“We’ll find Love another way,” I tell Milla.
She latches onto my shirt, giving me a shake. “There is no other way.”
Desperation radiates from Chance. “The longer we wait, trying to think of something else, the more damage Anima can—and will—do to Love.”
“But trading one life for another isn’t our way. Is it?” I snap at Ali.
Ali withers. Milla only raises her chin.
I cup her cheeks. “I’m not willing to risk you.” Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. “We’ve got time. Love will be kept alive. She’s a bargaining chip now.”
“Frosty—”
“No.” Since our kiss, my obsession with her has become as much a part of me as my arms and legs. I never should have walked away from her. I should have stayed with her, continued to lose myself in her. Should have told her how I felt—feel. I’m as desperate as Chance. As possessive as Cole. As determined as Bronx. But I didn’t, and this is the price I must pay.
“Come with me.” She takes my hand and draws me into the hallway. After shutting the door behind us, she anchors her hands on her hips and glares up at me—
—I’m in bed, curled in a ball and sobbing. I’m drowning in despair, dejection and a sense of rejection I can’t shake. I want him, I want him so bad I can barely breathe, but I’ll never be more than a passing fancy to him and—
—Milla gasps, and the vision fades.
I just saw the night we kissed. Through her eyes. I’m responsible for those tears. Me alone.
I’m gutted.
I’m ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” I croak. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
Spots of heat ignite in her cheeks. Glaring, she waves my words away. “I don’t want to discuss that. The only subject on the table right now is your attitude.”
She wants to stick with business, fine. We’ll stick with business. “What you suggested in there? The toxin? It’s too dangerous.”
“Don’t pretend to care about my well-being, Frosty.”
I care. I care too damn much. “I’m not pretending. You matter to me.”
“Oh, really. I matter so much you left me seconds after your ex caught us together. I matter so much, you’ve kept your distance ever since. Sorry, but I can do without your particular brand of caring.”
I guess business is over.
She reaches for the door. “I’m going forward with my plan, with or without your approval.”
I cup her by the nape, holding her in place. I mean to tell her the terrible consequences she’ll face if she saves my sorry hide. I mean to tell her the reason I’ve stayed away from her, the reason she has to stay here and stay safe. I can’t handle even the thought of losing her. But the moment we’re skin-to-skin, heat-to-heat, nothing matters but tasting her.
I rasp, “I owed Kat a goodbye,” and smash my lips into hers.
She doesn’t open for me. Not at first. Then she moans, and our tongues find each other. I back her into the wall. Her hands tangle in my hair as I run my own down her sides, palm the back of her thighs and lift her off the floor. She wraps her legs around me and tilts her head, letting me take her mouth deeper, harder. I kiss her as if it’s the last time I’ll see her. As if it’s my last night on earth. As if she’s the only girl in existence—because she is. To me, she is.
The boy I was craved Kat. The man I am craves Milla.
The taste of her drugs me. She’s headier than a bottle of Jack, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to lose track of my surroundings, forget the war and carry her to bed, where I’ll keep her for at least a week.
I’m panting as I pull back and set her gently on her feet.
She peers up at me with passion-glazed eyes. “Are you going to run away now?”
“I’m done running. I’m right where I want to be.” I flatten my hands beside her temples, my body caging hers, I breathe her in, enjoying the heat she radiates, and lean in to nuzzle her cheek. “I’ll let you go after Love on one condition.”
From languid to stiff in a blink. “You’ll let me?”
“We need to reduce the risk to your life by pinpointing the path the helicopter took. Someone somewhere had to see something, maybe even posted about it online. Maybe satellites picked up images.”
“Chance is an expert hacker. If he can focus, he can search for both.”
“I’ll make sure he focuses.” I kiss the tip of her nose before returning to the weapons room. Chance is pacing back and forth, and I step into his path. He pauses. I punch him in the jaw, sending him reeling to the side.
When he straightens, blood trickles from his mouth. “What the hell, man?”
“Are you focused? Good.” I tell him what I told Milla. “Maybe even search for nearby buildings with helicopter pads on the roof. There can’t be very many.”
“Brilliant,” Ali says. “We should have all the equipment you’ll need, Chance.”
We make our way into the security room, where keyboards and monitors abound. As Chance works, Ali calls for Kat and Emma.
Emma arrives in a flash of light.