Read Steel Dominance Online

Authors: Cari Silverwood

Tags: #Fantasy, #Erotic Romance, #bdsm, #Steampunk

Steel Dominance (24 page)

Would anyone mind if she came closer? Sofia climbed to her feet, dusted off her hands, then padded to Dankyo’s side. After a glance, he pulled her in against him. She sneaked her arm across his waist. So warm and manly. Nothing could touch her now.

“I see,” Dankyo continued. “Who was it?”

Though he’d not flinched or said anything in words, the extra flatness of his tone and the resolute look in his eyes when she’d looked at him before told Sofia the deaths had affected him in some way. He was a commander. He was military. He might look like he was made of stone, but he’d be hurting.
I know this, because I know him.

She hugged him even tighter. Maybe she could give him some comfort too.

“The Heraklos.” The janissary shoved his pistol into a belt holster, then stroked the protruding butt. “This reeks of them. I know of no other parties determined and profligate enough to attempt this. You and your young slave were meant to be kidnapped, I believe.”

“Profligate?” Dankyo said softly. “Why only capture?” He gently patted the back of her thigh.

“The birds did not carry poison but a sedative. The man who was stung is recovering. What the Heraklos would have done with you, I shudder to imagine.” His iron gaze swept across Sofia, and she felt it like a blow.

Goose bumps rose.

“For this reason,” he added, “I have been given instructions to offer you and this woman refuge at the palace until all that you are doing for the emperor-bey has been done satisfactorily.”

So vague. She guessed he didn’t know about the Clockwork Warrior.

“Thank you, I will consider it.” Dankyo said no more until after the janissary and his two men had left. Then he sat on the office chair, pulled her onto his lap, and kissed her nape.

The man, Reece, waited, swaying, with one hand propped on the desk. A little dried blood showed in an undulating trail down his bare forearm.

Henry stirred, swung his legs across, and sat up. He leaned his palms on his thighs. “What now? You know the new contingent from House Kevonis arrives tomorrow?”

Would they go to the palace? Surely Dankyo would not agree to that? She was dying to ask him, but not with Reece here. Staying low, being a harmless slave, had become second nature. She smoothed the lace on her tunic’s hem, then picked at a loose thread.

“I do.” The rumble of Dankyo’s voice behind her calmed her. “Ten men. This place will still be a sieve. Defending it properly has always been impossible without a small army.”

Oh no. That left…

“Without us here, you might be okay. I’m sure we are the bait that drew this attack upon the compound. I’d advise leaving, Henry, once you deliver the last weapons shipment and the Clockwork Warrior replica to the emperor-bey.”

“That’s soon, but it will take a day or so to get everything packed.” Henry rubbed his chin. “Not sure I want to leave you behind. The palace, though? You’re going with that fellow?”

“I think so. Reece, go do the rounds of the men and then get your wound tended to. See that the docs are dispensing the galvanic treatment to those in most need first.”

“Sir.” Cap jammed back on his head, Reece saluted, and exited.

When the tap of his shoes on the floor had faded, she put her head up and turned. “I don’t want to go to the palace. The emperor-bey”—she screwed up her face—“he gives me an awful feeling, like the willies, as if I’m just a thing. And the place echoes.”

“I know.” He stroked her hair where pieces strayed from her chignon. “It gives me the willies too.” She gave a lopsided grin at the thought of Dankyo scared. “But, it’s our best option. Don’t worry, I always take precautions.”

Henry pulled on his lip. “Palace building plans? That sort of precaution? Weapons?”

“Yes. If we can smuggle them in. And other things. I’ll tell you before we go.” Dankyo tugged on her hair. “I won’t let you get hurt, Sofia, you know that. If the Heraklos attack again, this place will likely fall. We are the foreigners here, and I can’t even call upon accurate intelligence. Now, how long before you can do the big reveal of your solution?”

How long? She heaved out a sigh, tried to forget the gritty ache in her eyes, and calculated. “Three days. Maybe?”

“Good. In three days, you’ll do that, and we’ll leave Byzantium.”

She nodded, then rearranged his tie and collar while she thought. The man smelled so good. She wanted to bury her face at the side of his neck and breathe deep. Three days. It still seemed a long time to be at the palace. “Very well.”

