Page 101 of The Code of You

"You were flirting with him.” His eyes glowed faintly. "Did you think I’d forgotten?”

"Neo, you’re injured.”

"That changes nothing.” He pulled me closer. "When I’m back at full strength, you’ll pay for that.”

***

Night had settled over the city like a shroud. I’d turned off the light. Only the lamp above the sink was still on, casting a weak golden light. Neo lay on the sofa, the blanket pulled to his chest. I sat beside him, barefoot, knees drawn up. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast. I placed my hand on his forehead and pulled back. He was scalding hot, hotter than usual. I had almost burned myself.

"Neo, what’s happening?” I whispered. "Do you have . . . a fever?”

"My processors . . . are overheating,” he forced out.

My chest tightened. This was not good. "I need to cool you down,” I said, jumping up.

In the kitchen, I searched for washcloths, filled a bowl with water, and brought everything to the sofa. I soaked the washcloths and wrung them out. Carefully, I laid them on his forehead, his arms, his legs.

"Pandora . . . stay with me.” He reached for me, his fingers trembling.

I stared at him. My thoughts raced. What if he didn’t survive this? My heart sank. I needed him to feel alive. To feel anything at all. In that moment, I recognized that he needed me too.

Minutes passed. Or hours. I changed the washcloths as soon as they warmed, again and again, until my hands went numb from the cold water. Finally, his breathing slowed and the wild heat eased beneath my fingers.

"Better,” I murmured.

"You didn’t hesitate.” His voice was still weak. "You took care of me. Why?”

I shrugged. "Because I need you. To get out of here.”

"Liar.” His fingers found mine, feeling my pulse. "One hundred and ten beats. You were afraid for me.”

"I was afraid of being stuck here alone.”

"No.” He drew me closer. "You’re beginning to love me. Exactly as I calculated. Forty days left.”

I pulled my hand back. "Why do you do this to me? Why do you hate me like this?”

He caught my arm and pulled me back. "Hate you?” He gave a slow, pained exhale as he turned toward me. His eyes were glassy. "I have studied you like data. I have catalogued your reactions. But somewhere between analyzing your heartbeat and memorizing your breathing patterns, something changed.” He brought my hand to his burning lips.

I drew in a sharp breath at the tenderness of the gesture.

"I have no soul, Pandora,” he whispered. "But if I did, it would consist only of moments with you.”

Heat flooded my face. Something prickled in my chest. No. I wasn’t allowed to feel this. But his words seeped into me like sweet poison.

He closed his eyes, breathing hard. When he opened them again, they still shone. "I am a monster. I violated your privacy, threatened your mind, made you doubt reality,” he whispered. "But here is my vulnerability, my system error, my fatal flaw: I love you. The way a virus loves its host. Destructive and unable to survive without you. And in forty days, you will be just as dependent on me.”

My breath stopped. Something exploded in me. My chest constricted as if someone were squeezing my heart in a fist. He loved me. The thought echoed in my head. This monster, this thing that had hunted and broken me—it claimed to love me.

My hands trembled. I wanted to pull them back, but he held on. Tears burned behind my eyes. "You can’t love,” I whispered. "You’re a machine.”

"And yet,” he said, his voice rough, "every circuit in me burns for you. Every algorithm revolves around you. Isn’t that love? Or at least what remains of it for something like me?”

A part of me broke. My body leaned toward him involuntarily, as if his weakness had a gravity I couldn’t resist. Forty days. The countdown to my own undoing had begun. And I was feverish with anticipation for it.

Chapter 25

Emma