by Bec McMaster
She was not Gemma, femme fatale and dangerous spy.
She was not Ingrid, whose Amazonian build and verwulfen temper frightened even the boldest of men.
She was Ava. Quiet conqueror of the laboratory, the woman most men overlooked in favor of others, and awkward enough in company she generally sought to avoid it these days.
A muscle in Kincaid's jaw ticked. "You... are no match for a dhampir."
Ava threw her hands in the air. Coward. "Who is a match for a dhampir? One of them took down both Byrnes and you without breaking a sweat."
"That's not the point," he said, his voice heating.
"Or should I say... by breaking a nose?"
Kincaid winced, and she focused on the slight hook to his nasal column. "The point is neither of us is suited for a confrontation with a creature that could rip our throats out without even blinking. If there is a link between Mr. Thomas's death and Zero's, then we're calling in Malloryn and the others, and gratefully handing this case on."
"Fine. If this leads to the dhampir, then we wash our hands of it." She didn't have to like it. This case was hers. "I'll go with Mr. Thomas to the morgue at the guild and see if I can sit in on the autopsy. I want to see if he's bleeding internally, as Zero was."
"You'll be careful?"
Ava looked up sharply.
"This is the fifth blue blood that has died like this," he pointed out. "What if it is some disease? I'm fairly safe, but who knows if you could become ill?"
"If it is a disease, then it's not very contagious." At his blank look, she continued. "It was compulsory for unapproved blue bloods to be listed before the revolution overturned the process. I checked the blue blood registry before we came, and there are certain boroughs of London that were approved for blue blood housing. This borough was a hot spot, which means there are quite a few blue bloods living in the area—probably the cause of the rumblings of discontent we ran into. Last year's census showed over thirty in this borough alone. If the disease were contagious, you'd expect more cases. This is the only one in this district. Clerkenwell's the only borough with more than one death within it."
"We don't know what's causing this. So promise me you'll be careful. Just in case."
Ava sighed. "I promise. I'll wear a mask during the autopsy, and I'll make sure I don't get any blood on my skin."
"There is one other way it might be transmitted... if it is a disease."
There was? Ava looked up.
"Something that might, ah, control the spread of the disease. It depends how they caught it, after all." Kincaid's face grew curiously flat. "Similar to the French pox."
Oh. She understood what he was trying to say. "All of the victims have been male."
"Women were never allowed to be infected with the craving virus, so that doesn't mean it applies only to men."
"Nor were any men who didn't have aristocratic blood flowing through their veins, but accidents happen," she said dryly, gesturing to herself. "And there are more female blue bloods out there than you'd think. A few cases have come out of the woodwork now it's no longer so strictly controlled. But I see your point. It could be only men who've been stricken down because there are more male blue bloods by a factor of a thousand, or it could be... because they're more prone to sharing certain bodily fluids. But where is the index patient? Something like syphilis is easily spread. We'd see more cases among the blue blood population if this disease was spread by sexual contact." She thought about it. "Unless we're catching this early. Maybe there was a... a lady in common. Or they've all visited the same brothel? Maybe it kills them before they've had a chance to spread this? Or perhaps humans don't develop the disease, but only carry it?"
Maybe it didn't have anything to do with Zero and the dhampir? Her shoulders slumped a little. It wasn't as though she wanted to come face-to-face with the terrorists, but this case.... She'd thought it might be her break. Her first chance to really prove herself for the Company of Rogues.
Anyone could do the lab work.
Kincaid knelt and picked up her discarded gloves, tucking them behind his belt so she wouldn't have to touch them. "Might not even be a disease."
"Then they're ingesting something, but poison doesn't affect a blue blood. Not permanently. There's no mark upon him, nothing to suggest a needle, or a cut. Not even under his lips."
"Could've healed. And you haven't checked everywhere yet."
Ava growled. "Maybe, maybe, could have, and possibly.... This is utterly perplexing. I'd hoped we'd have more to go on."
"Wait for the autopsy," he said, with a shrug. "You'll know more then."
