The Mech Who Loved Me(83)

Like how close Kincaid sat, the scent of his cologne acting like an aphrodisiac. She wasn't certain whether she wanted to bite him-or kiss him. The urge rode through her body like a carpenter's file over her nerves. She couldn't help shifting, her thighs rubbing together temptingly. Wanting. Craving.

Blood and ashes. She was far too alive, far too aware, far too... hungry. For something, anything.

He was still talking. "...I'm so sorry, Ava. So sorry. You were right about the caterpillar mushroom. About using it as a weapon. Innocent people would die. You nearly died, and I would cut my own heart out before I ever let you get hurt."

"It's all right. I know you weren't thinking of the consequences-you saw only the possibilities, only the cause you sacrificed your life to."

He drew her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. "They took everything from me," he whispered hoarsely. "They killed my sister, turned her into something I didn't even recognize, and she couldn't live with that anymore. She killed herself. And I've hated blue bloods for so long, it's hard to realign my thinking. But seeing you like that today.... Jaysus. I couldn't do anything to help you. And you're lucky. So lucky your heart is made of clockwork."

She looked away, haunted by ghosts.

"I nearly lost you," Kincaid breathed, and curled her hand in both of his. "And I didn't realize until that moment how much you meant to me. How much losing you would hurt."

"It's okay," she whispered, stroking his hair from his brow. Her heart ticked inexorably on, but it felt like it should be racing. What did he mean by that? She felt like she stood on the precipice of a turning point, as though her future was suddenly very uncertain. "We had a lucky turn of events, and now we know what the caterpillar mushroom does to a blue blood."

"You were still coughing blood before you went to sleep."

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I feel normal again."

Dark lashes obscured Kincaid's eyes as he glanced down, his thumb pausing right there on her vein. "I should have been the one to offer my blood."

What? She sat up a little straighter. Of all the things to say.... Couldn't he see how on edge she was? "No."

"You don't want my blood?"

"No... I... Yes. Yes, of course." Plague him. "Who else is here?"

"Malloryn's returned home," he replied gently, "possibly to dwell on what you told us about the attack. Jack's in the basement I think, and I'm not sure if Charlie's around. He often goes out at night, and Malloryn wanted a report on what people are saying about the attack. Apart from that...." His expression suddenly froze, as if he'd finally caught the thread of where she was going with this line of questioning. Then he relaxed. "You're safe, Ava. I know you're not going to attack me, if that's what you're afraid of."

Safe? What a fool he was. She could still feel it brewing within her, a darkness full of hungry teeth. Maybe she had survived the caterpillar mushroom, but at what cost? For she didn't feel normal. She felt like all her safe trappings had been ripped away, and she was unmoored from her sanctuary.

She felt angry, and hungry, and not at all herself.

It was like living through those first horrible weeks when she'd been stricken with the craving and her body changed, flooding her with desires she'd never felt before. When lust became an all-consuming thought, and all she could think about was blood.

"Well, I don't know that!" Ava cried, feeling her vision drop from color to black-and-white shadows. She could hear his heart pounding. "If I let myself go for just one second... maybe I would be the monster you fear? Maybe I'd-"



       
         
       
        

Strong arms went around her. "You're not a monster, Ava. You just don't have it in you."

She fought against him for a second, but the warmth of his body was so damned sweet. Ava pressed her face into his shoulder. Don't let me go. Please, don't ever let me go. But beneath that sweetness was a restless ache. Ava cradled her sprained wrist carefully against him, breathing in his cologne. "I'm scared."

Today had terrified her, taking her straight back into the past. Being paralyzed was almost worse than anything Hague had done to her, for while she'd thought his chains and the straps tying her down made her helpless, she'd still been in some semblance of control of her body. "I couldn't move," she whispered. "I couldn't move my body. I couldn't even cry out."

"Hush, sweetheart." He kissed her cheek, his roughened stubble rasping against her. "You're safe now. You can move. Your body's your own."