Page 4 of Jump or Fall
The numbers were easy. Mara needed to go over the synth-minds, something useful. It was a major breakthrough—a technology that could be programmed into the suits to make up for delayed reaction time. She had spent over a year developing it with data gathered from the current suits and security feeds from around the city.
She let herself disappear into the details, clinging to the calculations and possibilities.
A rhythmic sensation interrupted her focus on the sample she needed to test on her desk.
Reconnect.
She forced her eyes open. It was his finger tapping her cheek.
Dawson pulled her back up by her bruised wrist and kissed her. His teeth scraped across her bottom lip as his tongue darted into her mouth.
Unease trickled down her spine. Usually, that was all he wanted from her at work.
He unbuttoned her blouse with surprising precision, then slid it from her shoulders. The garment fell to the floor as he rotated her to face away from him.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep making me do this,” he said with a quiet tsk.
His thumb pressed against the birth control implant in her arm to confirm its presence. Then, with the tip of a claw, he traced the dozens of horizontal scars across her back.
Stripes. Punishment doled out by the Silvers for everything from annoying one, to petty crimes and serious offenses. Starting from the upperback, the cuts descended as more were added. If there wasn’t much space left, or the Silver was feeling generous, they’d cut the back of the arm. The rich usually had the option to pay a bribe in lieu of a stripe.
But not Mara. No amount of money could keep Dawson’s claws away from her.
“Where shall we put the next one, doll?” His lips brushed against her neck. The smell of him thick in the air around her.
Silence was always the smartest option.
She locked onto the wall of helmets, settling on her favorite creation—the God’s Eye. A triquetra symbol on the front framed a single lens embedded where the arcs met at the center, positioned like a third eye. The eye was filled with advanced sensory tech and designed to integrate the predictive synth-minds, making it possible to act before the target even moved. The ability to see the enemy’s actions before they happened could be the difference between life and death.
Dawson eased his hand around her throat and pulled her against his hard chest.
Count the helmets.
“This time,” he murmured against her ear, “give me a little fight. Seeing the old Mara brought back fond memories.”
She reached up and clawed at his grip as his fingers tightened.
She fought for air, nails digging into his hand. Stars formed in her vision.
Count the helmets.
One. Two. Three.
Disconnect.
***
Sluggish thoughts and sensations.
Toes.Feet. Legs.
Fingers. Hands. Arms.
Reconnect.
Nose. Mouth. Face.
It was taking longer than normal.