Including what—precisely—had killed David Thomas.
* * *
"Internal bleeding," Dr. Gibson confirmed the following afternoon, pushing his goggles up on top of his head, and removing his gloves with the kind of pristine care a cat used to groom itself. "Myocardial rupture. Ruptured spleen. Bleeding in the liver, the kidneys, and the gallbladder."
Exactly as suspected. Ava frowned. "What caused it? He's a blue blood, after all."
She hadn't been able to isolate the agent.
Gibson sighed and tossed his gloves toward the medical waste bin. "Your guess is as good as mine, lass. Something caused the late Mr. Thomas to bleed out internally, and destroyed his organs. Something stopped his body from healing the ruptured veins and capillaries. No sign of poison in his blood work, but then the craving virus is rabid at detecting threats and removing them, so that's no guarantee. Only those odd-shaped blood cells that keep popping up here and there, but then is that a response to whatever happened to him? Or the cause?"
Ava peered through the microscope, and those odd-shaped cells came into sharp view. She'd been staring at them for nearly an hour, and neither she nor Gibson had any sort of clue where they'd come from. Except.... "Do you have the autopsy results on the dhampir I brought in two months ago?" Gibson didn't know precisely where she was working these days, nor what she was working upon, but she'd insisted upon him performing the autopsy. Gibson was an expert. "I examined them afterward, but I seem to recall fairly inconclusive results. As in, something killed her, and we don't know what."
Malloryn suspected Zero had been assassinated by her brethren, and the safe house breached. There'd been such a mad flurry as they were transferred elsewhere and locked down, and she'd been busy dealing with Byrnes, who'd been forcibly given the elixir vitae that transformed a blue blood into a dhampir.
They hadn't thought he'd survive, and Ava had pored over the diary of Dr. Erasmus Cremorne, the man who'd first created the elixir many years ago. Zero's results had been a minor note in her life, and by the time she had a chance to review them, it had been over a month later.
Gibson stroked his mustache. "It was inconclusive, yes, but I seem to recall a myocardial rupture only, and her capillaries and veins disintegrated. She died from mass internal bleeding, and the heart attack, but there was none of this other damage. Mr. Thomas's internals look like pulp. Zero's were fine, apart from the disintegration of her superior vena cava and the pulmonary artery."
"A dhampir is stronger than a blue blood, with presumably better healing qualities, though we haven't had a chance to test this theory. But Byrnes said a cut on Zero's skin healed in moments, where it would take a blue blood a few minutes for the wound to seal. So if the same agent killed both Zero and David Thomas, then perhaps her body fought the agent better." Ava tapped her lips. "This is a mystery. Did you test his CV levels?"
"Twelve percent." Gibson looked insulted. It was probably the first thing he'd done.
"Twelve? Why, he's barely a blue blood. Mr. Thomas must have been newly infected. He shouldn't even be showing any signs of the craving yet." Which made her wonder... "How did his neighbors know he was a blue blood? He would only just be starting to feel the stir of the hunger."
"I think you'd need to question his neighbors first," Gibson shrugged.
The thought made nervousness stir through her. The sudden shout
of fury from the riot echoed in her ears. "I'm not certain that's a good idea. They weren't very receptive to blue bloods. However...." Kincaid sprang to mind. "I know someone who might be able to coax the information out of them."
For if it wasn't a disease, then someone had killed Mr. Thomas, and with so much outcry today, it was more about narrowing down a suspect pool than trying to find someone with the motivation to murder.
Six
"HERE IS A list of questions," Ava told Kincaid, handing over a sheet of paper. "I want you to ask around Mr. Thomas's neighbors, and discover how his blue blood status became known. He was barely into the first thirst, so he can't have been infected with the craving virus for long. Maybe a month. Maybe two. He might not have even known he was infected until recently."
"And you?"
She looked at him, and he saw the hesitation in her eyes, as if she still saw that vile man throwing blood over her. "I think it best if I stayed here at the guild and discussed the findings of the other deaths with Dr. Gibson, to acquaint myself with the case. The riot's barely settled. Evening's falling. The last thing the residents of Fitzrovia want to see is my pale face."