“Good.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, then added sotto voce, “That will give me the time I need also. Time to make love to you the way I want to.” The corner of his mouth curved up.

“Oh.” She blinked, then touched tongue tip to lip. “I guess…good.”

Staying at the palace might be worthwhile after all. Except he’d still not promised her anything more. She needed that, needed certainty.

* * * *

The emperor-bey wound out the focus on his brass eyeglass. Without looking up from the delicate repair of the clockwork goldfinch, he spoke. “So. It is done?” The breeze across the pond flicked through his hair.

“Yes.”

He heard the shift of Xiang’s clothes along her body. Was she nervous? Excited? If so, this was a rare occasion. He tightened the screw a smidgeon inside the bird’s abdomen, then pushed back the chair and walked across the terrace to the carved tree with the red paper leaves. It rustled pleasantly. When a few feet away, he heard the chimes and whirrs of the clockwork creatures on the branches.

Xiang walked quietly a step behind. Clad in black, with the soot and gore of battle still on her hands, she was not at all what he normally allowed within smelling distance. Luckily his perfume disguised much of her odor.

“I like that the Heraklos have been blamed. And I also appreciate that I now have an adequate excuse for removing some of these foreigners from my city. I have gained what I want from them. But, do not mistake me. I know your motives, Xiang. Consider this the end of your small acts of terror against Dankyo. Nothing further. We are too close to the end gambit.”

“There.” He set the bird on a vacant branch and stepped back, smiling. The little thing chirruped and hopped to a higher branch. “Are they arriving soon?”

“Yes, Your Serenity.”

“Good. When she solves my warrior’s puzzle, you may have the man, and we will both be happy. Will you bed him or kill him?”

“I will torture him. It is what I need to do.”

“Ah. Good.” When three birds on one branch broke into song together, he clapped his hands. “Excellent. Nothing like a surfeit of torture to enhance your day. It may not be my route to happiness, but it has always been yours. And I always reward my servants.

He pointed at a spot at the opposite end of the terrace, and waggled his finger. “You know, I do believe that will be the place for this replica I’m getting tomorrow. To the right of my throne.” The gold-plated throne gleamed. The enormous silver wall behind it fanned out like a latticework shell. On days when the anger swarmed through him like bees on a rampage, the wall was convenient for attaching annoying people to. Most of them survived the experience.

“And the woman?” Xiang asked.

He examined her. A long pistol was sheathed in a holster slung low and strapped to her thigh. The red blipping light on the side meant the charge was zero. Good. Her hand draped over the bronze-riveted butt. The tendons along the back stood out stark, like little bones under the skin. How close all humanity was to being skeletons, to being dead. Her hand twitched, once.

Tsk
. His assassin had her foibles. He’d never seen her show such…interest, as she had in these two.

“You want her too? We shall see. We will decide when the choice is before us.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

For three days they’d stayed at the compound with a heavy detachment of palace guards to enhance security. Men needed to be evacuated or sent to hospital. The buildings had to be repaired and shored up. Dankyo and Henry conferred, discussed things, and information was gathered. She’d thought, hoped, they could go straight to the palace. The stress of staying in a place where so many had recently died hobbled her chances of her doing the last calculations. She’d tried and done some, but ended up nauseated and with a pounding headache. When someone tried to poison the kitchen supplies, her nerves had frayed even more.

Praying for the souls of the dead hadn’t helped, and neither had praying for Dankyo.

Though Dankyo showed no sure outside signs of problems, not everyone wore their emotions outwardly. He would have to be one of those least likely to do so. Sex had become nonexistent, and that was so unlike him. And when he slept, the nightmares plagued him.

She’d almost woken him properly, to ask him what caused them, but each night she’d drawn back, hand trembling.

I’m such a chicken. I have to ask him
. But not now. They had arrived. And what an arrival. Sofia smiled.
This
gave her the willies?

The bed in their room at the palace was large enough to take a small elephant. A quilt spread across like a sea of aquamarine with green flecks. On the wall beyond was a wide mural of an orgy in some flower-swathed grove. Half-animal gods or demons ravished fair maidens. One maiden, her hair spilling out in frothy curls, lay sprawled on her back on an altar, her hands and ankles secured by red ropes.

Sofia padded over to the mural and ran her palm over the cool tiles. Then she drew back and peered. From here, the red tiles seemed more blood than rope.

