Kat knew by now that he didn’t care about the pain the physical contact would cause him. “Yes.” Turning her head, she kissed his broad palm. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Lock swung her up into his arms and carried her back to bed.
Kat laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to forget the hurt and humiliation she’d endured. But in her mind’s eye, she just kept seeing Deep’s mocking grin and hearing him say over and over, “Nothing. I feel nothing for you.”
She wished she could say the same about him.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Deep didn’t go to the Unmated Males area. In fact, he barely made it back to the suite he shared with Lock. Just inside the front door, he collapsed, sliding down the wall to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest.
She hates me now. Utterly and without a doubt. Hates me. Well good—that was what he’d wanted. Wasn’t it?
Self loathing rolled through him in waves like nausea until he knew he was going to be sick. Heaving himself to his feet, he just made it to the bathroom in time to void the contents of his stomach.
When he was empty, he splashed water from the sink in his face and rubbed his cheeks and mouth vigorously with a towel. Looking up into the viewer, he saw emptiness—a male with nothing left to lose. Nothing left because he’d just thrown away the most precious thing in his life. Thrown it away like a piece of garbage to lie rotting and festering in a dump.
“I killed it,” he said aloud, addressing the hated face in the mirror. “Anything she felt for me is dead now.”
But that was good—that was how it had to be. Closing his eyes, he remembered again the moment of total panic he’d experienced when she fainted during their love-making. I would have hurt her. Would have been the death of her—the same way I was with Miranda. She’s better off without me. Better off with Lock.
Yes—that was the truth of it. The real heart of the matter. Deep knew he didn’t deserve to love and be loved in return by such a beautiful, intelligent elite female. But Lock did. And Lock would take care of her, he would shelter Kat and protect her from the fiercest danger. He was the one she needed to be with. But how?
I know a way. Deep thought of the schematics for the Scourge torture device called the psychic knife. He’d been studying them before he was called away by Kat’s pain. When he’d first suggested using it, Deep had fully intended to simply sever himself and Lock from Kat once and for all. But after reading over the specs, a different plan was emerging in his head.
Forgive me, little Kat, he thought, wiping his face one last time and going in to the bedroom to study some more. Forgive me for hurting you but you’ll see—it will be for the best in the long run. I promise it will.
* * * * *
Kat was dreaming. At least, she thought she was—she seemed to be floating disembodied in an empty room. Where am I? she thought, looking around. The room seemed familiar—the large leather sofa built for three, the small, cozy fireplace, the pictures on the wall of a world with golden oceans… Deep and Lock’s suite, she thought. But what am I doing here?
Her question seemed to be answered when Deep walked in and settled himself at the desk in one corner of the room. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a long, thin tube and unrolled it to form a personal memory pad. Kat watched with interest as the liquid crystals within the pad’s black surface came to life and began to form shapes. What was he doing? The dark twin didn’t strike her as the introspective type—the idea that he might keep a memory journal surprised her greatly. But then, a lot of things about Deep surprised her. And not all of the surprises were pleasant.
Deep looked over his shoulder for a moment, almost as though he could sense that someone was watching him. Then, having satisfied himself that he was alone in the room, he leaned closer to the pad. “Enable memory five-two-six. Replay nonstop. Allow no interruptions,” he murmured.
There was a soft clicking and then the display screen enlarged substantially as the crystals expanded. By the time the memory began, it was large enough that Kat could have seen it from across the room.
The memory looked like a scene shot with an old fashioned handheld camera. It was clearly from Deep’s point of view and seen though his eyes because Lock was walking right beside him and they were talking in low voices. They appeared to be moving down a clean white sidewalk along a row of well cared for houses.
The neighborhood could have been in any town in America, as far as Kat could see. The houses looked to be upper middle class—prosperous without being gaudy. There were luxury cars and minivans in the driveways and the lawns were green and well tended. All the houses were quiet and peaceful…except for the one at the end of the block.