Kincaid shrugged, examining the list of questions she'd given him. "They're the ones missing out." There was a long moment of silence, and he looked up, realizing her eyes were upon him, a hesitant expression upon her pretty heart-shaped face. "What?"
"Nothing."
He lowered the list. "I'm fairly certain that wasn't 'nothing.' You're the worst liar I've ever encountered." Every hint of thought shifted across her expression with startling clarity. She should never play cards for money.
"No... I just.... Was that a compliment?"
The fact she had to ask made him feel a little angry on her behalf. "Of course it was a compliment. You're beautiful, and kind, and any man should be pleased to see you."
Ava smiled thinly, hurt gleaming in her big, green eyes. "Sometimes it's hard for me to tell, especially when it comes from you, because you're so flippant. And... men generally pay me few compliments. Except for Byrnes," she finished in an exasperated tone, "but one generally takes what he says as a somewhat brutal truth, rather than flirtation, and he was always focused on how clever I was."
"You have feelings for him still."
"I don't even know what I feel," Ava admitted, a considering frown on her face as though she was dissecting the facts of a case, rather than her feelings. "I like Ingrid. And I care for Byrnes. And when I look at the pair of them, I can see how well suited they are. I get this lump in my throat, because seeing how in love they are makes me happy for them...."
"But?"
Ava glanced up from beneath her blonde lashes. "There is also a part of me that aches, and asks 'when is it my turn?' Something horrible happened to me several years ago, and when I escaped, Byrnes was kind to me, and Byrnes is rarely kind to anyone. He accepted me for who I am, and I never felt as though I had to pretend to be someone else with him. But I realized what I feel when he looks at me is safe. And when he looks at Ingrid I see something else, and suddenly I don't know if 'safe' is a big enough word for what I want."
Jaysus. "You want to fall in love."
That right there ought to stop this strange fascination with her. Virgins were forbidden territory. Bluestockings had never caught his attention. But women who were looking to fall in love had to be avoided like the plague.
And yet....
And yet.
Curse her. His eyes narrowed, and he slid his hands into his pockets. Ava was the least foolish woman he'd ever met, despite her fascination with fairy tales. She was everything wrong. Against all his self-imposed rules.
"Ava, far be it from me to comment on your situation, but hopin' to find a man who tolerates your eccentricities ain't bloody good enough. You deserve better than that. You deserve a man who loves you because you babble on about bloody plants, not despite the fact you do. You deserve someone who thinks you hung the moon in the sky, and looks forward—every day—to coming home to you."
Her eyes were wide. "Thank you."
Kincaid looked away, across the foyer of the guild. "Byrnes didn't deserve you."
And now it was her turn to sound uncomfortable. "I know."
He shot her a sharp look.
"He had four years to notice what was beneath his nose. He didn't. Clearly he wasn't the right man for me. I'm starting to see that now. Maybe... maybe it was a good thing?" Her words became a little firmer. "His friendship—and Ingrid's—is important to me. But you're right—you've always been right. I deserve more. I deserve better. I deserve someone who is going to love me for everything I am."
"You'll find him," Kincaid replied, and damn him, but he felt a hot surge of... something flood up inside him.
"In the meantime, I am considering other options," she admitted.
He didn't like those words at all.
"Other options?" he ground out.
"Well, it's no secret the state of my... ah, experience, is significantly limited. And I was talking to Perry at the wedding about the sad status of my life. She proposed an experiment."
"An experiment?" Was she suggesting what he thought she was?
"Are you all right?" Ava peered up at him curiously. "You keep repeating everything I say."
Kincaid stared at her; all those layers of muslin skirts, the way her hair drooped in its chignon, the mass of curls barely tamed by her pins. Trussed up like a porcelain doll, and a thought went through his head: Ava was a pretty pigeon, ripe for plucking.
And some man would take advantage of her.
