Page 35 of Dustwalker

He halted at the top of the stairs as a phrase flitted across his processors.

What the fuck?

Though Lara had never uttered that phrase in his presence, he could almost hear it in her voice, and it fit the situation perfectly.

For the first time in his remembrance, Ronin laughed. It was short, abrupt, similar to the sound most humans made after being punched in the gut, but it was alaugh.

Already at the end of the hallway, Lara paused at the entrance of her room, staring at Ronin with her jaw agape as he approached.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh at me!” She disappeared inside and slammed the door shut. It rattled in its frame, the vibrations running through the nearby walls, and Ronin registered displaced air flowing over his bare skin. Lara fumbled on the other side. After a muffled curse from her, the lock engaged with a click.

Ronin stood in place, optics focused on the door. There was no defusing the situation; it had already exploded. He didn’t desire an adversarial relationship with Lara. All he wanted, all he toldhimself he wanted, was to see her dance.

He couldn’t leave things like this.

He rapped on the door.

“Go. Away,” she snapped.

Moderating his tone to something gentle, he said, “Open the door.”

“No.”

She’d been right in thinking that doors, especially the relatively flimsy ones inside this house, weren’t obstacles to bots. But what would he accomplish by breaking in? He was not her jailer, was not her keeper. He’d offered her food, comfort, andsecurity.

“I’m sorry I upset you, Lara.”

Though his internal clock tracked every passing microsecond, time soon lost meaning. She didn’t answer. Once, he heard a faint rustle of cloth that might have been her moving, but it was gone too quickly to be sure.

After five minutes and thirty-three seconds, Ronin turned and walked to his room. He had equipment to care for—weapons to clean, tools to inspect, clothing to mend.

Perhaps some rest would cool Lara’s temper.

Or perhaps I need to be more mindful of what I say to her.

I’m sorry I upset you, Lara.

Speechless, with her anger having vanished, Lara stared at the door.

When she’d slammed it, she’d expected him to kick it in and teachher a lesson. Determined not to show her fear, she’d been ready to fight tooth and nail…

Ready to fight to the death.

But Ronin had asked her to open the door, and he’d apologized to her after she refused.

What the fuck?

Never in her twenty-three years had she heard of a bot apologizing to a human.

His footsteps retreated down the hall, and she heard his door open and close softly.

She’d entered this agreement with him assuming she knew all about bots and their nature. Accepting that, even if Ronin didn’t harm her, she’d be nothing more than a pet to him, a curiosity for his amusement. It was a small price to pay if it helped her find Tabitha.

But Ronin was different. He was unpredictable, surprisingly deep, even kind of funny in an infuriating way. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite figure him out.

Remorse tightened her chest. Though he was good at evading her questions, he hadn’t been lying. He didn’t understand what triggered her outburst. How could he? Even if he displayed signs of feeling emotion, he had nothing to be insecure about. He couldn’t know how insignificant his words had made her feel.

Do you really think I have anything in here that a bot can’t get elsewhere?