Authors: Cari Silverwood
Tags: #Fantasy, #Erotic Romance, #bdsm, #Steampunk
The little clockie dog squirmed in Henry’s arms, flopped onto the floor with a clank and clatter, then shook himself. His purple eyes flared to life, and he trotted over to Sofia and sat on his haunches. The whippy metal tail swept to and fro across the floor, scattering dust and sending a large spring bouncing and jingling. He promptly spun around and chased it down, bringing it back to Sofia and dropping it at her feet.
“No!” Henry snatched up the spring. “My special spring! Bad dog!”
The clock dog uncurled his silver tongue, then looked expectantly from Henry to Sofia as if wondering when the game would start.
She grinned down at him. “I have to think of a name for him. Clive? Cloggie?”
“Cloggie? Don’t you dare.” Dankyo growled. “How about Daisywaisy?”
“What?” Incredulous, she turned to him. The effect of the ruler-straight line of his mouth was ruined by the twinkle in his eye.
“Oh!” She mock-punched his arm. Her knuckle twinged with pain, and she shook her hand. “Ow!”
Dankyo caught her wrist and tugged her to him.
“Ouchies. God. You’re too hard.”
“Really?” Smiling, he kissed her knuckles, then hugged her. “What a compliment.”
“You think so?”
Men
. She turned in his arms. “So what do I call him? We are keeping him, aren’t we?”
Oh. The toy maker
. Black thoughts tumbled in on top of the happier ones. “What about his owner? Have they found him?”
For a second Dankyo stopped breathing. “Yes. They dredged up a body from the river. I’m sorry.”
A shiver coursed through her.
Dead
. It seemed so wrong.
He hugged her tighter, then kissed her neck. “So you can keep him, yes. Whoever gave you that note was trying to help you. And the clockwork critter here is therefore unlikely to be aimed at us, or dangerous.”
“Thank you.” She patted his forearm and held it a little while to absorb some of his warm strength. Frowning, she tried to figure out a name that fit. The inside of the clockwork dog’s glass eyes crackled with purple spinning tornadoes. The longer she stared at him, the louder became a whining noise that arose somewhere inside him.
“Coco? Bouncer? Zigzag? Yes, that’s kind of like Ticktock.” She pointed. “Zigzag, you are.”
Zigzag tilted his head as if analyzing her, then trotted over to snap at the spring hanging from Henry’s hand.
“Whoops! No!” Henry frowned. “Dang it, this is an experimental spring.”
Dankyo shifted on his feet, rasping his shirt across the fine chiffon of Sofia’s tunic. “A spring is a spring, Henry. You can give it to him.”
“No it’s not. Look.” Briskly Henry walked to a set of steps on wheels. He placed the spring at the top, then gave it a nudge. Slowly, like a giant metal inchworm gone wrong, it wobbled and sprang down the steps, one end after the other. Though Zigzag dashed over, mouth open, Henry picked the spring up from before his nose. The clock dog skidded past.
“Ha. Fooled you.” He smiled. “You know, this Zigzag dog thing was pining for you, Miss Sofia.”
“Oh?” She wriggled loose from within Dankyo’s arms. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s been trying to get away from me the whole time I had him. But now he’s happy while in your vicinity. Look at him.”
Zigzag was sniffing in a vague circle about her feet. She sucked on the inside of her cheek and offered him her foot. Though he chomped on it for a second with his golden teeth, he was gentle and let her shoe go, then sat and stared at the spring in Henry’s hand.
“He is pretty happy.” She shrugged. “What do you call that spring?”
He clucked his tongue for a moment. Then his eyebrows rose into his hair. “An automatic walking spring? Maybe?”
“Hah.” Dankyo laughed. “Henry, you need to take a class in naming your devices. I recall that reciprocating probe name not going down too well with the ladies.”
Lord
. Sofia didn’t look up. The burn across her cheeks would have rivaled the heat at the center of the sun. How could he?
Behind her Dankyo’s footsteps crunched closer. He enfolded her again in his arms and rocked her a little. “Have you totally disarmed the Clockwork Warrior replica? Apart from those time-telling antics he runs through each hour?”
“Totally?” Thank goodness, Henry sounded bemused and not at all interested in the talk about the reciprocating probe. “Not yet. I need to take out the mechanism in his head. Of course, if he’s not wound up, he’ll run down very fast anyway.”
Even if Henry was distracted, she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Dankyo might as well have put a sign on her head.
“Not yet?” Dankyo had that tone of mild disapproval in his voice. At least it was Henry suffering and not her. “If you accidentally turn the emperor-bey into a pin cushion, you may start a war.”
“I will? Really? Goodness gracious me.”
“Between you and Miss Egghead here, it’s a wonder the world hasn’t fallen apart.”