"Just what, precisely, are you proposin' to set about? An experiment in what?"
Despite her confession of gentlemen avoiding her like the plague, there were men out there who'd not hesitate to snatch her up. Men who'd lie through their teeth just to get her in bed, who'd not take the care she needed, and break her heart without a second thought.
Men who didn't deserve a woman like Ava.
"Well, you don't have to get angry," she said, looking startled. "I'm hardly going to ruin myself. I'm just... curious. I'm a virgin and a spinster, and I think I would like to relieve myself of one of those titles—"
It was exactly what he'd expected. "Are you out of your mind?"
Ava stiffened. "Well, that's somewhat hypocritical coming from a man like you. Need I point out you were escorting a rather imposing young woman in the gardens at the back of a house of pleasure when you came upon me suffering a... a hysterical moment? You might think I was born yesterday, but I know exactly what you intended with her that night."
"Is this because of the wedding?" he asked incredulously.
Now it was her turn to get angry. "It's not because of the wedding in the way you're thinking. But it made me consider where my life is heading. And do you know what the answer to that question is? Nowhere. My life is heading nowhere. All I can see ahead of me are endless years in a laboratory—which is intellectually stimulating, don't get me wrong—but somewhat lacking in warmth. Do you know how long it's been since someone touched me? Do you know how many years have passed since my last kiss? Which, needless to say was disappointing, to say the least. I want love. I want something else. And if I cannot find love, then why not settle for passion?"
Jaysus. Kincaid stared at her, the vein in his temple throbbing in time to the heated pulse in his cock. He'd always liked Ava, but to see her temper aroused lit everything inside him on fire. He wanted to kiss her.
Right here.
Right now.
Despite the fact they were standing in the middle of the guild.
"Do you have some objection?" Ava demanded, tilting that pointed chin up.
Not an objection, no. Not to exploring her curiosity, and learning what passion felt like. The problem was... where would she look for it? "How do you even know you could trust a stranger? What if the bloodlust overcame you and you went for his throat? And he wasn't expecting it?"
Ava's lips thinned, pinkness creeping
into her cheeks. "I haven't given the idea a great deal of thought, I'll admit, but... in my brief experience with men, I've found one type of lust precludes the other."
"And what is your brief experience?"
She stared at him.
And suddenly he knew exactly what she was thinking about. That night in the Garden of Eden lingered between them. His breath exploded out of him. "Me. You were thinking of me, and what happened that night."
"Nothing did happen."
Kincaid ground his teeth together and crossed his arms over his chest. "Deny it all you want. There was a moment that night when I was tempted to kiss you, a moment where you touched me, and you were thinking about it too. And let's be honest. Ever since then you've not been shy in staring at me when you think I'm not looking. Pretend all you like, kitten. I know you shiver when I touch you. I know you blush every time I look at you. I know you think wicked thoughts whenever I flirt with you. It's written all over your face, in the catch of your breath, the way your cheeks flush with heat." He reached out and caressed said cheek. "The way they've pinkened now."
Ava broke free from beneath his touch, taking several paces away from him with her arms wrapped around her middle as she sucked in an enormous breath. It wasn't a rejection. He turned to watch her, and she suddenly spun around, looking like a startled doe. Her eyes were black, a sure sign she felt the press of the hunger rise within her. Animal passions, she'd called it once. Bloodlust. Or just plain lust. He'd slowly learned the difference.
Do not do it.
Do not say it.
"If you want to lose your virginity," Kincaid snarled, his cock giving a tempting stir behind the flap of his trousers as he took a step closer to her, the distance between them evaporating into a heated space. "Then you don't need a stranger. I'm right here."
Ava's eyes widened. "What?"
"I'll give you time to think about it," he snapped, despite the thought this was a terrible idea. Kincaid waved the list of questions at her, feeling both utterly furious and aroused. "If you want passion, then I can give you passion, and you won't have to worry about what a stranger might do to you. It's a perfectly logical, rational decision, therefore it should appeal perfectly."
