Artificial Mates - Chapter 24

My vocal cords vibrated to an alien scream gushing out of my mouth. What was happening? Those things on the floor couldn’t be parts of Grant. I shook my head in denial.

“Grant! Oh my god! Grant!” I crawled on all fours mindless of the metallic taste in my mouth. My trembling fingers grabbed hold of his leg and pulled myself to a seated position.

“It’s ok, Liliane, It’s ok,” his voice was calm and steady. He patted my head; white liquid dripped from his hand onto my cheek. Being able to touch him sent me in a vivid state where all colors drained out of the picture leaving only the bleak contours around charcoal outlines. Everything slowed down, sounds stretched to alien music.

“Oh, how charming,” laughed the grotesque cliché of an antagonist. I let out a burst of choked laughter. The situation was so scary it was funny.

“What, you’re pissed ’cause I refused you?” I pulled myself to my feet while holding on to Grant. The Jay guy instantly lost his smirk. “Tell me? What would this little show change?” I looked at him as I tilted my head to the side. Grant gave me a quick side-glance. The shock, the fear, the imminent death all mixed in a terrible c.o.c.ktail, moved me forward. I turned to Grant and for the first time, I saw the extensive damage he had to his left arm. There was a large gush from his elbow to his palm where three fingers were missing. Dark cables and wires hanging out—blackness seeping from his wound as white liquid dripped from it to the front of this shirt and down his pants. He lifted his free arm in front of me in a protective gesture. My heart squeezed inside my chest. Big droplets dropped from my eyes. I pushed my chin up facing my enemy.

“You’re nothing! You don’t even exist in my world. I don’t care and never will. So what, your fat ego was wounded. Go seek professional help, for god sake!” I shouted as more tears poured from my eyes. He groaned, his lips pulled from his teeth, eyes bulging out in fury.

“I’ll make it so you’ll never f.u.c.k.i.n.g forget. I will hurt you so bad! You will have to acknowledge my existence,” he rushed forward slashing the air in rage. The deadly blade swinging at us. Grant dodged his blows and shoved me to the side, away from danger.

“Run, Liliane!” he shouted at me. He successfully pushed the assailant against the wall. Giving me enough time to stay clear from the fight. The door came bursting out of its hinges giving Grant the opportunity to push the intruder against it, knocking the knife out of Jay Dawson’s hand. It went flying across the room. I gasped as the door toppled, hitting that leech on the head. Blood splashed over his face as he went crashing to the floor with the door on top of him. Dust hung in the air. A black shape hunched in the doorway.

“Grant!” it growled and rushed to him. Piercing blue eyes laid on me making me shiver. It had a vaguely human form blurry around the edges. I blinked trying to make out what it was.

“Shit!” it hissed. It rushed to me, I flinched as it grabbed me by the shoulder. “Liliane,” Demos’ handsome face pour out of the shadows, his body was still blurry. His voice and what was playing before my eyes seemed to not fit together. He shook me gently trying to snap me from my state.

“Please, Grant—he is hurt,” my voice came out completely flat. He paused to study me then nodded and went to Grant ignoring the guy groaning under the door. I was surprised he wasn’t dead. Grant was leaning against the wall pressing his arm against his chest. When Demos approached him, Grant let out a dry laugh and show him the injury. Demos squeezed his damaged hand, Grant wobbled on his feet, his gasped and gazed at the ceiling.

“Why the hell did you let that bastard hurt you this bad? Do you know how much it will cost for the repairs?” shouted Demos. Grant lowered his eyes pressing his forehead into Demos’ chest.

“That disgusting thing was touching Liliane,” Demos pulled away fuming, however, Grant grabbed his arm. “No, please don’t,” he shook his head. I slowly dragged my feet to join them.

“I’m going to f.u.c.k.i.n.g kill him!” he shouted through gritted teeth. His fierce blue eyes met mine, I held it. I felt eerily disconnected. “The police will be here in no time,” he returned to Grant. “I’ll get the trauma kit,” Demos rushed to his pod, pulled a hidden drawer from its base and retrieved a spray can. Then he went through the kitchen drawers, utensils crashed on the floor making me jump. He came back with duct tape and a towel.

