Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2) (5 page)

They followed Konstantin upstairs to a deserted lounge and dining room. On both the port and starboard sides, promenade decks slanted to overlook the ground. Ardis wandered to the windows and stared at the snowy roofs of Phillipopolis. With a jolt, the zeppelin cast away from the mooring mast and floated into the sky.

“How long is the trip to Prussia?” Ardis said.

Konstantin joined her on the promenade and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He frowned, his face thoughtful.

“Fifteen hours in good weather,” Konstantin said, “though airship travel has been restricted ever since the declaration of war.”

“Are there enemy airships?” Ardis said. “I didn’t think Russia had any.”

“They don’t.” Konstantin smiled grimly. “But Britain does, and there’s talk of them allying with Russia against us.”

“Wonderful,” Wendel said.

Ardis glanced over her shoulder. Wendel lingered in the shadows, not looking at the windows, his arms crossed. Her chest tightened as she realized why he had been acting so wary. He was afraid of heights.

Or perhaps Wendel was afraid of falling.

Ardis would never forget the look on Wendel’s face as he plummeted to his death. But she had assumed he had forgotten it all. Did he remember her standing on the Serpent’s Tower as he dropped through the darkness?

Did he remember dying?

Ardis shivered and hugged herself. Konstantin was staring at her now.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s a little cold.”

Konstantin dipped his head. “The
Wanderfalke
is outfitted with shielding technomancy, though temperature regulation isn’t a primary concern. We care more about hydrogen containment.” He cleared his throat as if realizing he had gone off on a tangent. “May I suggest your cabins? They tend to be warmer.”

Wendel waved at nothing in particular. “Lead the way.”

They left the dining room and walked down a corridor lined with doors.

Konstantin pointed out the first and second doors on the left. “These will be your cabins. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Wendel said. “You make a decent airship steward, archmage.”

Konstantin blushed. “Good night.”

Ardis opened the door to her cabin and discovered a small bare room with a single berth. Light glowed from a wall lamp shaped like a porthole. Ardis glanced back at Konstantin, who hesitated in the doorway.

“Merry Christmas,” Konstantin said. It almost sounded absurd.

Ardis nodded. “Merry Christmas.”

Wendel lingered behind the archmage. Ardis caught his eye, but Konstantin let the door swing shut between them.

Ardis tried not to worry about Wendel. Frowning, she kicked off her boots and killed the light. She crawled into the berth, still fully clothed, and yanked the blankets over herself. The moment her head hit the pillow, exhaustion anchored her there and dragged her down. She drifted underwater in an ocean of sleep.

~

Outside the window, a maidenhair tree danced in the wind and scattered its golden leaves over the streets of San Francisco.

Ardis sat at the dinner table. The naked blade of a
jian
rested on the old wood. When she touched the Chinese sword, it ignited under her fingertips. Enchanted flames crawled over the steel and whispered against her skin.

“Chun Yi,” she whispered.

Her sword smoldered with its own fire, brighter than the autumn leaves.

“Yu Lan!”

Her mother, Jin Hua, swatted away her hand. Jin Hua looked distracted, her long dark hair twisted back in a careless bun.

“Put down that sword,” Jin Hua said.

Ardis did as she was told. Jin Hua delivered plate after plate of delicious food until the table groaned under its burden. A whole pot of wonton soup, an embarrassment of dumplings, roast duck swimming in sauce, pork cooked with mustard greens, and Ardis’s favorite, sesame chicken with handmade noodles.

Her mother pressed a pair of chopsticks into her hand.

“You need to eat,” Jin Hua said. “For the baby.”

“What baby?” Ardis said.

Jin Hua poured her a cup of fragrant jasmine tea. “Don’t be silly, Yu Lan.”

When Ardis looked down, the world went askew. She was pregnant? She rubbed her round belly. Very pregnant.

“Mama?” Ardis said, her words unsteady. “I’m having a baby?”

Jin Hua smiled. “Sooner than you think.”

Ardis jerked awake and clutched fistfuls of sheets in her hands. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She pressed herself to the mattress, trying to piece together the fragments of the dream, but it still didn’t make much sense.

Unless…

Ardis slipped her hand under her shirt and touched her belly. It felt as flat as it ever did. But that didn’t stop the panicky little jitter to her heartbeat. She had been careful, she had taken precautions. She couldn’t be pregnant.

Though, with enough bad luck, she knew she could be.

God, what would Wendel say about her dream?

Talking to him about babies didn’t seem like a conversation they could have right now. Or ever. And she had never been remotely intrigued by the realm of tiny helpless wailing things that demanded tributes of milk.

Ardis propped her elbows against the berth and pushed herself upright.

“It was just a dream,” she muttered. “A nightmare.”

Because of course an accidental baby would be a nightmare. She was a mercenary, for heaven’s sake. She pressed her lips together and decided to stop thinking about it. The part with the sword was the most interesting, anyway.

Barefoot, Ardis tiptoed to the next cabin and slipped inside.

Wendel lay with his arm curled around a pillow. He lifted his head.

“Ardis?” he whispered.

Her stomach tightened. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah.”

Wendel swung his legs over the edge of his berth and patted the spot next to him.

“Join me in the insomniacs club,” he said. “Very exclusive. Only the best clientele.”

Ardis sat close to Wendel. Her dream darted through her mind again. She inhaled and held the words in her mouth.

Wendel’s smile faded. “What is it?”

Ardis touched her belly. There was no baby. Maybe there never would be.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Don’t lie to a liar,” Wendel said gently.

“You first.” Ardis raised her eyebrows. “Tell me why you couldn’t sleep.”

Wendel laughed and rubbed his thumb over his lip. She studied his face, though she couldn’t read him well in the shadows.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the vampires,” he said.

