Page 118 of The Mech Who Loved Me
He let Gemma's competence distract him from his nerves about Ava. Gemma was dressed to kill in an armored corset that covered her clothes, and an under-dress that was split at the sides to allow her freedom of movement. Gauntlets protected her hands, and wicked little spikes drove out from her knuckles. One punch and they'd pierce a man's body. He suspected they were laced with hemlock, and she had little hemlock bombs hanging from her belt, beside at least four holsteredpistols.
"You're looking particularly deadly today," henoted.
Gemma smiled as Ava hesitantly tipped the flask to her lips. "Only today? I must beslipping."
"I pity the poor bastard who crossesyourpath."
She rapped her knuckles on his breastplate, and the spikes squealed against the metal. "One could saythesame."
His glance brushed over Ava's blonde curls, and Gemma saw the direction of his gaze. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and relief filled him. They'd all keep an eyeonher.
Ava's chest rose and fell breathlessly as she lowered the flask from her lips. Her eyes gleamed black. Ava patted his cheek, and he captured her hand there, turning the move into a kiss toherpalm.
"What was that for?" sheasked.
"For being you," he said, stroking his thumb down her palm. "For being brave, and kind, and absolutely fuckingperfect."
Heat pinkened her cheeks. "Hardly poetic, but appreciated, allthesame."
"Here are the rules," he continued, capturing her face in both hands. His mech fingers dug into her cheek a little. "Survive at all costs. Watch your back. And stay with one of us at alltimes."
"Only if you promise to focus on your own task—and not on whether I'm safe or not. You're at risk too,youknow."
His heart swelled in his chest. She was one hell of a woman. Kincaid reached over and cupped the back of her nape, dragging her up onto her toes so he could kiss her. He captured her mouth, devouring the taste of her. A kiss full of fire and passion, and something else. Something he couldn't quite put intowords.
"Anytime you're ready," Malloryn said tartly, and Kincaid heard the sound of a pistol beingloaded.
"You're just jealous because neither the baroness nor your future wife are offering to kissyouat the moment," Gemmashotback.
"I don'twantto kiss Miss Hamilton," Malloryn growled, "and Isabella will come around. Are we ready? I for one would like to bury Ulbrichtalive."
Kincaid broke away from Ava, breathing hard. The others could damnwellwait.
"Let's go," Malloryn called. "Be wary. We don't know what Ulbricht is planning. He wants to destroy the draining factory and lay the blame at the feet of humanists, thus starting another war. We're about to stop him. At any cost. I will not see my city go up in flamesagain."
"Let's show the Sons of Gilead what the Company of Rogues can do!" Charlie called, dartingahead.
"Bloody hell," Malloryn muttered, and then they converged on thefactory.
* * *
Gemma pickedthe lock at the back of the factory, using a glimmer ball to see what she was doing. Kincaid guarded her back, his enormous mech-suit blocking the light from any guards that might have been posted. Byrnes, Jack, Ingrid, and Ava were out there, removing any of said guards, but they couldn't be toocareful.
He didn't like Ava being separated from him, but he couldn't argue against Malloryn's splitting of the teams. His group would be heading into danger first, which meant they'd draw the heavier fire. Better for her to be out there at this moment, rather than inside. And Ingrid had promised to kill anything that wentnearher.
Verwulfen had a protective instinct amilewide.
"Got it," Gemma whispered, and then she turned the door handle so slowly sweat dripped down hisspine.
Malloryn and Charlie slipped inside behind her. Inside the draining factory, the dull throb and roar of the steam engines that ran the machinery covered the hiss of the pistons in his suit as he brought uptherear.
He'd never been inside one of the factories before. The four of them fanned out, shadows in thenight.
A gruntechoed. "Hey—"
Faint moonlight gleamed through the windows, highlighting a lithe dark shape that fought in a swift flurry of blows. A guard. And one of the Rogues. Kincaid held his pistol low. He could feel his blood rushing through his veins, but he kept his flickering gaze on the room, and not on whoever had attacked theguard.
"He's down," Gemma whispered through the communication device. And he could just make her out, lowering an unconscious—or dead—body to theground.
