She blinks at me, that same vacuous expression on her face, and pulls off her boots. I watch as she touches the auto-fastener at her throat and continues to undress. When her suit is undone, she slips it off and stands in front of me, naked and alert…as if waiting for an order.
I hate that. I hate that so much.
“Do you want me to undress and get in the shower with you?”
“I want whatever you want.”
I bite back a growl. I want to kill whoever shoved this programming into her head. Whoever decided that Helen needed some sort of switch in her brain that would turn her into a ruthless assassin. It’s clear that she’s been far more tampered with than we expected. Gone is the sweet, naive Helen that’s my mate, and I don’t know how far she’s been buried underneath this cold exterior…or how to get her back.
All I can do is take care of her.
Undressing carefully, I watch Helen for any kind of reaction—good or bad. If she looks as if she’s going to panic, I’m going to put my clothes back on. If she reaches for me, I’ll be relieved…but now’s not the time.
Taking her hand again, I lead her under the spray. When she stands there, remote and uncaring, I bite back a growl of frustration and soap my hands up, washing her skin. “Talk to me, Helen.”
“What would you like to discuss?”
“Why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling?” I run a soapy hand over her arm. There are bruises and scrapes here, but for the most part, Helen is uninjured. That’s a relief, at least.
“I am fine.”
“You’re not fine. That much is obvious.” She stands perfectly still as I wash her, and when my soapy hands run over her breasts, she has no reaction. It just frustrates me more, because how can anyone want this in a companion? Yet this is exactly what I suspect she was cloned for. No one wanted her to have a personality, and that makes me even angrier.
This isn’t right, and when I have to maneuver her soaped-up body under the spray so she’ll rinse off, it just frustrates me more. I need to snap her out of this. “Helen, what if I touched you? Made you come? Would that make you feel better?”
She smiles up at me, but her eyes are still blank. “I would like that very much, my master.”
Ugh. Any erection I might have managed shrivels at the word “master.” “Maybe we’ll just talk instead.”
“Whatever you wish.”
“How do you feel right now?”
“I am fine.”
I squeeze shampoo into her hair and start lathering it. “You’re not sad, or relieved, or anything at all? Just ‘fine’?”
“I am pleased you are safe,” she says in that curiously vacant tone. “I have fulfilled my duty.”
“And what about the men on board that you killed? Do you feel anything there?”
“I am glad they did not harm you. As long as Mathiras is safe, nothing else matters.”
I swipe a blob of suds off her brow before it can drip into her eyes. “You killed quite a few people. I’m just worried about you. Like the clone guards? Was that necessary or was that because you were keeping me safe?”
Her breath hitches for a moment, the sound soft. She makes a low, wordless noise in her throat and then recovers. “I am fine.”
Turning her, I grip Helen by the arms and stare into her eyes. I’m getting somewhere. “Are you sure you’re fine? Because those guards were innocent, Helen. They were being forced to guard that place. Their minds didn’t belong to them. Remember all the clones we saw? The tubes? You didn’t like that. So don’t tell me that you’re fine when I know you’re not. Talk to me, Helen. Please.”
She blinks rapidly up at me, silent. She’s quiet for so long that I worry I still haven’t gotten through to her. That nothing is going to break this zombie state. Just when I’m about to give up, her pupils expand, growing larger, and then her mouth quivers. “I…I…”
“Yes?” I say, eager. “Spit it out, love.”
“I killed Ruth,” she cries out, and bursts into tears. “I k-killed a bad guy and it had Ruth’s face!”
“Oh, love,” I murmur, pulling her against me. I hold her close, shampoo getting everywhere as huge, gut-wrenching sobs tear from her throat. I maneuver us under the spray once more, wiping more suds off her face. “It wasn’t Ruth. It was just another clone and they were using her as a guard.”
“S-she had a helmet on and I couldn’t s-see her f-face,” Helen sobs against my chest, her delicate form shuddering against me. “I s-snapped her neck and when I t-took her helmet off, I saw my s-sister. And I felt so awful, worse than being in the ducts where it was tight and scary and I was so afraid, Matty.” The words come pouring out of her now, tearing at me. “I knew I had to save you so I just shoved it all down. I killed my sister, though. I c-can’t…I c-can’t…”