That wasn’t what Ardis had expected.

“Are you angry that Konstantin saved me?” she said.

“No.”

Wendel stared at the floor. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“What did it feel like?” he said.

Her stomach clenched. She knew what he was asking, but she didn’t know how he would look at her if she told him the truth.

“Like bliss,” she whispered.

Wendel looked at her with a strange curiosity in his eyes, then looked away.

“Fifteen hours is a long flight for a zeppelin,” he said. “They will have to stop to refuel. We can still escape to Switzerland.”

“You don’t want to go home?” she said.

Wendel was silent for a moment. “Prussia isn’t home.”

“But you have family there.”

“Correct.” Wendel clucked his tongue. “I doubt they will abandon Königsberg.”

“Königsberg?”

“The capital of East Prussia, and the name of our ancestral castle there.”

Ardis gawked at him. “Castle?”

Wendel grimaced. “Tragically, Königsberg isn’t much of one. Back when the Teutonic Knights built it, the castle was a crusader fortress, but over the centuries it has been dandified, for lack of a better word.”

“I’m still amazed you have an ancestral castle.”

“We won’t for long when the Russians invade,” Wendel said. “Juliana and Wolfram may have the sense to flee, but my father isn’t the kind of man who surrenders. And I know my mother would stay by his side.”

Ardis touched his arm. “Are you worried about them?”

Wendel laced his fingers together and inspected his hands.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then you should help them.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” he said dryly. “I’m not heartless.”

She poked him in the ribs. “Tempted by the thought of being a hero?”

“Hardly.”

She smiled at him. “I can’t imagine you riding into battle on a white stallion. You’re too devious for that. I expect you to skulk into the castle under cover of darkness and let an army of undead do all your dirty work.”

He laughed. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

Ardis started to stand, but Wendel caught her wrist and tugged her down. She fell sideways against him, halfway in his lap, and he held her with an arm behind her back. He smiled, dipped her lower, and stole a kiss. His lips felt divine against hers. She melted against him, craving the heat of his skin.

Wendel’s stubble grazed her cheek as he moved to whisper in her ear.

“I’m still tempted to escape,” he said, “so we can spend more time alone.”

Ardis licked her lips. They hadn’t been alone like that in days. She ran her hand over his cheekbone and combed her fingers through his ragged hair, remembering how long and beautiful it had been when she first met him.

“I should trim your hair,” she said.

“Not handsome enough for you?” he said.

“You look rough around the edges.”

He lowered his voice. “Rough isn’t always bad.”

Blushing, she pushed him away. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm.”

When he adjusted himself beneath her, Ardis knew that he wasn’t exactly telling the truth. He attempted to look innocent.

“Your turn,” Wendel said. “You never told me why you crept into my cabin.”

“To seduce you, clearly.” Ardis hoped her smile looked real.

“I’m all for seduction,” he said, with a raised eyebrow, “but this isn’t fair. I want to know what keeps you awake at night.”

Anxiety prickled along Ardis’s skin. She tried to sound flippant.

“San Francisco,” she said.

Wendel hesitated. “The man who wouldn’t take no for an answer?”

Ardis pressed her hands between her knees. She didn’t know how to tell him the truth.

“No,” she said. “Not him.”

But she wasn’t brave enough for the rest.

“It was just a dream,” she said again, as if repetition would make her words real.

Ardis started to stand, but Wendel held onto her hand.

“Stay with me,” he said. “I can’t sleep without you.”

Ardis looked into Wendel’s eyes, and he looked back at her with a vulnerability that he didn’t often reveal. She slipped her hand behind his neck and captured him in a kiss. They dropped onto the berth. After an awkward moment of elbows and knees, they fit together. Wendel lay on his back and Ardis lay with her head resting on his chest. She heard the steady thumping of his heart under her ear.

Wendel’s heartbeat thumped harder as Ardis unbuttoned his shirt and stroked her hand over his warm skin. He flinched when she found a few of his scars, but he had so many that she couldn’t touch him without reminding him of his memories. She wanted to touch him until he forgot the pain and felt only pleasure.

“Before I met you,” Wendel said, “it was easier to fight.”

She frowned. “Are you saying I’m a liability?”

“You misunderstand me.” Wendel paused, his face only inches from her own. “In some ways, it is easier to face death alone.”

An ache both sick and sweet panged in Ardis’s chest.

“You aren’t alone,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

She smiled, her eyes stinging. “That sounds awfully heroic of you. I think I might be ruining your reputation, Wendel.”

He laughed. “To hell with my reputation,” he said, and he kissed her.

Ardis deepened the kiss. Wendel’s hand slid under her shirt, and she arched against him. His thumb rubbed circles over her nipples, first one, then the other, until the tight pleasure made her moan softly into his mouth.

“I love you,” Wendel whispered in her ear.

Ardis swallowed hard. Was this the part where she said the same?

She had told him she loved him the night he died, the night she brought him back with borrowed magic. But of course he hadn’t heard her then. Somehow, parroting the words back to him now felt like it cheapened them. Her hesitation fed the guilt in her gut. And so she hid her emotions behind a smile.

“You should love me,” Ardis teased. “I saved your life.”

“Oh?”

She couldn’t see Wendel’s face, though she was sure from the sound of his voice that he was raising one of his eyebrows.

“Are we keeping count?” he said. “Last time I checked, I rescued you.”

“But I was smart,” she said. “I never swore fealty to you.”

“How evil of you,” Wendel said, with suppressed laughter in his voice. “I suppose this means I’m still yours to command.”

Ardis smiled in the dark. “I command you to lie back and close your eyes.”

“Yes, mistress.”

She laughed and swatted him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Technically, it’s true. We aren’t married.”