The Hunt - Megan Shepherd Page 0,70

desire, and love, and all those emotions that are denied to you. You never wanted me to be free. You want me to be yours.” She turned her hand palm up to show the markings on her skin. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice my ring finger? You modified the markings to look like a diamond ring.”

He went quiet. His eyes went from her hand to her face and back again.

“You’ve studied humanity more than any other Kindred,” she continued. “You know what a diamond ring means to us. To have and to hold.”

The muscles of his neck were tensing. He picked up the gloves again, tugging one on stiffly. “You understand nothing.”

“Don’t I?” She stood. “You might be wearing a mask, but I can still see beneath it.”

He turned on her fast enough to make her breath go still. He would never hurt her, she knew, but it was impossible not to be intimidated by him.

He leaned in until he could whisper against her ear.

“Can you? Well then, let’s both drop our masks.” He closed his eyes. The muscles of his face shifted beneath his skin. Tension drained away. Jaw softened. When he opened his eyes, they had cleared into the gray storm clouds that hovered just over his irises.

He blinked.

“This is bigger than what I want, and what you want.” His voice was rounder, more insistent, and it made her blood pool in her heart. “I suspected all along that you were not being honest with me, but I did not want to believe it. And I don’t blame you for wanting to cheat us, after we have mistreated you. But now, you must agree to do this the correct way. Then, once this is over, I’ll take you back to your solar system myself, so we can both learn the truth. And if the algorithm is right, and there is only a hole in the sky where your home used to be, you will truly know that there is no other place for you than with me.”

A shiver ran down her back. “Don’t talk like that.”

But he leaned in closer. “You accuse me of wanting to feel lesser emotions. You’re right. Is it such a crime to want to feel? I do not understand why we must always be at odds. Why we cannot be partners in proving humanity’s intelligence. Why that partnership cannot cross into what I feel in my heart whenever I think of you. Why you cannot love me, and why you feel such contempt for the fact that I love you.”

His lips grazed her ear on his last words. She drew in a tight breath, electricity from his touch shooting through her nerves. He turned his head just slightly, until the side of his face pressed hers. “You do not give up,” he said. “And so I will not give up either. Even when it goes against logic.”

He wanted to kiss her. She could feel it in every move he made.

And she wanted him to. She wanted to put aside the anger, the betrayal, the questions over the future. She wanted to forget about the murder on her hands.

But she looked away.

“No,” she said. “There’s a third way. You say you respect us, so prove it. Help me do this my way.”

His hands flexed against the wall indecisively, as though part of him still wanted to kiss her right there. His face was warm against hers.

“I cannot condone cheating.”

“You can. Because if you truly love me, then the only way that I could come to love you back is if we’re complete equals.”

She let her lips graze his ear and felt his jaw tighten in response. He let out a breath and then pulled away, hands falling to his sides. He paced quickly, one hand scrubbing over his face in indecision. For a minute, she almost regretted using him like this. But then he snatched up the other glove from the table and tugged it on, his movements tight and angry.

“Does this mean you’ll help?” She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice.

He gave a reluctant nod. “Yes, though you have no idea what you’re asking. There are complications . . .” His voice was tense, and he dropped whatever he was going to say. “Just rest. Your mind needs it. I’ll return shortly.”

The door slid closed behind him.

The panel hummed, and the weight of solitude pressed in from all sides. She pressed a hand to her lips, where she could still feel