Page 27 of Kiss of Fury

“We both came herewithsomebody,” he added.

Learning about each other had turned into a game.

“We arrived in a rickety, drafty wagon driven at breakneck speed by Gozar?” She assumed that’s how he’d gotten from the intake center to Haven.

He chuckled. “Yes. And neither one of us had encountered a horniger before.”

“I’ve seen them, I haven’tencounteredthem yet,” she said. “Does that still count?”

“Absolutely. And…we’re both from Earth.”

“We’re both human,” she said.

He hesitated. “There is that.”

“Among the few on Haven Ranch,” she added and stifled a yawn.

She didn’t think he’d heard, but then he said, “You’re tired. We both had a long day. Most likely tomorrow will be the same. We should get some sleep.”

She wished they could talk some more but recalled he’d hiked in from the range and was probably very tired. “Good night, Mike.”

“Good night, Verity.”

* * **

Fury listened to her breathing slow as she fell asleep. He had the wife he’d always dreamed of, and the unexpected bonus of a family, but lies tainted the dream.

He wasn’t thirty-two. He’d claimed to be because that’s how old she was. In fact, he was closer to the kid’s age than hers, having been birthed from the gestation tank as a mature adult ten years ago.

Age, race—the most basic, innocuous, noncontroversial personal facts—were among his darkest secrets. How many more falsehoods and misdirections would he have to tell to maintain his cover story? As Steel had said, one should not lie to one’s wife, not one you hoped would love you, who you could easily fall in love with, perhaps had done so the moment she stepped out of the conveyance.

A fierce protector, a loving mother, a nurse who healed people, Verity was pure and good. He was the opposite.

His explanation for seeking sanctuary, while technically true, was laughable. Shady practices? There was nothing morally gray about his soul; it was as black as a Refuge night.

He killed people. Murdering pedophiles, serial killers, and terrorists could be excused, but what aboutassassinating political adversaries, candidates and elected officials the members of the deep state did not wish to see in office? Solutions had taken out more than a few of those. He hadn’t personally murdered any politicians, but plenty of his other targets had been questionable. He usually, but not always, had received a dossier on the target to facilitate a clean execution. But did the files contain facts or disinformation? Were the individuals truly guilty of the accusations against them? There was no way to tell.

Cyborgs did not have consciences. They did not question orders.

Except he had questioned. Did that mean he had a conscience?

Highly unlikely. He just wanted out. He didn’t wish to kill anymore. He’d never enjoyed killing—he wasn’t a sociopath; he knew that about himself—but he’d done it because his creators had ordered him to. Which still made him a monster.

A monster who had married a beautiful, kindhearted, wonderful mother with an innocent young child. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of her nakedness replayed in his brain. Smooth, pearlescent skin. Generous breasts and hips. Her red hair wasn’t just on her head. She’d had no idea hecould see her in the dark. He’d ogled her shamelessly—and never said a word. His tumescence still hadn’t subsided.

Silence was the least of his deceptions. How peacefully she slept, so blissfully ignorant. His omissions were ten times worse than her failure to disclose she had a child.

A man with a conscience would tell her the truth. But he couldn’t until he could prove to her that he’d changed and presented no threat to them and would protect them with his life. Unless he could do that—she’d never accept him, and even then, the chances were slim. He had a better chance of taming a horniger.

Besides, he wasn’t even sure hehadchanged. He would never harm her or Brody—he’d kill himself first, but under the right set of circumstances, he wouldn’t hesitate to take a life again. Some people deserved to be dead.

Like the Dorns. He’d off them in an instant. And anyone else who tried to harm his family. The fact was, he could list quite a few individuals he believed should be dead.

He didn’t know how to find a way out of the morass. Perhaps all he could do was enjoy what he hadwhile he still had it. Maybe an idea would come to him. Maybe he’d never need to tell her the truth. Steel wouldn’t expose him. But what about Honoria? He’d talk to Steel. If those two held their silence, his secret would be safe.

He caressed Verity’s smooth cheek with a fingertip.My wife.Maybe things would work out. They had to. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if they didn’t.

Chapter Thirteen

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