“Now isn’t the time to make out, girls,” McKell said. Was that, dare she think it, amusement in his voice? “Well, all right. If you insist. You can kiss, but make it quick.”

“Wow. McKell sharing something he considers his.” Noelle smacked her lips in mock astonishment. “Will wonders never cease?”

“When you’ve had something precious taken away from you,” he said, “you learn to guard everything else. Especially that which means the most to you.” His warm breath trekked over her temple. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”

Something hot bloomed in Ava’s chest. Sweetheart, again. “Oh, yes.”

The vehicle jostled to a start, soon winding along the roads. The windows were darkened, so she couldn’t see outside. Only the overhead light allowed her to see the men and women trapped with her.

Where they headed to AIR? To be locked up as Johnny was?

“Your jaw’s swollen,” McKell said, brushing his knuckles gently over the wound in question.

Even so slight a touch sent a sharp pain shooting through her, and she flinched. She hadn’t realized she’d been punched there. “Now that you mention it, it does hurt like a son of a bitch.”

“So,” he said on a sigh, “you won’t be able to do certain … things for a while. That’s almost a deal breaker.”

Things like suck that beautiful cock? She laughed, then flinched again. “Jaw wounds take the longest time to heal.” His teasing was distracting her, lightening her mood. Maybe hers would do the same for him.

“How long?”

“Months.”

His shoulders sagged. “I was playing at first. But months, you say?”

“Oh, yes.” She burrowed her head in the hollow of his neck, hiding her grin. “And God forbid if I have to have surgery. I mean, the bones feel out of joint. Healing could take years.”

“Years?” he squeaked.

“You, Ava Sans, are evil,” Noelle said with a laugh of her own.

Ava slapped her shoulder. “Stop listening to our conversation.”

“Then stop having a conversation for me to listen to. You know I can’t help myself.”

They didn’t have to stop. The car did, and everyone in the van sobered instantly. Ava tensed. McKell crushed her to his chest as footsteps sounded. Then the doors opened, and Ava caught sight of multiple agents and an unfamiliar—and very intimidating—building. A warehouse, deserted, dark, nothing around it.

“Let’s go,” one of the agents said, motioning them out.

Twenty-nine

They were given a room—or, more aptly, a cell—of their own. Maybe because McKell threatened to rip their escorts’ throats out if they pushed him and Ava into the same room as all the others. They believed him. Which did, in fact, save their lives.

His parting words to them? “Watch us through the window, and I’ll know. I’ll feel your eyes, hear your heartbeats. And nothing will prevent me from reaching through it and, what? Slicing your goddamn throats.”

The door closed with a click, enclosing him in a four-by-four with his darling Ava. They had a cot, padded walls, and a toilet, but he paid those things no heed. He stood in front of a door without any discernible seams, listening beyond. Footsteps pounded, voices murmured, and the rush of blood faded. Again the guards had heeded his advice and saved their own lives.

That done, McKell switched his full attention to Ava. She sat on the cot, elbows resting on her knees. Once again there was fear in her lovely eyes, and he didn’t like it. Distraction, that’s what she needed. Had worked before, in the van.

Touch, that’s what he needed. He had to reaffirm that she lived.

When he’d seen those warriors appear behind her, hit her, when he’d tried to race to her, only to be stabbed in the back before he could get to her, he’d experienced utter despair and instant rage. He couldn’t abide the thought of her being hurt. He couldn’t abide the thought of failing her.

She was everything to him.

And she would let him turn her. He’d never thought he would have that option, but thankfully, fate had planned otherwise, and he knew his true gift, or vampire ability, was his blood. He was finally on the right path. Being together. Forever. Only thing he didn’t like was the fact that she wasn’t actually ready for the change. Deep down, he didn’t want to turn her before she was ready.

The Schön queen had asked him if he loved her. He hadn’t known then, but he knew now. He did. He loved her. He couldn’t live without her, and it had nothing to do with needing her blood. He needed her. Ava. Her smile, her laugh, her scent, her hands, her breath, her stubbornness, her fury, her wit. Everything. Every part of her.

“Ava,” he said, needing to tell her all of that. He didn’t wait for her reply. He approached her and knelt in front of her, clasping her hands and feeling her heat, her pulse. Yes, touch—connection—was exactly what he’d needed.

“McKell.” His name was a plea, a benediction. She’d wanted to be touched as much as he’d wanted to touch her.

In an instant, holding hands wasn’t enough. He gathered her in his arms, pivoted, and sat on the cot. He settled her in his lap while petting her hair, her nape, her arm. “I have to tell you something,” he began. There was no better time for a confession.

She was just a little stiff when she said, “That sounds serious.”

“It is. I … love you.” How would she react? He’d never declared his feeling to another. Ever. “I love you more than anything and anyone.”

The stiffness drained from her. “Really?”

“Really.” Part of him had expected a denial, he realized as a relieved breath fanned from him. “You delight me, Ava, in so many ways.”

“Tell me those ways.”

Anyone else would have laved him with kisses; Ava demanded proof. He smothered a laugh he knew she wouldn’t understand. “I’m free to be myself with you. I have fun with you, even when circumstances are dire. You didn’t have the easiest life, yet you never let that hinder you. You grew into a strong, stunning woman. My woman.” He didn’t want to pressure her into saying the words back to him. In this, he would not rush her. He stated his case and quickly changed the subject. “Now. Tell me a secret about yourself. You promised to tell me ‘later,’ and now is later.”

At first, she gave no response. Then she was sniffling and shaking, grinning and crying. Mostly crying.

“What thoughts are dancing through your head, love?” Of all the reactions he’d thought she would give him, that wasn’t even on the list.

