“Weird? I don’t understand.”
“As you know, we can’t take a sample of Schön infected blood because the virus is alive and won’t leave the victim’s body if there’s not a living being nearby. So filling a vial is impossible. To test, we have to feed the vampire blood to an already diseased individual.”
“And were you able to do that?” The only living victim—besides Johnny—was the human from the bar. That she knew of, that is.
“No, but let me backtrack a little. We were able to test McKell’s blood on its own to determine if it was like Bride’s. And in some ways, it is. Much more so than the other vampires we’ve tested.”
She’d had no idea other vampires had submitted—willingly or not—to AIR testing. So what the hell else didn’t she know? “That’s good, right?”
“Yes and no.”
More non-answers. Wonderful. Ava fell against the back of the chair, and the stupid thing flattened like a cot. She barely cut off her yelp of surprise. “Could you please give me straight facts?” she asked, shoving her tumbling curls from her face.
“Bride’s blood healed human disease, but left the blood … untainted, for lack of a better word. Still human. McKell’s rejuvenates human blood, as well, only his … takes over. It’s so strong, so potent, that the blood it’s mixed with becomes vampire, as well.”
If she’d been standing, she would have fallen. “So anyone who drinks his blood will become a vampire?” She rubbed her throat, mind racing. Had she had a sip? A single drop?
“Yes. Human, animal, doesn’t matter. Whoever ingests his blood becomes vampiric. Just like in those old movies. I’d compare him to a human man with too much testosterone. What makes him vampire practically seeps from his pores.”
Panic bloomed, and it felt as if thousands of little needles were poking at her. If she’d had a single drop … No, no. She thought back. He’d sucked hers, but she’d never tasted his. More than that, she was still human, normal.
Slowly she relaxed. Good. Okay. Fine. But she would be very careful in the future, never forgetting what could happen if a kiss spun out of control. She didn’t want to become a vampire. Ever. To only be allowed to venture out at night? Even McKell hated that. Sure, he was looking for a way to live successfully in the sunlight, but what if he never found it?
And to only ever be able to drink blood? McKell’s blood, at that, since they were supposedly mates. There’d be no more butterscotch for her. Not without sickening. No, no, and no!
On the plus side, her always aching body added, McKell might finally view her as good enough for him. Ava frowned. She didn’t want to be considered good enough simply because she had grown fangs. She wanted to be good enough for who she was and what she’d made of herself. On her own.
Not that she was thinking about dating McKell. Or sleeping with him. Well, she might be thinking about sleeping with him—stupid fantasies of writhing together, naked and moaning, never left her head—but that didn’t mean she’d ever follow through. Last time they’d ventured down that road, she’d found only disaster. He’d stopped abruptly, left, and now she had no idea where he was or what he was doing.
“Still there, Sans?”
“Yes. Was just thinking, sorry. So, are you going to feed McKell’s blood to Johnny?”
“We’re still debating. I think I told you that Johnny’s already had some of Bride’s blood, but another thing we’ve discovered is that vampire blood doesn’t always mix well with other vampire blood.”
What exactly did “doesn’t always mix well” mean? The recipient exploded? And did it have to do with vampire mating habits?
Before she could ask, Mia added, “Another problem with McKell’s sample is that, what if his blood doesn’t destroy the Schön disease? Then we’ll have a Schön-infected vampire who’s stronger than ever and in need of drinking blood as well as infecting others to stay strong.”
Good point. “So what would happen if McKell was infected by the Schön?”
“Don’t know. And I’m afraid to find out.”
A knock sounded at Ava’s door. She popped to her feet, heart suddenly pounding against her ribs. McKell? Surely not. Like Noelle, he could now let himself in. That didn’t stop hope from sprouting wings and flying through her.
God, she had to get herself under control where that man was concerned.
“Thanks for the information, Agent Snow.”
“Welcome. I’ll expect a new sample ASAP.”
“You’ll get it.” Again, maybe.
They severed the connection. Ava placed the phone on a side table she’d spent months saving for and padded to the door. McKell’s strong, beautiful image filled the ID screen, a relieving déjà vu of the last time he’d visited. He was here, and he was fine. And as always when she spotted him, her skin tingled.
She pressed a few buttons, fingers trembling, and the door slid open. Suddenly, only air separated them. And such sweet air it was. He smelled of the earth, like rain and crisp leaves, yet there was just a hint of butterscotch. On purpose? He wore a fresh black T-shirt, a pair of black slacks, and both fit him perfectly.
His dark hair shagged around his face, but it wasn’t tangled. The strands were brushed to a blue-black shine. Clearly he’d just come from an enzyme shower. Whose? she thought, hands fisting.
“Why didn’t you just walk in?” she asked. She wouldn’t throw accusations around. She’d ask nicely. She’d taunted him with her phone call, made it seem like she was going back on her word to mess around with him and only him. Sure, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, a way to show him two could stray. Now … she would just have to deal with the consequences.
“I’m being polite,” he replied.
So he was polite now? That was new. “We have a few things to discuss,” she said, happy that she sounded calm, assured.
“Then we will discuss them.” He strode inside, a bag slung over his shoulder. That bag, big and bulky, banged into her chest and knocked her backward. No apology was issued.
Frowning, she followed him into her bedroom. The frown faded as she became enthralled by a vision of McKell stripping, crawling into bed, cocking a finger at her, silently commanding her to join him. Enthralled, yeah, but she panicked, too, because she was already edging down that road again, the one where she forgot the rest of the world and thought only of sex and blood.
He tossed the bag on the floor and faced her. Questions about his blood could wait. Questions about the shower had to wait, too.
