The Mech Who Loved Me(14)

Kincaid startled, then turned back to the boiling teapot. Every movement was carefully measured as he poured the fragrant brown liquid into chipped porcelain cups. They looked expensive and were clearly cherished, though Ava's father would have turned his nose up at the setting. "He's dying."

Dying. The word loomed in the small, cozy room. "Is he... Orla's father?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." No wonder the other woman looked tired.

Kincaid brought the tea setting over, handing her the pink cup with its dancing shepherdess painted on the side. "Forgive her the sharp words. She's forced to care for him day in and out, and it ain't a kind death."

"What's wrong with him?"

"His... his heart's getting weaker." Kincaid's nostrils flared. He must have been close with his uncle. "I don't really want to talk about it if I don't have to."



       
         
       
        

Ava sipped her tea, searching for a new topic of conversation. "How long should we hole up here while we wait for the riot to be shut down?"

That seemed to ease him. He sank onto the stool opposite her. "It will blow over within an hour or two. I'll go out and check if it's safe or not, before we head home."

"Back to Malloryn's safe house?"

He looked up. "Where did you want to go?"

"Well, if it was safe, then I wanted a look at that body," Ava protested. "The more time that ticks by, the less information I'll be able to gather from it."

"You do realize Malloryn's throwing us a bone here. This is a distraction. Nothing more. Just something to get the pair of us out of the house after so long trapped within."

"Well, I want a look at that body. It's the fifth one in two weeks. Whether the duke thinks it a diversion or not, he's granted me leave to look into it."

And damned if she wasn't going to do the best job she could.

Maybe it was just a disease that afflicted blue bloods, but Ava couldn't help feeling as though there was something more to it than that.

After all, blue bloods didn't succumb to disease. The craving virus was far too ambitious to allow something else to kill its host. They could heal from anything short of decapitation, burning, or a mortal blow to the heart, damn it.

What could be killing them?

Kincaid sighed. "You're not going to let it be, are you?"

This was the first case Malloryn had allowed her to lead. Ava tipped her chin up stubbornly. "Would you?"

"It's not as though we've got any other leads at the moment-only that sighting Gemma and Charlie are looking into."

"And don't you find that unusual too? After plaguing us for weeks, Lord Ulbricht and his SOG suddenly vanish into London's depths, never to be seen again? They're aristocrats. There's no possibility they'd be content in hiding, without their fancy manors. They have to be up to something."

"They will be." He looked unconcerned. "That's Gemma and Charlie's problem right now."

"They tried to kill Byrnes! They nearly killed Ingrid. And they were working with a dhampir woman who had vampires on a leash. I think that is cause for more than a little alarm!"

Kincaid leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "And does your outrage at the matter have to do with Ingrid, the vampires... or Byrnes?"

Ava drew back abruptly, feeling like he'd slapped her. "He's my friend."

"Friend?"

"He is." She hid behind her teacup, the saucer rattling as she jerked the cup to her lips. "It's not.... It's never been more than that." 

A cool, scrutinizing gaze locked on her. "Maybe not for him."

And there was the crux of the matter. Ava squeezed her eyes shut. "Can we not speak of this?"

"Just trying to figure out where you stand on the matter."

I don't know where I stand. I thought- I hoped.... "The last few years have been a little unkind to me. You don't know what it's like to have the rug pulled out from under your feet." She'd never told any of the other Rogues what she'd been through, and Byrnes was the only one who knew her story. "The one constant in all of that was Byrnes. He was my sense of safety when I felt adrift. He was kind when I very much needed kindness. And he... he never judged me. I never felt lacking when I was with him."

"Why would you feel lacking?"

"You might have noticed the distinct lack of suitors at my door," she said dryly. "I spend my days surrounded by dead bodies, laboratory equipment, and my orchid samples. I can practically see men's eyes glaze over when I get excited about the things that fascinate me. Who wants to hear about the latest advances to my protein solution? Or a test I've been trialing for a more accurate way to test a blue blood's stage of genesis? We have means to assess the craving virus levels in their blood, but what stage of metamorphosis are they at? With the dhampir, Zero, revealing that...." The words trickled to a halt. Damn it. She was doing it again. "You see? I'm physically incapable of holding a socially acceptable conversation."