Ugh
. Either the artist was awful or the scene was.

Another wall of the room was closed in by a bank of carved doors. Dankyo unlocked the gold handle. He slowly folded back the doors, revealing a blue sky bright enough to make her squint, though on the horizon heavy storm clouds were building. Past the doors, and a shaded alcove, the stone floor merged with a small lake. A breeze tickled the surface. Ripples arrowed from the center toward the near shore. Did something live in there? There was a little island, and on a far bank, topiary trees and shrubs screened the lake.

Paradise.

The palace was so wrapped in guards and security that nothing short of a small—no make that a large—war would break through.
Safe
. She inhaled and smiled.

There was a desk for her to work at, servants to bring food, and she could relax until the day she unveiled the secret. No need to be a slave if she didn’t leave the room. Only Tansu and one other trusted servant were to be allowed to attend them. No need to wear this travesty of palest mauve that, yet again, allowed those who wished to count her pubic hairs and the number of freckles on her backside.

Once the bags had been deposited on the tiles of the lounge area, the servants left her and Dankyo alone.

Feeling trepidation prickle her, she joined Dankyo where he stood before the lake in his gray shirt and darker gray trousers. He was impassive, staring out as if lost in thought, and dressed as somberly as the clouds on the horizon.

The collar could go. She reached up to undo the buckle.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, she paused. “What?” He’d barely looked at her. “I don’t have to pretend here, so I’m taking this off.” She fiddled with the buckle. “I’m not actually your slave, remember?” Stupid, why did she even bother explaining to him, when here he was standing next to her stony-faced and almost ignoring her?

“No. You’re not. Though I wouldn’t trust security here completely. You may remove it for a short while.” He met her gaze. “Let me do that.”

He brushed aside her fingers and took his time undoing the buckle, so she had to stand, waiting, while he breathed down on her. This close, he affected her. She half closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell a little faster, though she tried not to let it show.

The leather fell away, only to be replaced by his hand, half circling her neck, callouses rasping on her. When his lips brushed the hollow between neck and collarbone, she sighed.

This is so idiotic, melting like jelly, now
. She tilted her neck away only to have him slide his arms across below her breasts and hold her to him until her body was perfectly snug against his.

“Dankyo…” She swallowed the roughness in her throat. “We need to talk.”

“Yes.”

She turned in his arms. For once his feelings showed front and center—a crease marked the center of his forehead.

“I know.” His hand swallowed hers, and he drew her to the edge of the flagstones. Matter-of-factly he rolled up the legs of his trousers, then sat with his feet immersed in the lake water. “Here.” He patted the warm stone. The collar lay there innocent and black near his hand.

Something dark, and as long as a human, swam in the water. At the front end, nostrils surfaced. The V of disturbed water headed for a little beach of sand to the left.

“What is that? Pull your feet up!”

“It’s okay, Sofia. I was told there are a few clockwork creatures here. They clean up any clockies that land. They won’t bite you. The groundkeeper comes daily to tend to them.”

“Oh. I see.” When the creature emerged and waddled onto the beach, she cautiously sat next to Dankyo and let her feet dip in the water.

The thing gleamed—four legs, greenish metal scales, a long, thick tail, and when it swung to stare at her, she spotted rows of steel teeth. Lord, she wasn’t patting that one. “A clockwork crocodile? I’m glad we didn’t bring Zigzag.”

Henry was taking care of Zigzag because they’d been afraid his clockie parts would mean security quarantining him, or worse, destroying him.

“Yes. It would have eaten him.”

The lake water was cool and clear. Past some floating weeds, a few feet down, she could see the rocks and sand on the bottom. A tiny fish flicked past. Not that she was going to swim in there, even if the island in the middle did have a neatly mowed lawn and a white gazebo.
How did they mow out there?

She shook her head, dismissing the question.

“So”—she swirled her feet and watched the bubbles—“what have you decided?” It felt odd taking the initiative and talking first.

Other books

After the Fire by John Pilkington
Murder by Reflection by H. F. Heard
Gerald Durrell by The Overloaded Ark
Eating Mud Crabs in Kandahar by Matt McAllester
Because of His Name by Kelly Favor
A Hundred Words for Hate by Thomas E. Sniegoski
Magic Born by Caethes Faron