The Mech Who Loved Me(72)

They punched, and wrestled, and slammed each other into walls. Blows turned his vision white, and he was soon limping, his body fatigued and bruised, while Charlie looked fresh as a daisy.

It rankled. He'd been worse than useless the night Zero attacked him and Byrnes and broke his nose. How could a human fight something that moved faster than he could even track? Surviving was the best he could manage, which often left him wondering precisely why the Duke of Malloryn had ever asked him to join the Company of Rogues.

He wasn't useless, and he wouldn't let this disease steal his sense of worth from him.

He was a good man in a fight, and he was tired of being taken for the weakest link on the team.

Kincaid went on the attack. Charlie danced around him, anticipating the next blow, and then answering with a right uppercut that slipped beneath Kincaid's guard.

His ears rang, his feet went out from under him, and then he was staring up at the ceiling, rolling his tongue around his mouth to check for broken teeth. Fuck.

"Jesus, are you all right?" An earnest head peered down at him, and that only pissed him off more. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard."

Grabbing the lad's hand, Kincaid hauled himself to his feet. "If you don't hit me hard in training, then the dhampir will when it counts. I need to learn to take those hits."

There was blood in his mouth. He spat through the open window and rinsed his mouth out, just in time to see Malloryn prance into the room.

"You're not enjoying this half enough," Malloryn told Charlie, who arched a brow dubiously.

"I don't enjoy hurting my friends," the lad replied. His fists were low, and he had a determined look on his face, as though he was going to refuse to go any further with this. "I'm done. You've got a death wish this morning, and you're not even protecting yourself."

Malloryn's calculating gaze slid toward Kincaid. "Trouble?"

"Nothing you need to know about."

Sometimes he didn't know why he was there. He was human, half-mech, and a lot of his principles didn't align with Malloryn's. The only thing they shared was the past. Both of them had fought to tear down the corrupt prince consort, though sometimes Kincaid wondered why Malloryn had lifted a finger.

Power?

He'd already been on the ruling Council of Dukes.

And he liked to glide through the shadows, even now. No. Malloryn's motives were completely opaque, and Kincaid wasn't sure if he wanted to know why the man did what he did.

"You," he said, pointing a finger at the duke and tilting his head toward the mats, "and me. Let's go."

Malloryn stilled. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Kincaid couldn't stop a grin. "Why?" He rolled his shoulders. "Think I'm going to spray those pretty teeth all over the room?"

"He's got one hell of a punch on him," Charlie warned Malloryn.

"Or do you save all those suave moves for a waltz at court?" Kincaid taunted.

Malloryn's eyes narrowed to thin slits. "If you think you're going to bait me into a match by referring to my conceit, then I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I've been called many things in my time. Coward isn't something that riles me."

"Pretty boy?" Kincaid suggested, and if possible, those eyes narrowed even further.

"It's probably not a bad idea," Charlie said, his eyes meeting Kincaid's in a brief flash of conspiracy. "If we're attacked, Your Grace, then you'll need to know how to defend yourself."

"I know how to defend myself." Malloryn sounded irritated. "And if you call me 'pretty' one more time, I'll have to assume you're courting me. I've already got someone warming my bed."



       
         
       
        

"As well as a fiancée," Charlie pointed out, and Malloryn's scowl darkened.

"No interest in courting," Kincaid said. "Though I'll give you a love tap or two."

The pair of them circled him, and Malloryn's gaze swung between them. Charlie bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes alight in anticipation, "I promise I won't tell anyone if he beats you."

"Fine. Let's do this then. Once." Malloryn pointed at Kincaid. "You, on the mats." Shrugging out of his jacket, he turned that cool look on Charlie. "And to make this even, you can join him. If the two of you can take me down, then I'll forward you an extra month's worth of wages." Malloryn tossed his coat toward a chair and started unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up.

Charlie crowed, but Kincaid paused. In his experience, it was rare for a man of Malloryn's arrogance to walk willingly into a trap.