The Mech Who Loved Me(82)

"My CV levels are in the high fifties, so the cut won't stay open for long," Malloryn warned. "You cannot fight through this, Ava, not without the predator taking over at some stage. Take a little blood to calm it down, and then we can return to the safe house and find your flask for you. Your body needs to heal too, judging by the look of you. You're very lucky."

"Please," Ava panted, but she couldn't look away from the razor. "Please, no. I can do this." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want your blood."

Kincaid could see the lie on her face. "Malloryn's right," he said gruffly, surprised to hear himself say it. "A little blood from... from Malloryn, and then it will be safe to take you home and get your flask."

"Can you hold my hand?" she whispered.

His gut churned.

"I don't think that's safe," Malloryn interrupted, watching the pair of them. When Kincaid's gaze jerked to him, Malloryn shrugged. "You're human. Your blood smells and tastes better, and you won't be able to hold her off if she goes for your throat."

Another slap in the face. Another reminder of what she was. Hell, when had he stopped thinking of Ava as a blue blood?

But this was no easier for her than it was for him. Can you hold my hand? A plea, as if the thought of this hurt her too.

"I'll hold your hand if you need me to," he said, tilting his head toward the razor. "Distract her. And keep her off me if you need to."

Malloryn arched a brow, but turned back to Ava. "Ready?"

She swallowed. "Ready."

The razor pressed a white indentation along Malloryn's wrist, which instantly filled with bluish-red blood. Ava moaned, and Malloryn cupped the back of her head and put his wrist to her lips as though he'd done this a thousand times.

Kincaid knelt beside them, slipping his fingers through hers. He hated seeing her like this. Hated seeing Malloryn's wrist at her lips, in some vaguely primitive way that needed further investigation when he had time to himself to think, but this was about Ava now. "That's it, sweetheart." He stroked her hair, brushing it off her face and fingering one silky curl.



       
         
       
        

It wrapped around his finger, and he rubbed the end of it between thumb and forefinger, marveling at the sensation.

Ava's eyes lifted from where she clutched at Malloryn's hand, her lips around the duke's wrist. They were pure black, like a demon's, but something about the moment made his cock harden.

Malloryn looked away.

And Kincaid remembered the one thing he'd forgotten in all of this: a blue blood's saliva had chemicals in it that could incite ecstasy in their victims. It was the ultimate weapon for a predator like a blue blood, and though it affected people on different levels, it was the thing that had turned his sister, Agatha, from a girl with a promising future to a young woman who couldn't sleep, couldn't stop itching at her skin, craving the touch of a blue blood's mouth on her flesh.

Kincaid and Malloryn locked eyes. If the duke was finding pleasure in this moment then Kincaid was going to kill him.

Slowly.

But only once they got Ava to safety.



* * *

Evening fell.

Ava woke to find someone lighting the candles beside her bed. For a second she didn't know where she was, or who was in her room. Her heart leaped into her throat, and then she recognized the rough stubble along the man's jaw, and the brief flex of the pistons in his mech hand.

Kincaid.

Ava shivered a little, her body relaxing. Everything hurt, including her sprained wrist. Kincaid had bound it up earlier in a sling, but for a blue blood, the only thing to do was wait. She'd be fully healed in a day or two.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you." He blew on the end of the taper, extinguishing the small flame. "I know you don't like the dark."

And so he'd been making sure she wouldn't wake in it. His care toward her was almost... sweet, if one were trying to find the right word. Sweet and Kincaid were two words she would never have put together until now.

He dragged a stool closer to the bed, resting his elbows on the coverlet, though he watched her carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not going to attack you," she blurted, tucking the covers up under her chin.

He blinked. "I know."

"I just...."

His hand captured hers, warmth cocooning her. "I know," he repeated, and squeezed gently. "You were hurt and injured, and you needed blood. I'm starting to understand that. I wish I'd been able to donate. I wish...."

Ava squeezed her eyes shut, licking dry lips. The worst part of that morning's escapade was the fact now she wanted more of it. One taste and she craved hot, sweet blood. All these months she'd been telling herself her protein solution could sustain her, but it was nothing like the real thing. She felt like something dark had awoken inside her, and now it burned there, whispering seductive thoughts to her.