Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
“Anythin’ on your mind?” Blade asked.
Will smashed another fist into the punching bag, earning a grunt from Blade. He followed it up with a left-right-left combination, his knuckles burning. “Not a thing,” he grunted, unleashing an uppercut that drove the bag—and Blade—back a foot.
“Hold.” Blade held up a hand, breathing hard. “Need a moment. You bin at this an ’our. Not all of us ’as the stamina these days.”
Will raked a hand through his hair. He was barely winded.
And still on edge. The memory of Lena’s lithe little body was imprinted on his skin.
He’d spent half the night with a cock-stand, unable to keep his mind on his job.
Rip had been prowling the rooftops of the rookery with him, keeping an eye on things.
Finally, the other man had told him to buy a whore and get his mind back on duty before stalking off in disgust.
No woman. Not for him. He should never have gone to her last night. Never given in to the temptation.
He needed to ease the pressure the only way he knew how. A safe way.
“You want a bout in the ring?”
“Absolutely not.” Blade looked up from where he was bent over, his hands on his knees. “Don’t know what’s set you off this mornin’, but I ain’t goin’ anywhere near those fists today.”
Will turned, snatching at his towel. He loosened his collar and dragged the towel over the back of his neck.
The urge to ask Blade for advice was nearly overwhelming.
But Blade had his own worries, his own concerns.
The last thing he needed was Will telling him he’d nearly lost his mind last night and fucked his wife’s sister.
Or about the curious letter he’d found on Lena and the threat of Colchester.
Neither of them could afford to have Blade drawn into a confrontation with the Echelon.
Blade raked his light brown hair out of his eyes.
It seemed to be darkening with every passing day, courtesy of Honoria’s vaccinated blood.
Will scowled. He’d been the one Blade had turned to when he feared he was close to becoming a vampire; the one who was supposed to kill him before that happened.
He could thank Honoria for taking away the burden of that heavy task, but now another problem loomed.
Straightening up, Blade sighed. “Don’t look at me with those bloody eyes. Fine. Mebbe a quick bout. Just remember, I ain’t whoever’s been givin’ you grief.”
Will kicked off his boots and stepped onto the soft carpeting, tossing his shirt over a nearby chair.
Blade stripped down too, rubbing at his knuckles.
Though shorter than Will by nearly a foot, he was lean and well-muscled—and dangerously quick.
There wasn’t a trick he didn’t know, and no sign of the knife wound he’d taken.
The craving virus had healed it completely.
“Ain’t seen much of you this week,” Blade said, drawing his fists up.
“Been busy.”
Blade stepped forward with a right hook that Will bobbed out of the way to avoid. “Who is she? You’ve never ’ad a woman as I can recall.”
“Not got one now.” He ducked a tricky combination and slammed his fist forward, under Blade’s guard.
Blade staggered back, grinding his teeth together. “Fine. Let’s just pretend you’re strung up tighter ’an a lute for no reason. Only thing as leads to that is woman trouble.”
Will ducked another right hook and stepped straight into Blade’s left fist. The punch snapped his head back, but it lacked the force it once had. Years ago, Blade’d been able to take him down to the mats at nearly every session. Now he was lucky if he could do it once a month.
Will shook his head and dodged a foot that Blade snapped toward his face. He barreled forward, his shoulder driving into Blade’s midriff and his arms wrapping around him. Both of them went down hard.
Blade locked his legs around his waist and flipped him. Will took another punch to the face and tasted blood. Kicking Blade off, he rolled to his feet and wiped his mouth.
“You’re gettin’ slower.”
Blade’s eyes narrowed and he drove a fist into Will’s side. The breath expelled from Will’s chest and he grunted, avoiding the next blow by an inch.
“Slow enough?” Blade snarled.
Will looked up, his blood boiling around his ears. “You have to stop drinkin’ her blood.”
The words fell into the suddenly silent room.
“What the ’ell do you mean by that?” Blade asked, his hands lowering.
Cursing the reckless urge that had made him blurt it out, he shook his head. “Naught.”
“Aye, you do. You know exactly what you mean.” Blade stared at the back of his hands, stretching out his fingers.
“Me skin’s gettin’ darker. Me hair too. And I’m gettin’ weaker.
Weak and slow.” Barking a laugh, he ran his hands through his hair.
“Three years ago I’d ’ave killed to be more human.
They says you ought be careful what you wish for.
” Sucking in a deep breath, he admitted, “I’ve only bin takin’ enough of her blood for her not to be suspicious.
The rest I drink cold, out o’ the icebox.