“Hold this for me,” he dumped the items in my hands and guided Grant to a chair. The floor was soaked with the white liquid. He sprayed the can over the open wound then pressed the towel over it. All the while, I stared at Grant’s smiling face.

“Does it hurt?” I managed to say. Demos’ snatched the tape from me, tore it with his teeth and wrapped it around the wound. Grant tilted his face at me. His eyes were slowly turning to a dull grey.

“It’s ok, Liliane—it doesn’t hurt,” Demos glared at him. I got closer and he wrapped his free hand around my waist while pressing his forehead against my belly.

“Of course, it f.u.c.k.i.n.g hurts!” shouted Demos getting to his feet. “We just don’t experience pain the way humans do,” my fingers went instinctively in his brown curls. He grabbed tightly on the fabric of my blouse.

“I was scared,” whispered Grant against my side. “I’m sorry, Liliane,” Demos rushed to us and wrapped his arms around us. In their supportive warmth my emotions bubbled up in my throat, everything I held back rushed to submerge me.

“It was entirely my fault. I’m sorry for not trusting you enough. I’m—so so sorry. Please—forgive me, Grant,” I cried between breaths. Demos leaned against me placing a kiss on my forehead.

“You didn’t attack him. Please, don’t feel guilty,” he whispered against my ear. Quick footsteps in the entrance made us turned in alert. A dozen armed patrol agents swamped inside pointing guns in all directions.

“The intruder has been neutralized,” Demos tipped his chin towards the fallen door. They pulled the door away, scanned the culprit who snorted at them. Among the dozen agents, two stood out. A massive artificial towering over his other colleagues and the only human in the group. He moved towards us and flashing his ID card. On it, written in red ink was Inspector Najja Special opt.

“Thanks for the tip,” he said to Demos then his eyes fell on Grant’s arm wrapped in a towel. “How bad it is?” Grant lowered his head.

“It was a plasma blade. Internal damage. Lost cooling system. The left hand will need replacement,” assessed Grant in a cold voice. He didn’t let go of me and I was happy. I don’t think I would be able to face this without the two of them. The tall artificial pulled that stinking bastard up and handcuffed him. He laughed as if it was all a big joke.

“Jay Dawson you’re under arrest for assault, damage on a property,” Demos nodded at the artificial. “And attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent or everything you said will be held against you in legal court,” he struggled against the grip of the agent. He spat blood towards the other agents. Several of the cyborgs aimed their guns at him.

“F.u.c.k you! F.u.c.k.i.n.g garbage cans!” they pulled him out of the apartment as he kept yelling at the top of his voice. The inspector turned towards us.

“Temus is a Helios too,” he pointed to the tall massive artificial. “But he is a beta model. I’ve heard Sognare did a new upgraded Helios 4,” he nodded at Demos who slowly faced him. “If you’re interested,” he slid his bracelet and sent me his contact. I just stared at him in silence. I didn’t want to understand what it was all about. It was better not to get it.

“It will take time to process the case. If I were you I would sue him for moral damage,” his eyes rested on Grant. “And property damage,” with that, he went after the other agents through the busted door.

“Demos?” called Grant with a weak voice. He was pale and rapidly getting cold. “Switch me—off,” his arm slid off my waist. In one swift movement, Demos took him in his arms. His head tilted weakly to the side and body completely limp. His eyes were blurry, like dirty milk. They went to the pods.

“What’s happening?” I stood paralyzed with my heart hammering inside my chest. I had a bad feeling gripping my stomach.

“I have to switch him off so as not to damage his system. He lost too much of his fluids. Don’t worry he will still be himself. It won’t be permanent. His AI will switch to deep sleep,” said Demos without looking at me. He strapped Grant in, brushed a lock of hair away from his face. “Don’t worry. Just sleep and dream of us,” he murmured with a smile.

“I’ll—replay the kiss—” answered Grant with a fainting voice.

“Good choice,” Demos placed a kiss on his forehead and pressed the spot behind his ear. Grant’s eyes closed. I sunk in the chair Grant was on, my eyes followed the trail of blood mix with white liquid in the entrance then stopped on the severed fingers.

“What are we going to do now?” I let out a raspy breath.

“Contact Sognare. Grant needs urgent repairs—like really quick,” answered Demos.