She cried a little harder. Then, “I—I—all right,” she said, ignoring his question. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He kissed her temple. “Let’s hear it.” He wanted to know everything about her, even at the expense of his need to soothe her. He wanted to pamper her for the rest of eternity.

“Well.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “I adore old kung fu movies. That’s where I picked up my mad ass-beating skills.”

Again, he tried not to laugh. “That’s a wee bit surprising. I’ve seen a few of them, and know kung fu is all about fighting with—and don’t take this the wrong way, love. Fighting with honor.”

“Are you saying I’m not honorable?” She straightened and glared at him.

“Ava, love. You tasered me. Stabbed me. Stunned me twice. You lack honor, and I’m glad. Honor won’t win a battle.”

“True.” With a sigh, she relaxed back against him. “Now tell me a secret about you.”

He thought about what to tell her, and before he knew it, five minutes had passed in silence. She waited patiently. “I don’t think children are too terrible of monsters,” he finally said. An easy fact based in truth; one she might like.

She knew him well enough to understand what he was saying. “You want a family?”

“One day, yes.”

“With … me?”

“Only with you.” And when she turned vampire, children would most likely be possible. If not, well, he wouldn’t be too disappointed because he would have Ava all to himself.

She pressed a soft kiss into his nape, lingered … licked. “I don’t think kids are too terrible of monsters, either.”

His blood heated, rushing through his veins to meet her lips. Though he wanted to toss her down on the cot, strip her, have her, he didn’t move. The conversation was too important.

“McKell?”

“Yes.” He hadn’t meant to growl. That heat …

“I—I love you.”

Thank God. He hadn’t wanted to rush her, but damn! He’d needed to hear those three words so badly. “You don’t have to say it back if you—”

“I love you. I’ve never said that to anyone before, but I do. I love you. You’re stubborn, possessive, and passionate. You make me laugh, and ache, and dream. And sometimes, like now, you make me feel so special. I like that.”

“You are special and I want to make you feel that way always.” His arms tightened around her, probably breaking her sweet little bones. But he had two choices, and he knew it. Either hold her like this, or throw her down as he still craved. “When did you realize your feelings for me?”

“When you were bleeding to death.”

He barked out a laugh, unable to stop himself this time. “That’s all it took, hmm? Almost dying?”

“Mm-hm.” Her fingers traced the scar on his chest, and he leaned into the gentle touch.

Can’t throw her down, can’t throw her down. “Had I known, I would’ve allowed someone to stab me much sooner. But you do realize now that I was never close to death, yes? I’m too strong to die.” And he had too much to live for.

The wicked tip of her tongue emerged, giving his pulse another caress. “Speaking of dying, what are we going to do about our little problem?”

“Little problem. So you don’t mean the big problem you’re creating in his pants?”

For the first time since he’d met her, she giggled. He adored the sound.

“You’re talking about the queen?” he asked. “Our imprisonment?”

“Yes. I think … I think we’re gonna have to escape this compound. No one knows how to defeat her, and you’re the best chance AIR has of winning.”

“She defeated me before.”

“Yeah, but now you know what to expect.”

True. He didn’t mention how easily the queen adapted to everything, even his tricks.

“So you’re going to do it? Escape? Fight her?”

“Of course. I want you safe, love. By fair means or foul, I’ll see it done.” And he would. Whatever he had to do.

Ava’s teeth came out to play, nibbling where she’d licked. “Well, then, you’ll need to be properly nourished.”

In seconds, his need racketed close to I-can’t-control-myself territory. Biting her, drinking her, holding her, hands roving … He might not be strong enough to turn her down. “What are you saying, love?” Maybe he had misunderstood.

“That I want you to bite me,” she said, confirming his thoughts. “You need the blood, and I need to feed you. Want to feed you.” She traced a heart on his chest. “Let me do this.”

He captured her hand and kissed the fluttering pulse at her wrist. He was shaking, mouth watering with the force of his desires. “Are you sure?” No, he wasn’t strong enough.

She lifted her head and peered at him, a tigress determined to get her way. “I’m sure. So let me do this for you, McKell. Victor. My Victor. For me. I tortured you for days, not giving you more than a few sips. Let me give you everything.”

Like that, he did reach the point where he lost control. More than his mouth filling with moisture, his tongue was swelling. His teeth were aching. His heart was threatening to explode. “You’re sure you’re not too weakened from the fight?” he asked again, because he would rather die than hurt her further.

Slowly she grinned. “Believe me, I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

He tumbled her to the cot so that he loomed above her, and she immediately turned her head, offering an unobstructed view of her neck. Her lovely neck. Her pulse fluttered there, too, and he could hear the rush of her decadent blood.

Mine.

First he licked her, softening her skin. She moaned. Then he sucked, drawing the blood up and causing it to pool, readying for him. She groaned. Then, sweet heaven, then he bit. Sucked. Swallowed.

And reared back in horror.

The hot flow of her blood trickled from his mouth, but he didn’t lick it up. He wiped it away with his hand, trying not to cringe or shout.

“Ava,” he said shakily.

Frowning, she sat up. Suddenly there were dark circles under her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

No, he thought, nearing hysteria in a heartbeat of time. No, no, no. He knew he could turn her, had planned for it. Would. But he was suddenly so damn afraid. What if that didn’t work? What if she died anyway? What if he killed her?

“McKell! What is it? What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “You’re … you’re the one infected, love. You have the Schön disease.”

* * *

At first, Ava denied McKell’s claim. As the hours ticked away, her warrior pacing in front of her, trying to decide what to do, how best to save her, she could feel herself weakening, denial no longer possible. She could even hear a voice inside her head. A female voice. Not her own, either. This voice grew stronger with every minute that passed, and the stronger it became, the more it seemed to take over. As if Ava’s will was no longer her own.