Clockwork Menagerie: A Shadows of Asphodel Novella (6 page)

“And your hands haven’t been stained by a drop of blood.” She glanced at her gloves. “You have quite the reputation yourself.”

His stomach plummeted. “I don’t know what you heard.”

“What do you call them?
Eisenkrauts
?”

“Eisenkriegers.”

Her teeth flashed in a smile. “Perhaps we should compare notes.”

Himmel wandered back, tension in his jaw. He caught Konstantin’s eye and shook his head. The little boy skipped over to Countess Victorova, flinging his arms around her leg, and peeked out from behind her skirts.

Himmel crouched to his height. “
Privet, malyish
.”

The boy stared at him, eyes bugging, and the countess touched his shoulder. “Sweetheart, say hello to the airship captain.”

He shook his head and ducked behind his mother.

Himmel’s mustache twitched in a smile. “Pardon us.” He steered Konstantin away.

“Wait, I want to ask her about the clockwork dra—”

“No, you don’t.” Himmel glared at him. “Now isn’t the time.”

Alexsandr lurked nearby, no doubt committing every word to memory. Konstantin gritted his teeth and put on a polite smile to survive the rest of the night, which proved to be a torment of idle chat and diplomatic pitfalls.

Snow whirled through the night outside Countess Victorova’s townhouse. Konstantin tailed Baron von Bach to the street, where an auto waited at the curb. The ambassador smiled, his cheeks rosy from wine. “Falkenrath.”

“Sir, if I might have a word?”

“Certainly.” Maybe Baron von Bach felt magnanimous tonight. “Ride with me.”

Konstantin ducked into the auto. As its engine revved, the words tumbled from his mouth. “You knew about the countess?”

“Knew what?”

“She confessed to building the clockwork dragon.”

That knocked the smile from his face. His eyes narrowed. “God, man, it’s too late in the night for such accusations.”

Konstantin jogged his leg. “Sir, I’m not sure you understand—”

“I understand.” Grimacing, the baron folded his arms over his belly. “You want to risk diplomacy with Russia on a whim.”

“With all due respect, it isn’t a whim. I have evidence of psychothaumaturgy.”

“Which evidence of what?”

“Psychothaumaturgy. The science of soul-powered technomancy, highly illegal, even a violation of the Geneva Convention.”

Baron von Bach grimaced. “You think the Russians give a fig about the Geneva Convention? While they fear an invading army of metal men, Countess Zinoviya Victorova protects her people like a mother bear.”

“So we spare her life in an act of misguided chivalry?”

“They see her as a heroine. There’s no point in making a martyr of her.”

Konstantin’s fingernails dug into his knees. “Let me investigate the clockwork menagerie. Let me expose her crimes of technomancy.”

Baron von Bach let out a humorless laugh. “Absolutely not.”

“You asked me to be your scientific attaché.”

“I’m glad you remember; I thought you had forgotten your place.”

Heat scorched Konstantin’s ears. “You want me to do nothing?”

“I want you to observe.”

“With all due respect, I don’t see how observation will avenge the dead.”

“This isn’t vengeance, this is diplomacy.” The ambassador cleared his throat. “Rather than making an enemy of your rival, have you considered befriending Zinoviya? Maybe she will talk, technomancer to technomancer.”

“Preposterous!”

“You have your orders, Falkenrath.” Von Bach stared him down. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Adrenaline buzzing through his bloodstream, Konstantin stared through the window. How predictable. Trying to explain technomancy to the ignorant always proved a Herculean task, but admitting defeat was unacceptable.

He had the clockwork dragon’s technomancer within his grasp.

Back at the hotel, Himmel said goodnight and shut his door without another word, but Konstantin paced in his room until he worried he had worn holes in the carpet. This was absurd. Conviction burned in his chest.

He marched across the hall and knocked. The door swung open under his knuckles.

Himmel wore no shirt and an expression of great irritation. “What is it?”

“Countess Zinoviya Victorova.”

“What about her?”

“She built the clockwork dragon.”

“Keep it down.” Himmel glanced along the hallway. “Get in here before the whole hotel hears your wild accusations.”

Konstantin stepped into the room. “But Theodore—”

“Himmel.”

“—the countess
confessed
.”

“A lonely widow who crafts butterflies and bears as toys for her little boy?”

An impatient growl escaped Konstantin. He raked his fingers through his unruly curls. “She uses Siberian chrysoberyl in her clockwork menagerie. That means the Tsar himself permits her psychothaumaturgy.”

Himmel slumped in an armchair. “Talk to Baron von Bach in the morning.”

“I already did.” He twisted his mouth. “He still believes there’s honor in war.”

“And you don’t?”

“Diplomacy is dead. God, do you know what he suggested? To
befriend
the countess.”

Himmel grunted. “What did you expect? He’s a bureaucrat.”

Konstantin continued pacing. “Help me find proof. Fly me over St. Petersburg. We can look for her laboratory. We—”

“Shouldn’t disobey Baron von Bach.”

Konstantin spun on his heel. “You don’t understand! She’s enslaving souls to power her creations. It’s illegal and barbaric.”

“Falkenrath.” Himmel rubbed his temples. “Don’t cock up this diplomacy.”

“For heaven’s sake!” After a deep breath, Konstantin managed to sound calm. “I can find another zeppelin captain.”

Himmel barked out a laugh. “Who?”

Konstantin skewered him with an icy stare. “You aren’t the only one.”

“I’m the only one you trust.”

“Forget I ever asked. We can’t work together without conflict.”

Himmel shoved himself from the chair. “Why not?”

“Not with you being so damn distracting.” Heartbeat thundering, Konstantin held his ground, his muscles taut with tension.

