Page 59 of Dustwalker

She backed away from the table.

When Ronin moved, it was fast. His chair fell backward as he stood, and with an almost casual sweep of his arm, he batted the table away, knocking it onto its side with a crash. The gap between them shrank with his relentless advance.

Warlord’s scarred face flashed in her mind. This was close to the way he’d moved that night.

Lara’s heart stuttered. She scurried around the counter, desperate to put something solid between them. For a terrifying moment, she was convinced he’d smash his way straight through it. She turned away, dropped into a crouch, and raised her arms over her head to shield herself from the coming punishment.

Hadn’t she learned anything? Why couldn’t she just shut her mouth and dance? It didn’t matter if he enjoyed it. As long as he fed her, why should she care?

“Does a thing have to be flesh and blood to be alive?” Ronin demanded, voice low and brimming with anger. “Do humans ownthat term, that they get to define it?”

She risked a peek at him right as his fist came down on the countertop. The crack of breaking marble was thunderous. Lara stumbled back against the cabinet behind her, a small, frightened whimper escaping her throat as she covered her head once more.

“I think, I reason, I react to the world around me. I question what I know and see, and I wonder what the future might bring, though I know it won’t likely be different than the past. I hope!” His voice dwindled, becoming something raw. “Iyearn.”

The aching loneliness in his voice made her breath catch and her chest constrict. His words echoed in her mind during the silence that followed them.

Slowly, Lara lowered her arms and peered up at him. His back was to her, his head angled down as he stared at his hands. He looked and had sounded more human than she ever would’ve thought possible. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself he was just another bot, she knew, at heart, he was different from the gearheads. Different from Warlord.

Different from themall.

It would’ve been easy for Ronin to use his fists on her, to batter her flesh and break her bones. Warlord had. But Ronin didn’t so much as touch her. No, it had been herwho’d hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Such simple words, with such deep impact. He’d used them when he thought he’d hurt her.

How could I think he’s unfeeling?

Ronin turned his head toward her, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “I must depart tomorrow.”

Her stomach twisted, and a heavy weight dragged it down. Lara had caused this rift between them. She’d driven him away when he had tried so hard to please her.

“I…” He fell silent.

Lara’s heart pounded, and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears. Curling her fingers around the hem of her shirt, she clutched the fabric.

“I don’t want to leave withthisbetween us,” Ronin said.

Everything stopped. His words hung in the air, and Lara couldn’t think. She stared at him as he turned fully toward her.

“The fault is mine. I thought your needs would be simple. That mine would be, too.” He shook his head, letting out a sound very close to a sorrowful sigh. “I’m learning. Forgive me, Lara Brooks.”

Placing a hand on the counter, Lara pulled herself to her feet. Her fear had vanished, leaving awe in its place. Learning. He waslearning.

“I forgive you,” she said, taking a tentative step closer to him. “I…hope you can forgive me, too.”

“We both assumed understanding of one another, without considering what that really means.” He tipped his head down and ran a finger over a deep crack in the stone countertop. “I guess we really are made in the image of the Creators, if we share some of the same flaws.”

“I…I need you to understand.” Lara timidly eased around the counter. “My experiences with bots don’t put them in a good light for me, Ronin. Many of the ones I’ve dealt with wouldn’t have thought twice about doing that”—she pointed to the crack—”to me.”

She stopped in front of him, looking up at his face. “And no bot’s ever apologized to me. For anything.”

His eyes ran over her body, engulfing her in their depths. “You’ve known so few of us. The ones you’ve encountered are…an anomaly.”

“They were my reality. All the same…or worse.”

His gaze locked with hers. “What can I do, Lara, to make you happy tonight? To see you smile before I leave?”

Though his words caught her by surprise, they brought a smile to her lips. Tears filled her eyes. Ronin wanted her happy. Not just comfortable, not simply in good health so she could dance for him, but happy. No one besides Tabitha had ever cared about Lara’s feelings. No one until Ronin.