Page 16 of Furi

She turned to look at him. “You don’t get a choice. This is my home. Not yours.”

“The Empire…”

“Fuck the Empire. They have no sway here. 4 I’m done here.” Getting up she put the fork down. “Thank you for dinner.” And walked to Emily.

“Go up Betty, I’ve got her.” 16 told her.

“We’ll do the feeds through the night.” 38 told her.

“Thank you. Good night.”

“I have my duty to do. I need to interview you.” Was said from behind her. She hadn’t heard him move at all.

Just like her men…

Ignoring it she gave him the finger and climbed the stairs.

Washing the day away, wrapping a towel around her she walked into her room and found her unwanted guest sitting in a chair. “For Gods sake. I’m too tired for this.”

“Sit, your hair is wet, you cannot sleep with it like that. You’ll be ill.”

Warily she sat at the desk watching him. “They let you up here?”

He slowly got up like he was deliberately trying not to scare her. Crossing the room coming to her back. “They didn’t have a choice. There would have been blood on the floor, and they know you wouldn’t like that.”

She chortled. “Are you trying for humour?”

“I’m a funny guy when I want to be.” She raised a questioning eyebrow at him doubting that and he smirked. Pulling the towel from her hair he started to dry it.

“You’re a little different to my men.”

“Different experiences. I spent a lot of time with humans before I was free. I’m a tracker.”

He rubbed her hair dry then started to brush it. Soothing gentle strokes. His hand following the brush hot on her head. Relaxing into it wasn’t hard. “I interviewed your men.”

“Let me guess, they told you I’m a bitch and lord it over them.”

He huffed still brushing her hair. The strokes going from mechanical to something more sensuous. His hands hot in her hair drying it, brushing down the tendrils to her skin. Massaging the muscle in her neck and shoulders, it was soothing and delicious. This was going passed just seeing to her hair so she could sleep.

“We both know that is not true. They speak of you in kindness. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Opening her eyes, she looked up at him in the mirror behind her. Suddenly he didn’t seem anything like the man she’d first seen. He looked, thoughtful. “So am I.”

Putting the brush down next to her he stood back. Then retook his seat across the room. “Tell me your story. I have theirs; I need to hear yours.”

Strangely sitting there, leaning forward on his knees he didn’t look as menacing as he had the night before. Covered in ink, she guessed each one was a story. His head bald, and more ink. But she wasn’t scared of this man. And started to talk.

It was a recollection of the stories her father and mother had told her and her own experiences from the moment she could remember.

She spoke of her childhood. Working with the Cyborgs who were like family to them. And how they’d come to their rescue time and time again. How much they owed them.

“And the male 4?” His voice suddenly sounding angry.

“He is very special to me. We are the closest. But I’m close to all of them. They were my playmates growing up and my help now.”

“4 considers his mate is here. He will not leave her.”

She smiled. “No he won't. He doesn’t know it, is unable to recognise it but there is love here. I know it.”

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