“Turn me,” she said to McKell—as she had the thousand other times since he’d said those damning words. You’re the one infected.
“We don’t know what happened to Johnny,” he replied. Again. And just like before, he banged on the glass panel in their cell. “Tell us about Johnny, damn it!” But he’d warned the agents away, so no one responded.
She’d never seen McKell so panicked. And that he was for her, well, if she’d still harbored any doubts about his feelings for her, she no longer did. He wanted to change her, not because he viewed vampires as superior, but because he loved her and feared losing her.
A sudden pain tore through her chest, and she groaned.
McKell rushed back to her side, cupping her jaw and forcing her to look up at him. Black dots were winking in front of her, weaving together, forming a solid wall.
“Ava.”
“Turn me. You’re the one who insisted.”
“I know. But … I’m so afraid. I would rather you infect a thousand others and live than risk poisoning you with my blood.”
“You won’t kill—”
“You don’t know that. Not for sure. We have no idea how Johnny responded after the initial exposure, and I think we both remember the way he screamed.”
Yeah. Johnny’s pain-filled scream still haunted her. “I love you, and I’m willing to risk anything to be with you,” she said, and she meant it. Maybe it had taken nearly losing him to realize the truth, but she did. She loved him.
“No. Besides everything else, you’re not ready. You said so yourself before we got here.” His grip tightened on her. “There has to be another way to save you. There just has to.”
A terrible thought hit her. What if she’d exposed him to the disease? They’d kissed, and he’d drunk from her. “Oh, God, McKell. What if you’re sick?”
His hard expression didn’t change. “I’ve been watching for a symptom. Nothing so far.”
She’d lied to him, she realized. She wouldn’t risk “anything.” She wouldn’t risk him. She would rather die. And she just might. Because there was no way in hell she would sleep with anyone else. Even to save herself.
Tears burned her eyes, eyes that now felt like they’d been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Another symptom for her? What did it matter? she thought next, nearing hysteria. Finally she’d committed to someone, and she was going to lose him.
“Ava, damn it!” McKell punched the cot, right beside her temple, and she bounced up at the force he used. “I love you more than I love myself. Do you hear me? I wasn’t exaggerating earlier. I love you so damn much, I hurt. There has to be a way to fix this. To save you and keep you human.”
Another pain tore through her, and she squeezed her lids shut. That didn’t help, even a little. Only managed to hurt her more. To hold her cries inside, she bit her lip until she tasted blood. Rotten blood. She gagged, and McKell patted her back, leaning closer to her. Gradually she became aware of a gnawing, gut-wrenching hunger … of McKell’s divine scent …
A taste, one taste, she thought. Of his skin, his blood, his organs. That would ease the pain. Surely.
“Ava?”
Her eyes widened when she realized the direction of her thoughts. Oh, God. She wanted to eat him.
Gasping in horror, she flattened her palms on his chest and pushed him. “Go! Please! Go!” The tears rained in streaks of acid, scalding her checks. “You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Go to the queen. Kill her. Because if you stay here, I’ll try and kill you. And I would hate myself, McKell. Please.” The last left her on a choking sob.
If he replied, she would never know. The voice … consuming her, becoming all that she knew.
You stupid bitch! You weren’t supposed to become infected. Now I can’t use your body.
Ava found herself wanting to apologize. She loved that voice. It was the calm in the storm, her anchor. She frowned. No, McKell was her anchor. She hated that voice and she—was edging toward McKell, teeth sharpening, she realized. Gasping again, she reared back.
“I’ll fix this, sweetheart,” McKell said flatly. “I’ll fix this, I swear. I have no life without you.”
Thirty
McKell kept an eye on Ave as he paced through their cell. She hadn’t leapt at him and attacked, but she was poised to do so at any moment. He could have busted out and probably should have. He’d drunk from her, he was strong enough, wasn’t sickening, but he couldn’t force himself to leave her.
Soon she would die.
No! Ava loved him. She’d offered everything he’d ever wanted. The love, of course, plus acceptance, challenge, and understanding. And then, a heartbeat later, that had all been taken away. She truly was dying, slowly wasting away. Soon she would kill. There was hunger in her eyes. Hunger for human flesh. He would give all that he was, even that, to save her.
Sexual intercourse and the exchange of blood, and possibly saliva, were the only ways to pass the disease. He could now be infected himself, as she’d guessed, but he honestly didn’t think he was. Hours had passed, a wretched infinity, but he was fine. Still strong. Like Bride’s, his blood must hold the cure. Except, the disease always adapted quickly. Because he’d been exposed, because he was well, he could drain himself into Ava and still not save her.
He could actually do more harm than good. Johnny’s scream …
There was only one thing left for McKell to do. He had to reverse time, and he had to do it now. Whatever was necessary, he had to stop Ava from becoming infected. That was the only way.
If he did manage to reverse time, though, she would no longer love him. She wouldn’t see him stabbed, wouldn’t realize her heart belonged to him, and might try to kick him out of her life. If he didn’t, she would die. So really, there was no contest. He simply had to reverse time.
Stopping time was easy. He simply thought, Halt, and it obeyed. Stopping the people around him, so that they didn’t realize time was passing, was easy, too. He simply thought, Freeze, and they obeyed. Making time whizz by faster, he could do that, too. But for the last hour, he’d been thinking, Reverse and Rewind and Backward, yet nothing had happened. He was running out of words to say, things to try.
You can do this. “Time bends to my will,” he gritted out. As Ava would say, “Time is my bitch.” Nothing. No reaction.
Ava watched him, licked her lips.