The Mech Who Loved Me(71)

He couldn't say it.

"Is there no cure?"

"Malloryn's instructed the Royal College of Physicians to try and find one, but... I don't hold much hope."

Ava was frozen, looking absolutely horrified. "What about the craving virus?"

"No."

"It can heal virtually anything."

"You think that's any better? To become a-" He remembered to whom he was talking.

"A monster?" she whispered, looking even paler.

"Ava."

"Do you think me a monster?"

"No!" He held his hands up in a placating manner. "But what if it doesn't stop my illness? There are some illnesses, some tumors, the craving virus hasn't been able to help. I don't know if I could dare hope. And it goes against everything I've ever believed."

"You're being stubborn," she snapped, "because of your prejudices. If you'd just accept-"

"What? You want to lecture me? Why don't we discuss the way you accept your nature?"

Ava froze.

"Aye," he said deliberately. "You keep saying I'm the one with prejudices, and I should risk all in the hopes the craving virus will heal me, but you're the one who can't abide blood. You're the one who keeps working on this mysterious 'formula,' so you can pretend to be what you aren't-"

"That's not fair. And I won't take offense at it. You're afraid.... And-"

"Of course I'm bloody afraid." He rasped his hand over his mouth, reining himself back in. He didn't want to hurt her, but couldn't she see how difficult this was for him? "You live in a world of 'maybe,' Ava. And it's part of what draws me to you. Despite everything, you still have hope in your eyes, and it makes you more beautiful than you will ever know. But for me there is no maybe. All I can see is the end. I am going to die. Maybe not tomorrow, but in a few years. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I am. But as I said, fairy tales don't exist. Not in real life. And I'll live every day between now and then as if it were my last, but I won't drag you down with me."



       
         
       
        

"Is that your choice?" Her eyes were shining, but there were no tears. "It feels like you're not even giving me a decision in this."

"Because I know what that decision would be. Your most beautiful trait is the empathy you can't hide. I won't be pitied. I won't ruin your life because you think you need to nurse me into the grave." He could see everything she felt flickering over her face. "You want marriage, and you want children, and I will not inflict this on a child. I can't." His voice broke. "This bloody curse can die with me."

Kincaid nodded to her curtly, his insides twisted in knots. "I just wanted you to know. And if you choose not to go forward with our agreement, then I'll understand. This is becoming emotionally tangled for both of us, and that's not fair on you. I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier."

But I wanted to touch you just once, and I couldn't deny myself.

Then he turned and stormed out of the alley, unable to bear the look in her eyes any longer.





Seventeen





KINCAID CIRCLED CHARLIE. The young lad was lean and Kincaid dwarfed him, but the bastard was a craver through and through. Which meant he was faster than Kincaid, stronger, and recovered quicker.

If Kincaid didn't have a biomech hand that could punch its way through walls, then he'd be seriously outclassed.

He didn't care if he was outclassed right now. A part of him wanted to be punished, and maybe if he let the physical pain of a fight overwhelm him, then it wouldn't hurt so much inside.

He hadn't seen Ava since last night, when he dropped her home at the safe house and then went and got blind roaring drunk with Xander, ignoring the way his friend kept looking at him as if he knew something was wrong.

And there'd been a note this morning, a quiet one full of unspoken hurt, where she'd told him she'd knocked on his door and waited for him, but she needed to see to something at the guild and could no longer wait.

It was better this way. Wasn't it?

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Charlie asked.

"Just hit me already."

Charlie sighed, and then came at him in a blur of fists. Knuckles slammed into his side, and Kincaid retaliated with a sharp elbow, following up with a left hook that almost connected with the lad's nose.

He'd extended too far. Pain exploded through his cheekbone as Charlie planted him with a fistful of fives.

"Sorry," Charlie said, dropping his fists from a pugilist stance as Kincaid staggered back.

"Don't be sorry," Kincaid growled, and drove at him, desperately needing to drive the horrible feeling inside him away.