“What is that?” She jabbed a finger at the bag.
He squared his shoulders, as if preparing for a fight. “My things.”
Duh. “Why did you bring your things here?” Don’t say you’ll be staying. Don’t you dare say you’ll be staying.
“I’ll be staying for a while.” His chin lifted, his violet eyes blazed. Just then he was total determination. “You know, moving in.”
She shook her head, the panic rising in a tide of bile and ice. She’d never allowed a man to move in with her, not even for a single night, and she never would. Not even this one. Especially not this one. Resisting him was already a losing battle. If they were together every minute of every day, and every sultry night, she wouldn’t just lose; she would end up in flames, a pile of ash.
“I live alone,” she squeaked. “Always.”
He crossed his arms over his chest a familiar action that caused his shirt to strain against his biceps. Those perfectly defined, sinewy biceps. She licked her lips, and his still blazing gaze tracked every millimeter of movement. He’s killing me …
“I’m tired of racing from my place to yours, then yours to mine.”
First, he’d done that once, maybe twice. Second, “You have a place?”
He nodded stiffly.
“And that’s where you showered?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. Nicely, as planned.
“No.” His face scrunched with disgust. “I used one of those public places, since I didn’t want to arrive here dirty. Thankfully, though, I’ll never have to use one again. Now that I live with you.”
Even her relief that he hadn’t used some other girl’s shower didn’t stop her from yelling, “No, no, no.”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“No!” She stomped her foot.
A mix of anger and confusion flashed over his features before his expression smoothed, and he regarded her with adoring patience. “Be reasonable, Ava, darling. We’re working together. Helping each other. Every minute we spend together is for the greater good.”
Darling, he’d called her, nearly melting her. He was up to something. She knew it, but that adoration … that patience … as if he was willing to do anything to spend a single moment in her presence …
Stay strong. “Greater good, huh? How?”
“What did you learn about Johnny?” An answer in the form of a question.
He couldn’t know that. Yet. “Johnny’s sick.” And Ava did need to guard McKell. Oh, God. She was caving, trying to talk herself into saying yes to cohabitating.
“So that was the queen I encountered?”
“Yes.” Might as well tell him the rest. “And now she wants you.”
“Me?” He blinked but otherwise remained unconcerned. “Why would she—wait. How do you know she wants me?”
Now was not the time for that discussion. How would he react if he knew she’d spoken to her diseased ex? And, really, having him here, for a little while and only a little while, might not be so bad. Guarding him was important. She could protect him from the Schön queen. Be there, ready to strike, to save the day.
Talk about earning respect.
“I’ll let you stay,” she said with difficulty. “On one condition.”
He grinned as if he’d just discovered a human blood farm. “I’ve noticed that with you, there is always a condition.”
Hey! “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear, patient and adoring again. “Now, tell me about this condition.”
A tremor slid the length of her spine. How was she supposed to resist him when he did things like that? “I, well, need another sample of your blood.”
“Why?” he asked, arm falling back to his side.
“For AIR.”
“Again, why?”
“They’re looking for a cure for the Schön disease.”
“And they think my blood will help?”
Did he know how powerful his blood was? Did he know how easily he could turn others into vampires? Probably not. Otherwise, he might have turned Ava already. Despite the fact that feeding her that blood would wed them permanently.
Actually, no. That didn’t fit his personality. He wasn’t the type to sneak around to get what he wanted. He stated plainly, issued demands, expected those around him to obey, and that was one of the things she liked most about him.
“They won’t know until they do a few more tests. Which means they need a new sample.”
“It’s my blood. Mine.”
“I know. I need it, though. For the greater good.”
A flicker of frustration, quickly masked. “Fine. You may have another sampling. You don’t need to stab me for it, do you?” As he spoke, his voice tightened, and understanding crystalized in his eyes, lightening the violet to a rich lavender. “That’s why you stabbed me before, isn’t it?”
Uh-oh. Caught. “Let’s leave the past in the past, shall we?”
“I will if you will,” he said pointedly.
Meaning what? She had to forget the inferiority complex he’d given her? “Very well.” Maybe. He was as new to this mate business as she was, and commitment was the scariest thing on the planet. Not that they were committed, she added before any part of her could latch onto the thought of permanence. So, of course they had taken jabs at each other. Forgiveness should be easy. Should be.
“Thank you.” The grin he rewarded her with could have melted a frozen bar of chocolate. “I must admit, I expected more of a fight from you.”
“Welcome. And I’m not unreasonable, McKell.”
Melted chocolate? No, that grin widened and turned him into a living, breathing butterscotch sundae. “Shall we seal this deal with a kiss?”
The mere suggestion shot lava-hot bolts of lightning through her. “Not yet.” Yes, yes, yes. “First, a few ground rules about Chez Sans.”
Good-bye, grin. “I’ve already agreed to your condition.”
“Yes, and now you need to agree to the rules.” If she didn’t voice them now, she never would. And was she truly talking with such speed? Trying to get to that kiss? “One, no leaving your shit around. Two, no walking around naked. Three, no guests. Four, you sleep on the couch. Five, no making calls and jacking up my phone bill. Six, don’t ask me to add anyone else to my security ID. It’s not gonna happen. Seven, don’t leave crumbs of any kind anywhere. Eight, you have to pay rent. Nine, my stuff is my stuff. Leave it alone. Ten, no killing anyone or even drinking from anyone—like, say, delivery boys—on the premises.”
He listened while tapping his foot. “Is that all?”
She thought about it, a snap of time that seemed to last forever, then nodded. “Yes.” Now how about that kiss …
