarm sounds on the screen. We both turn to look at it and find the same borg face staring back at us.
“What now?” Veila growls.
“We’ve had a breach. Someone has killed four worker borgs on the outside of the station, one airlock guard, and…”
“And what?” Veila snaps.
“… and killed all the sexbots in the lower-level cells, my queen.”
“Who? Who the fuck is on my station messing with my breeding program?”
“Delphi, your highness. It’s Delphi.”
Veila turns her head slowly. Locks eyes with mine.
I don’t want to smile. I don’t want to piss her off and make her react.
But I can’t help it.
I take it one step further. Because it’s my turn to laugh.
I don’t know Veila. I don’t really have any experience with her to make this determination—but this laugh was the wrong move. This laugh—which felt good for a moment because Delphi somehow made her way to this station and is now playing offense—makes Veila rage inside.
And I regret my misplaced glory immediately. Even before Veila whispers, “Bring Delphi to me,” as she locks her eyes with mine. “I have some very special plans for my sweet little niece.” Then she winks at me and says, “And bring her mate too. Jimmy says he wants to watch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO – DELPHI
The alarms don’t start until I’m already in the slave-cell control room. I killed the borg manning it as he was opening the door to come attack me. The suit reacted automatically because he was aiming his plasma rifle at my chest, so I can’t really take credit.
Inside the control room there are dozens of smaller monitors, each one surveilling a single cell. But there’s also a central hub with a split screen of all of them in one frame. This is where I find the master switch to release all the magnetic bindings for the boys and deactivate the locks on the cage doors.
Because these rooms don’t even deserve to be called cells. They are cages and to Veila, these boys are nothing but animals in some sick, twisted science experiment.
When I walk back out into the aisle, most of the boys are on the floor. Slumped over and weak after being held upright on the wall for sun only knows how long.
But a few of them are still strong. Still able to stand, and walk, and maybe even run.
“Run,” I tell them. “Take a weapon and run. Find some clothes, hide, and just wait. I have more to do before we can think about leaving.”
One boy locks eyes with me and takes a step forward.
“No,” I say. “You can’t stay with me. Just go.”
He says, “Delphi?”
I squint my eyes at him. “Do I know you?”
He nods yes and shakes his head no at the same time. And for a second I think he’s just confused. He’s been here too long or maybe he’s drugged.
I get a weird feeling inside. Like… a chill runs up my spine and my muscles start to get all hot. I shake it off. Literally shake it off and make the exoskeleton rattle with the movement.
I have an urge to look at his body. Not just look at his body the way I glanced over the others, but look at his body. His cocks—which were semi-hard just a moment ago—have engorged with blood and now stand erect.
“Delphi,” he says again.
“No,” I say. “Just go, just run, just… get the fuck away from me.”
“I can’t,” he says. “I can’t.”
Everything starts to make sense. All the excuses for why I didn’t get that feeling with Jimmy when we were together back on Might Minions become just that—excuses.
Because this heat, this weakness, this chill of recognition is the only true feeling I’ve ever felt.
Immediate, one hundred percent attraction. Instantaneous longing.
“No,” I say again. “It’s not you. It can’t be you.”
He takes a step forward and I raise my weaponized arm and point at him. But the moment I do that this uncontrollable wave of heartache fills me up and prevents me from pressing a button.
He stops, hands up like he’s surrendering. “It is me. It’s me,” he says again. “You can’t hurt me. It won’t allow you to. If you hurt me, you will only hurt yourself.”