Himmel swore. “I haven’t touched you since you shoved me away.”

He had touched him, but not like
that
. Not the way Konstantin wanted. In dead silence, he strode to the door and locked it.

“What—?”

Before another word left Himmel’s lips, Konstantin closed the distance between them and kissed him hard and fast. Himmel groaned against his mouth, the steel fingers of his mechanical hand tangling in his hair.

Why did a sin feel so right?

A strangled sigh escaped Konstantin. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

His pulse roared in his ears. “God damn you, don’t turn me away now.” He fumbled with Himmel’s belt, his fingers shaking.

“Konstantin.” He caught his hand, stopping him. “Slow down.”

“No.”

“Not like this. Not your first time.”

Konstantin’s heart ached so hard, he gripped a fistful of his shirt. He didn’t understand this feeling, didn’t understand why Himmel looked at him with such intensity in his eyes. “What am I doing wrong?”

Himmel touched his cheekbone, a brush of his fingertips. “Don’t do this angry.”

Frustration tightened the knot in his throat until he fought to breathe. “It’s too late for that. We take a risk or we walk away.”

Himmel’s eyes gleamed in the shadows, his lips parted. “You already walked away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It bloody hurt.”

He clenched his jaw. “Theodore, I can’t pretend to be brave. I can only take this one day at a time. Is that enough for you?”

Himmel’s hands cradled his face, a contrast between skin and steel. “Yes.” He kissed him in a slow, sweet promise.

The knot in Konstantin’s throat loosened. “Tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Tell me what you want.”

When he thought of it, he adjusted the fly of his trousers, too far gone to be comfortable. He took a shaky breath. “Close your eyes.”

“But I want to see you. You’re such a handsome man.”

Himmel’s mustache twitched with the start of a smile. Konstantin unbuckled his belt and stroked the outline of his arousal. Himmel closed his eyes, tilting back his head, his lips parted. He had such a beautiful mouth, Konstantin kissed him again. Himmel bucked his hips, the hard length of him unmistakable.

“May I?” Konstantin whispered.

“May you what?” His eyes glittered with dark laughter.

Tongue-tied, Konstantin swallowed. “I haven’t seen you naked.”

“That game of poker wasn’t enough?”

“Hardly.”

Veins in his hands stark, Himmel stripped his trousers from his chiseled thighs, taking his drawers with them. Konstantin forgot to breathe. How he wanted to touch him. Please him. Taste him. Licking his lips, he dropped to his knees. Urged on by Himmel’s sharp intake of breath, he kissed the tip of him.

“God.” Shuddering, Himmel braced himself on Konstantin’s shoulders. “Yes.”

It took so little to break the captain’s control. “I dreamed about this.” Both hands absolutely necessary, he clutched the firm curve of Himmel’s buttocks. “And I have been driven insane imagining your ass.”

Himmel laughed. “What a dirty mind you have.”

Konstantin tightened his grip, nails marking skin. “I had a lot of time to think.”

“Clearly.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “You take the lead.”

Command the captain? Heat boiled through his blood. Hands shaking, he fumbled to undress himself. Himmel interrupted, conquering the buttons of his shirt and tossing away the inconvenient garment. “Thank you.”

“No need to be so polite.”

Konstantin arched his eyebrows. “Should I be rude?”

Himmel’s cough seemed to conceal a laugh. “Not… rude.”

“I want to continue.” He couldn’t bring himself to describe it. “If you agree.”

“Please, yes.” Himmel sounded less than polite.

Kneeling, Konstantin took him into his mouth. He circled the crown with his tongue, tasting a hint of salt. Himmel uttered an unintelligible grunt. His fingers knotted in his hair, holding him there, strong yet gentle.

“Konstantin.”

He leaned back. “Should I stop?”

Himmel cleared his throat, twice. “How do you see this ending?”

“Since we share the same basic equipment, I’m somewhat aware of how this might end.”

Himmel laughed. “There are other… endings.”

Konstantin’s face burned. “I want this one.” His voice wavered, betraying him, but he forced himself not to look away.

“Are you sure?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Himmel smirked. “Though it might be more apt to say—” He gasped when Konstantin licked the length of him.

Hard enough to hurt, Konstantin strained against the fly of his trousers, so tense he thought he might explode. Stroking Himmel, sucking the moans out of him, he wanted to drag him onto the bed and pleasure him senseless.

That wasn’t a bad idea.

He stood only long enough to shove Himmel onto the sheets, then bent over him, not even giving him a moment to breathe.

“Konstantin.” A shaky gasp. “I’m close.”

“Good.”

When Konstantin cradled his bollocks, Himmel’s hips arched. Growling out a groan, he spurted salty heat onto his tongue. Konstantin swallowed a mouthful before he walked to the washbasin and spat out the rest.

“You all right?”

“Sorry.” He poured a glass of water. “I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

Breathless, Himmel laughed. “You apologize too much.” His bare feet padded across the carpet. “You were perfect.”

“Was I?”

His body heated Konstantin’s back, his hand sliding down his stomach. “Well, not quite.”

“What?”

“You aren’t naked.”

Konstantin couldn’t think of anything clever, not with Himmel unbuttoning his trousers, gripping him in his fist. Oh, God. The hard stroke of Himmel’s hand accelerated his heartbeat. He inhaled through clenched teeth.

“Why so quiet?” Himmel murmured in his ear.

“I—I can’t—words.”

Himmel chuckled low in his throat. When his fist pumped quicker, the pleasure skyrocketed. Shaking, Konstantin tried to think—couldn’t think. He clutched the table, the muscles in his arms cording.