Honoria thinks me CV levels have reached a plateau.
” He looked down. “If the Echelon finds out, we’re dead. ”
Will nodded. The Devil of Whitechapel’s reputation was the only thing keeping them out of the rookery. If they thought he had a weakness, they’d be on him like a pack of dogs.
“How long ’ave you known?”
“A year. Once I started beatin’ you regular-like, I began to wonder,” Will replied.
“Shit.” Blade turned around and stalked off the mats. “I bin thinkin’, maybe I oughta go back to drinkin’ normal blood for a bit, get me CV levels up. But ’ow do I tell ’er that? She’s obsessed with curin’ me.”
Will followed him, his muscles still distended. He wanted more work in the ring before Lena arrived for their lesson—if she arrived—but it was clear Blade was done with it. “The last thing I can offer is advice on women.”
Blade barked a laugh. “God’s truth.” He snatched his shirt up and tugged it over his head. Unlike Will, his skin was dry. A blue blood didn’t sweat.
“But you don’t need to worry ’bout the Echelon. You ain’t the only blue blood we got now. There’s Rip and Charlie. And me.” Will picked up his towel.
“And what’ll the Echelon see? A rogue blue blood with a mech arm, a boy strugglin’ to control his blood urges, and a beast that ought to be caged.”
It was the truth, but it still rankled. Will slung the towel over his shoulders and hung onto both ends. “Might be true. But remember you ain’t alone. They come for you and they’ve got to go through me first.”
“You won’t be here forever.”
Will stiffened. “Didn’t know I were leavin’.”
Blade gave him a knowing look. “You need more than this, Will. I think you’re just startin’ to figure that out yourself.”
Will opened his mouth to retort, but Blade’s head cocked. Will heard the sound the second after. Skirts. Swishing on the stairs.
“Honoria.” Blade looked around guiltily. “She can’t know.”
“She ain’t no fool.”
“Not yet,” Blade snarled and moved to open the door. “Not ’til I work somethin’ out.”
Will turned, dragging the towel over his chest. Behind him, the door opened and Honoria’s scent bled into the room. With a slight aftertaste of honeysuckle. His gut clenched. Lena. Directly on Honoria’s heels. She’d come for the lesson.
A part of him hadn’t expected her to show up. Not after last night. With guilt and desire burning a ragged hole in his insides, he wiped the scowl from his face and reached for his shirt.
“Goodness,” Honoria murmured to Blade. “Is that blood on your knuckles?”
“Aye. Will forgot to duck.”
His gaze went straight past the pair of them. Lena hovered in the doorway, looking every inch the society lady in lemon yellow. Her hair was artfully curled over one shoulder, hiding the bite mark on her neck, and a jaunty little bonnet set off the gleaming highlights in her dark hair.
Lena’s gaze dropped, darting over the shirt in his hands and his bare chest before she looked away. A frozen little smile was etched on her full mouth. Her defense, he realized. The way she hid from the world, from her own family even. From him.
Her confession the night before made his chest ache. He’d wanted to go after Colchester with an ax, but the sound of her pain tore something deep inside him. He’d crushed her close, trying to hold the hurt away, but it was bone deep.
Alone. She’d been alone through all of it. Unable to tell her family—to burden her sister. Keeping that pretty little smile fixed in place as if nothing had ever happened when deep inside the wound festered and grew.
He tore his shirt over his head as Honoria lifted on her toes and pressed her lips affectionately against Blade’s.
It was too tempting right now to grab her by the shoulders and ask her where she’d been when Lena was lying bleeding in an alley.
He knew it wasn’t her fault; circumstances had been what they were then, but the fury in him didn’t recognize that.
Instinct fought logic and he’d been too long a wolf at heart not to go with his gut. He had to get out of here.
“Where are you going, Will?” Honoria asked, catching his movement out of the corner of her eye. The smile she wore was almost the same as Lena’s, but far more genuine.
“Got a lesson with Lena.”
Lena’s head jerked up and crimson infused her cheeks. She looked him in the eye, her chin tilted with icy disdain. Cool. Untouchable. Carefree.
With the razor edge of hurt souring her scent.
“Don’t you want to know about that letter you brought me?” Honoria asked. “I’ve made some progress with the code.”
The brief flash of color drained out of Lena’s face and her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Later,” he said. “After me lesson.”
Honoria murmured something to Blade as he strode to the door. Lena leaped out of his way as if afraid he’d actually touch her. Too late for that, sweetheart. He’d had his hands, his lips, his teeth all over her.
And it couldn’t happen again.