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superior in just about every way to humans. And if it was true that the cyborgs had evolved into awareness, and she had a hard time disputing that, then everything that had been done to them, up to and including putting a price on their heads because they had ‘gotten out of hand’, created a mountain of reasons for them to hate humans.

By rights, that should have been directed at their tormenters, not the entire human race, but she knew they were all being tarred with the same brush because, whether they’d actually had a hand in it or not, most of them would feel the same way and react the same way. The cyborgs had become a threat, and humans, by their nature, dealt with threats by trying to wipe it out.

* * * *

Gideon hadn't made it halfway across mid-ship where Gabriel and Jerico were working on putting the galley area back together when Gabriel happened to glance in his direction and stiffened. Distracted as he was by his exchange with Bronte, Gideon knew instantly what had caught his attention—the scratches across his chest. Anger surged through him. He was the senior officer on board. He did not answer to either Gabriel or Jerico and even if not for his rank, he would not.

He stopped, meeting Gabriel’s challenging glare with a challenge of his own.

“She scratched you,” Gabriel ground out.

“She did,” Gideon responded coldly.

Jerico came upright and turned to stare at him, as well. “Why?” he demanded, anger threading his voice.

Gideon slid an annoyed glance in Jerico’s direction. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned almost casually against the wall. “If it concerned you I might consider answering—despite the fact that I am senior officer here and do not consider it any part of my duty to answer to my subordinates.”

“This has nothing to do with rank, military matters—or orders—and you damned well know it.”

Gideon glanced at Gabriel. “It was not I who displayed a complete lack of self-discipline and sent her into hiding,” he said pointedly. He examined his fingernails with apparent interest. “If the point you were trying to get across to her was that you were warriors capable of protecting her, you failed lamentably. If, however, you thought it wise to make it abundantly clear that you are little better than undisciplined savages, then you should applaud yourselves. That display was very convincing.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. He slid a fulminating glare at Jerico. “It was not I, either,” he snarled.

Jerico reddened. “You frightened her and you made her cry. How you can figure that you did not start it is beyond me!”

An expression of discomfort crossed Gabriel’s features. “I am supposed to know these things will upset her before I open my mouth?” he growled. “I have not seen that telling her nothing at all reassures her. Nor, might I add, did your pretty speech seem to make her feel less threatened! And I would like to know how it is that you have come to see yourself as her champion! You claimed no interest in her yourself. You claimed that you were courting Rose!”

“I do not have a mate,” Jerico snarled. “It makes no difference if I was courting Rose before we left. She will have decided in this time to take another!”

“She is human—not cyborg.”

Effectively silenced, Jerico and Gabriel both turned to stare at Gideon at that.

“Even if you could get offspring on her, and you do not know that you can, then it would most likely be human, not cyborg.”

“You do not know that,” Gabriel said finally.

Gideon shrugged. “You will have to consider it, however. We are part human ourselves. A human and a half-human will likely produce a human … assuming, as I said, you were able to produce at all.”

Jerico frowned, but thoughtfully. “We do not know, either way, that we will have off-spring of our own. I want a woman … even if I can not have a family.”

“A woman?”

Jerico reddened at Gideon’s question. “Bronte.”

“You are more clumsy even than I at this courting business. You have already cut your throat with your tongue. You might as well slash your wrists, as well—You and Gabriel.”

Gabriel gave him an indignant look. “How do you figure that?”

Gideon favored him with a satisfied smile. “If you had not had your mind on your cock, you would have noticed the same as I that Bronte’s reaction was not because of what you said when we were dining together. She heard what you said earlier.”

Jerico stared at him a long moment and looked a little ill. “When we were talking before?”

Gideon nodded, pushing away from the wall.

“She told you that?” Gabriel demanded.

“She did not have to. I knew she was listening at the door.”

Gabriel glared him resentfully, but he was trying to recall exactly what it was that he had said.

“How?” Jerico demanded.

“Because I would have—we are her enemies the same as she is ours. She is probably listening now.”

Gabriel and Jerico both turned to stare at the closed door of the cabin as Gideon strode past them to the bridge. After a moment, they exchanged a speaking glance and followed him.

“That was a damned low down trick!” Gabriel snarled.

“I thought it was clever myself,” Gideon responded goadingly.

Gabriel’s hands balled into fists.

Gideon eyed them with raised brows. “You will have to learn to control your brutal tendencies if you expect to have any chance of courting Bronte. I admit I do not have the finesse the Hunters can claim, but I am very good at observing, and I did not get the sense that Bronte was favorably impressed with your display earlier.”

Grinding his teeth, Gabriel unclenched his fists with an effort. “You are plotting something,” he said finally.

Gideon shrugged. “I was only thinking that, if I must share her—and I do not mind telling you that I would rather not—you and I and Jerico have been comrades in arms through many battles on many worlds. There is no one I would rather have at

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