The dummies’ noses never exploded in a spray of red, but Alesa’s did. He yelped in pain. It was one of the more satisfying sounds Col had ever heard in his life.
Alesa let go of Col, and the bots took hold of him.
“Coldis! You little—”
One of the bots twisted Alesa’s arm, making him scream.
Col decided to ignore him, although he stayed to watch him being dragged away like a sack of seeds. He went limp halfway through, the drugs in his collar kicking in.
When the captive entrance shut, Col hit the door lock to the observation room.
Hyran was standing there, his body blocking the door, arms raised and hands white-knuckling the frame. The Guardian was ash gray in the face and sweating.
“Col,” he croaked.
Hyran only relaxed when Col leaned in and hugged his Guardian.
23
HYRAN
Hyran let out a shuddering breath and let go from where his hands clawed at the doorframe.
“Col. Let go. Let me check your hand. We should head to the clinic right away.”
He brushed Col’s hair.So soft. He’s so fucking soft.
“My hand is fine.” Col tilted his head up, the silky strands of hair running all over Hyran’s fingers.
“Come on, let me see. You just punched that Hound-fucker in the face.”
Hyran stepped back and lifted Col’s hand, mindful that fractures could happen, or cuts. Back in the interview room, a small cleaning bot ran over the floor, wiping away the blood.
“You see? I’m fine.”
And Col was. The few droplets on his knuckles weren’t his own, and nothing looked swollen.
“Maybe just a scan, to be safe.”
“Hyran. I’m fine. It would hurt if it weren’t.”
“I don’t like that it doesn’t hurt at all. I take it you don’t usually hit people in the face.”
“Most people don’t behave like Alesa fucking Yun just did.”
Hyran nodded. “You broke his nose, I think. And you actually had to defend yourself against him before this?”
“Yes. But as I said—as you saw—I can handle Alesa. Come on, I want to wash the blood off. Then we’ll talk to the Op-AI. You heard what he said, or were you too focused with keeping yourself from rushing in there?”
Hyran frowned as Col headed toward the exit. “Yes. The way he talks—about you in particular, but about Conduits in general. Hound-fucker. What was that thing he said, at the beginning? What does he want to be?”
“The king thing? And queens and concubines? To be honest, I’m not exactly sure. Bathrooms?” he asked a security bot outside the observation room.
“I will show you, Conduit. Are you all right, or should we arrange for transport to first aid facilities? The closest one is on this side of the Grounds.”
“I’m fine. Water and soap will do but thank you.”
The bot blinked a sharp series of lights. “Of course, Conduit.”