Page 73 of The Mech Who Loved Me
"What is it?" he barked, cutting through Gemma and Charlie'sconversation.
Malloryn's gaze cut to his. "Where'sAva?"
Something about the way the duke said it made Kincaid's insides turn to ice. "She wanted to discuss something with her mentor, Dr. Gibson, at the Nighthawks guild. Why? What doesitsay?"
Malloryn tugged a piece of blonde hair from the envelope. "It says, 'You should keep a closer eye on youroperatives.'"
Kincaid's heart kicked in hischest.
* * *
"Sure you're all right, lass?"Gibson asked, pouring her a cupoftea.
Not really. No matter what she tried, she couldn't focus this morning, and poor Dr. Gibson hadnoticed.
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'texist.
Ava moodily drew her synthetic protein solution out of her reticule. She rubbed at her arms. The smell made her feel a little ill, but she felt decidedly unbalanced today. She'd spent all night sobbing tearlessly to herself, alone in her room with her heart breaking in her chest, and all she could think was that she needed to find a cure. Something. Anything. Even if the answer was to convince Kincaid to risk thecraving.
...the way you acceptyournature....
Damnit.
"What do you know of degenerative muscular diseases?" shewhispered.
Gibson looked up sharply, handing her the cup and saucer. "Not a great deal, I'mafraid.Why?"
"No reason." And no hopethere.
Gibson went to put the blood back in its melting ice bath, but Ava suddenly reached out, stilling her hand. "MayI?"
"Are you certain, lass? You've been off blood for alongtime."
Too long maybe. She nodded, and laced her own tea. Blood spilled through the diluted water, like a reddened cloud in the bottom of her teacup. Ava stirred it even as heat spilled through her veins and the predator within her awoke. It felt like something alien took over her body. She was sharper, more alert, her vision suddenly catapulting forward in intensity until she could pick out the fine hairs on Gibson's cheek, and the network of capillaries beneath the good doctor'spaleskin.
If she couldn't accept her own nature, then how on earth could she convince Kincaid to even considertheidea?
"Bottoms up," she said nervously, and gulped a large mouthful ofhertea.
The taste of it exploded through her mouth like a supernova, slamming through her veins until her head spun and the world suddenly seemed warmer and brighter, and slightly more wonderful. A drug of pure bliss for her poor, starved body, and Ava swayed, grabbing hold of the armchair to steadyherself.
She'd forgotten how wonderfulthisfelt.
Hague had taken away her choice by infecting her. She'd always felt like abstaining from blood gave her some kind of control over the situation. It made her feel like it was her choice, andnothis.
But in doing so, she let his ghost haunt herfuture.
Every action she made was because of that monster. Every time she denied herself what her body wanted, it was becausehelingered there in thebackground.
And damn him, but she was tired of listening to his ghost. She had more important things to think about than a man who'd been rotting for over fouryears.
"Any reason for this sudden change?" Gibson asked, watching hercarefully.
"No."Yes. She sighed. "Kincaid told me he has a degenerative disease. There's no cureforit."
Gibson added a cube of sugar to his tea. "That's the fellow who's been working with you? And this bothers you,because...."
"I have feelings there," she admitted quietly, taking another sip of tea. "He hates blue bloods, but he likes me. And I suggested the craving might heal him, but... he rejectedtheidea."
