"Ulbricht?" she demanded.
"Can't say."
A sudden noise rattled her to the core. Ava flinched.
"Just a cat," Kincaid murmured, stroking her back. He did that often.
She couldn't quite explain to him why she was so nervous. He'd insist she stay behind.
"Move out," Malloryn said, slipping the auditory device into his ear so he'd be able to communicate with them. "And keep your eyes open. If it is Ulbricht, then I want him alive."
"And if it's the humanists, then we use minimum force," Kincaid insisted.
"Indeed," Malloryn murmured. "Unless we're backed into a corner."
Ava slid the small brass communicator in her own ear, hearing the crackle of someone's harsh breathing. She wanted to be brave. She wanted to help the others, and she hated the idea of seeing Kincaid head in there without her to watch his back, but factory five loomed ahead of her.
Sending her right back into the past.
"Draining factory five," she whispered, staring up at the factory Hague's laboratory had once hidden beneath, as they finished arming themselves.
Kincaid looked at her sharply. "Are you all right? You've gone quite pale."
There was a tremor in her hands. "This is where Hague kept me for several months. There was a secret laboratory beneath the main floors, and he locked me in a tank of some sort of liquid, with a breathing mask over my face, and I could see everything-everything he did to those girls. To me...." Ava swallowed. Fear buzzed along her nerves, a warning tingle. "I don't think I-I can go in there."
"Look at me." Kincaid squeezed her arm. "Look at me, Ava."
She did, drawn by the heat in his voice.
"Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. Hague is dead. And I would move hell and high water to keep you safe."He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're safe. You're always safe with me."
"But what if you're not always there?" she whispered, and if she could have shed a tear, she would have.
Kincaid froze, a storm cloud of expression darkening his face. "Ava."
But he was the one who'd said they had no future.
"I-"
"Don't make me any promises you cannot keep," she whispered. "I love you, and I won't hide that. I can't. And I could bear it if you'd let me love you for a little while, something to cherish, a time I could look back on fondly. But if you give me hope, and then dash my heart-that I could not bear."
"We need to talk about this," he said, "but now's not the time." Hesitation filled him. "I could love you too, kitten. It would be the easiest thing in the world, and I want to. I do. But... now is not the time to speak of this."
I could love you too.
He was right. Ava turned away, watching as the rest of the Rogues armed themselves. "Do you need any help with your mech-suit?"
"I can manage, but Ava?"
She looked back.
"Always," he told her sternly. "I will always be there for you, no matter what happens between us. If you ever need me... ever, do you understand? And that's a promise I can keep. For as long as I'm still breathing."
Ava released a shuddering breath. She felt a little better now, a little more herself. "I understand."
"Then let's go hunt down Ulbricht-so we can have a moment to ourselves to talk about where this is going." Then he turned to strap himself into his Achilles armor.
* * *
"Sure you know how to shoot a pistol?"
"Perry's been teaching me." Ava opened her pistol and loaded it, before reholstering it at her waist.
Tension slid through Kincaid's chest, but there wasn't much to say. "I know you're capable," he said roughly. "I'm just worried."
"I'm a blue blood," she said. "You're human. One could say the same."
Kincaid rapped his knuckles on his mech-suit. "They've got to get through this first." And he'd been killing before Ava even knew what the craving was. He glanced to where Byrnes was checking Ingrid's armored corset. The pair of them looked at each other and he saw the same concern on both their faces; a moment where sentiment reflected.
Clearly this did not get any easier, regardless of whether the woman you loved could rip a vampire to pieces with her bare hands, or not.
Gemma silently handed Ava a flask. "Drink it."
"What is it?"
"Blood." Gemma checked the weapons strapped to Ava's hips. "And don't argue. It will prime the predator within you so you're faster and stronger, and can see and hear a little better."
He let Gemma's competence distract him from his nerves about Ava. Gemma was dressed to kill in an armored corset that covered her clothes, and an under-dress that was split at the sides to allow her freedom of movement. Gauntlets protected her hands, and wicked little spikes drove out from her knuckles. One punch and they'd pierce a man's body. He suspected they were laced with hemlock, and she had little hemlock bombs hanging from her belt, beside at least four holstered pistols.