Chapter 8
Jen checked her figure in the mirror for the fiftieth time.
Lord, she hadn’t been on a date in a dog’s age.
The truth was, she didn’t have date clothes.
The closest thing was this red dress she had worn to her cousin’s wedding.
The skirt was just long enough to cover the top of her thigh-highs, but if she crossed her legs too quickly or sat down without putting thought into it, they and her garters would possibly show to all and sundry.
She had found that out at the wedding and had spent the whole day and night gluing the dress to her backside and thighs with her hands.
But tonight … perhaps she wouldn’t be doing so much of that.
The memory of how strongly Kin had reacted to her lingerie stuck in her mind.
It was a memory thrilling enough to give her chills of anticipation as she leaned in to match lipstick with her dress.
Perhaps it was dangerous to anticipate tempting a Morphate, but perhaps that danger was what made her feel so alive.
And honestly, these past two days had been like waking up out of a coma. A coma she hadn’t known she was in.
Or maybe she had, but hadn’t thought she deserved any better.
It was strange walking out of the building she had been limited to for so long. She honestly would have been too intimidated if Kincaid had not been right beside her, his hand at the back of her waist.
As they walked the vast streets of Philadelphia with its old historic buildings contrasting so sharply with the high-rises that had finally been allowed to surpass the top of William Penn’s head on the City Hall building.
But the historic places had fared far better than the newer ones when the City had fallen Dark and into the hands of the disrespectful and disreputable.
It was clear, though, that on both fronts a lot of work had taken place in the effort to restore the City to its former glory.
“It is much more difficult to restore the old infrastructure of such a vast city than it is, perhaps, to start all new. It takes a lot of money, time, and man-hours. But the history in this City was left to die … and living in it now I find that such a shame.”
“If I can ask, where did you find the money for this? And for the lab?”
“A lot of it was federally granted. At least the government was that kind. The rest was cultivated through some wise investments and investment groups who wanted a foot in the new City when it finally develops. The CEOs that are not prejudiced against us are very smart. They can see the strength of the Morphates’ future.
They can see we are going to become a powerful point of interest in this world.
” He frowned. “Provided we don’t get in our own way. ”
She knew what he meant by that, so she didn’t ask him to elaborate.
“Even humans can be very instinct driven,” she said carefully. “Yet we’ve found a way to flourish. I have faith that Morphates can do the same.”
“You have far more optimism than I do,” he said grimly.
“Perhaps. But let’s try something new,” she said with sudden brightness.
“Let’s not talk about work or Morphates for the length of dinner.
I accept there’s no getting around the topic completely since it’s so much of our lives, but let’s try to talk about the other things that make us who and what we are.
Or even who we were, before all of this began.
We’re both still there. We just haven’t taken us out for air much these past seven years. ”
The suggestion ought to have rubbed him the wrong way.
After all, what was the use of dredging up what he no longer had the luxury of being?
But perhaps she was right. Perhaps part of the problem was that he had done nothing but live, breathe, and eat being changed into a Morphate.
And like any complex job, it could swallow you up if you let it.
“I accept.”
His graveness made her chuckle softly.
“It’s not heart surgery, Kincaid. It’s relaxation. Relaxaaaa-tion.” She drew out the “a” as if he needed to be taught how to say the word. “I think part of the problem here is that you’ve forgotten how to relate to the human in you.”
Kin bit back a mean retort. It made him frown darkly.
He wasn’t that kind of man, was he? The kind who whined about his hard knocks and blamed everyone else for the shit in his life?
So perhaps he’d had some cause, but lately …
lately he’d begun to realize he might have been wasting precious time doing so.
But then again, all he had was time. Maybe he could afford a few years of wallowing.
That idea really grated. He wasn’t a wallower. He’d never been the “poor me” type. He’d kicked ass and taken names, goddammit. And he’d been doing the same thing since walking into Dark Philly. But personally … he’d been wallowing. Seething in this idea of vengeance.
“I … I used to fish.”
Jena couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d smacked her on the ass. The last thing she could picture the kinetic, aggressive man beside her doing was standing around for hours fishing.
“What kind of fish?”
“Marlin,” he said with a grin.
“Of course,” she said, laughing brightly.
“My brother and I would do a charter once a year, down off Costa Rica or Cancun … sometimes Mexico. We’d combine traveling with fishing, two weeks of every year just to cut away from it all.”
“Hot sun, beer, and the boys.”
“Yeah, and the biggest damn fish to be found.”
“And you haven’t been in seven years?”
Not that Nick hadn’t asked him to. Every year he pressed him to go.
“I didn’t want to go. I liked remembering what it was. Not sure it’d be a challenge anymore, strong as we are.”
“So go shark fishing, Kin,” she said with a little exasperation. “Get heavy-gauge equipment, find some great white sharks or something and make it a challenge.”
Kin took her arm in hand, turning her suddenly into the aggressive leanness of his body.
“Why is everything such an easy answer for you?” he demanded on a rough growl as he pressed his forehead against hers.
“It’s not easy. None of this is. I never want to give you the impression I think that!
But I think not trying is easy. I think it’s weak.
Sitting around grumbling and growling and hating burns up a lot of energy, but it gets nothing done.
In the end, it’s a copout. Do you think I came to Dark Philly because it was the easy way?
I could have run some cushy lab in New Mexico testing new ways of killing fleas on pets. That would have been much easier.”
Kin hadn’t realized she’d had another offer. It hadn’t occurred to him. The understanding that he could have missed out on her left him dreadfully and suddenly cold. He reached to touch her face, the crest of her cheekbone sliding under his thumb as he shaped the high contour.
For all his gruff and seemingly mean ways, it was these moments when he made her feel so suddenly treasured that left her breathless.
Maybe because it was so stark a contrast, or maybe because it was happening more and more often.
One thing Jenesis knew—she was beginning to understand him very clearly.
It was far from feeling guilty or sorry for him.
The only thing wrong with Kincaid Gregory’s life right now was Kincaid Gregory.
And she suspected he was coming to realize that.
Then there was a sudden snap, and Kincaid lurched around in an awkward sideways movement. Something wasn’t right, and Jen barely heard the report of the shot as it finally caught up to them.
Kincaid dropped like a bag of stones, all that rough vitality leaving him sharply and suddenly as half his neck exploded from the impact of the hardcore sniper round.
His grip around her arm pulled her down with him, jerked her across his falling body.
It wasn’t in her to be a screamer. Her brain was just too analytical.
All it wanted to do was think. Think of where the trajectory of the shot had originated.
Think of how to put her hands on him to stop the bleeding.
Think of all the reasons why erupting into tears and hysteria would be the very worst thing she could do.
Kin was trying to speak, but nothing came of his attempts except for the gurgle of blood in his throat.
But his eyes, those keen blue orbs, spoke volumes.
Watch out!
The second shot was of compressed air. She felt the dart tip pin deeply into her shoulder, its red-flagged end making her feel suddenly like a wild animal that had just been caught because she had wasted time hovering over her fallen mate.
She sat down hard beside him, looking around futilely for someone else on the street.
She turned back to Kin, looked him dead in his stricken blue eyes, and said, “Don’t forget the program.”
Jen opened her eyes groggily, her head twitching along the back of her scalp and aching heavily. She couldn’t draw her thoughts together at first as she tried to focus on the sharply white room around her.