But getting into his mind and stealing his thoughts? Well, that was robbery.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated hoarsely. “God, I keep saying that, don’t I.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” He shrugged. “Hell, less than twenty-four hours ago, we didn’t even know each other existed. Why would you feel guilty about anything when it comes to me?”
Lyric felt herself go totally still. And even though there was a warning voice ricocheting through her head like a stray bullet, she heard herself say:
“You’re the first male I’ve noticed in a very, very long time.”
Okay, that was a half-truth. He was the first male she’d everreallynoticed. For all the attractive fighters she was around on a regular basis, and all thearistocrats who hung out with Shuli, and even the two she’d dated for a while, there had never been much resonance to any of them.
“I don’t know why you’re different,” she said in a low voice. “And I don’t even care.”
Dev glanced down at the cigarettes in his hand. Then he put them in his pocket and walked over to his bed. At the little table that held his lamp and charging station, he pulled out the drawer and riffled around. Straightening, he didn’t close things up, but went into his bathroom. There were other sounds of him moving things around.
When he came back out, he had a pen in his hand, and he walked straight by her. Unspooling a paper towel from its roll, he bent over the counter where the serving dishes of their meal were still sitting out.
After he finished writing something, he put the pen down and approached her. “This doesn’t have to be a one-night-stand thing. If you don’t want it to be.”
When she opened her mouth, he shook his head sharply. “Nope. Don’t answer now. Go home and think about it. And if you decide you want more than tonight…”
He took her hand and pressed a folded-up square into it. “Here’s my number. You call me and we’ll have dinner tomorrow evening. Like a proper date, without all kinds of naked happening and no gunfire in the background.”
She looked down at the wedge of paper towel. “How are you like this.”
“Like what?”
“After everything tonight…” Her eyes lifted to his. “Most guys would have run in the opposite direction when I stopped the sex. And they never would have gotten to the…”
“The shooting part?”
“Yeah. How are you not asking questions.”
His eyes grew remote. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yes,” she said urgently. “I do.”
It was a while before he answered, and when he did, his voice was so deep, it was nearly inaudible.
“No, you don’t.” He went over to his dresser. “And don’t forget your scarf.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Destination. They needed a fucking destination with adequate cover, sufficient camouflage, and medical supplies.
On the far side of the dumpster, L.W. jogged through the frozen slush with the aristocrat on his shoulders, trying to triangulate their position relative to the Brotherhood’s secret garage. If he could get over there? He had the code to access the bulletproof interior, and he could pull the rip cord on an evac for Shuli.
The male was hanging on, going by the breathing on L.W.’s biceps, but he was losing blood stuck-pig style—
Down at the end of the alley, alesserdropped into their path from a fire escape, like something fromSpider-Man 22.
As the thing lifted its arm and a gun flashed, L.W. tried to get to one of his autoloaders—
The discharge of a bullet was loud as a clap of lightning in his ear, and for a split second, he thought someone was behind them. But then it came again—
Shuli was shooting, and his aim was good, the slayer ducking and returning fire before jumping into an inset doorway—
L.W. flattened against the wall of the building on the left, and decided Shuli’d been right. They had just done this last week. Then again, they’d done this last month, too. And the month before that.