Miss Egghead? She’d had enough of that from her brothers and her father. She elbowed him. “That’s a stupid joke.”
Chuckling, he reached down and pinched her rear end, hard, making her squeak. “Stupid? And that was not a good move, elbowing me. But thank you, my lady. I needed an excuse to pinch you.”
“I meant that!” She fumed and drew her elbow forward to poke him again.
“Uh-uh.” Without much effort he trapped her arm against her side, then murmured low and growly right beside her earlobe. “Feeling feisty are we? I knew you were bad.”
A shiver ran through her all the way down to her toes.
He insults me, threatens punishment, and yet I still like it in some weird way?
She shook her head at herself.
What am I becoming?
The way Dankyo constantly touched her made her feel like his possession. Deliberate? Yes, surely. His arms cocooned her, his breath warmed her neck, and his dark, male scent seemed to penetrate deep into her flesh.
What would it be like to not have him around again? The emptiness that would bring. How would she bear it?
But, did he actually think of her as an egghead? A hollow feeling sank into her stomach. Maybe that was why he’d said nothing of their future? She wasn’t really that much of a catch, was she? An egghead, and living off a university stipend until this government job came through. Solving puzzles must seem trivial to a man used to war.
Chapter Nineteen
Each day thereafter, Zigzag became more and more attached to her until she would sometimes trip over him when she turned from looking out a window.
Most days, Dankyo made love to her—sometimes tender, sometimes rough, and making her beg for every iota of pleasure he gave her. Sometimes he took her to the very edge and left her there exhausted, panting, sweating, with red marks on her flesh. Afterward, she’d lie upon the bed spread-eagled, with her mind and body blown apart by whatever he’d chosen to do to her.
He’d be there next to her, toying with her hair and stroking her as she came back to life. Sometimes there’d be a little frown on his forehead, as if he worried about her, or perhaps about their future.
She prayed ever so hard that it was their future, because the man who was too dangerous to let into her heart had somehow captured it entirely.
I surrender. I’m yours for eternity
, she wanted to announce. Corny, but true.
But why did he not say this? She’d tried, but she couldn’t. She feared his
no
. What did she have to offer a man who had found his place in life fifteen years ago? Besides, he was the most forthright man she knew. If
he
didn’t say anything, she knew without a doubt she was just a passing amusement.
The only weakness Dankyo showed was at night while asleep. Several times she’d been woken by him shouting out loud. The twitching of his face and mumbled words made her sure he suffered nightmares like he had on the airship. She’d tried again to shake him awake, and the acute look of terror in his brown eyes when he looked up had made her heart falter. She’d not dared since. Whatever demons haunted him never surfaced in the daytime anyway. Soldiers would have more than their fair share of bad memories.
On Tuesday night, they arrived on the outer wall of the compound to watch the weekly bombardment of Byzantium by the Ottoman.
Sofia stepped up to the chest-high rampart. The stone was cold and gritty under her fingers. Bolt marks on the floor, and the wide gap to her right were signs of an old cannon mounting. The only functioning weapon emplacements left in the wall were a story below. Dankyo had said their small caliber was only intended to repel boat attacks. She went up on her toes, peered over, and spotted the weapons. At the far corners, three gun barrels on bulky turrets protruded past the line of the wall.
The dark band below was the river. Others had decided to have a late picnic on the wall. Farther along, to her left, couples and groups clinked glasses and murmured in quiet conversation. A whine and hoarse clicking at her feet told her Zigzag was there.
“Hey, boy. How’s it going?”
Though the clockwork creature surely couldn’t think very well, he was as loyal as any real dog, maybe more so. Why he’d attached himself to her was a puzzle even she hadn’t yet solved.
“He’s starting to follow me too sometimes.” In the evening quiet, Dankyo kept his voice low.
“Oh?” She scratched at the loose rock under her hand. “I’m almost done, you know?”
She glanced across at him where he’d settled next to her, his folded arms resting on the top of the stone. The last light showed wind riffling the top of his black close-cut hair. The navy frock coat, silver tie, and stark white shirt made him look so manly, so aristocratic, so damned scrumptious.
“Almost done?” He rubbed the corner of his eye, then concentrated on her. “With the warrior?”
“Yes. Tomorrow I’ll stop taking notes, then give myself a few days to be sure, then it’s
the
day.”
I should be smiling
. Yet a gray sludge had seeped in and was weighing her down. Why? Was it just fear that she might be wrong? Surely not?
“Good. Once we’re done here, I’ll be a lot happier. There’s a group down there with Henry and Annie in it. We should say hello.”
Once we’re done here
… Yes, that was it. There was nothing to look forward to. Accolades maybe, for solving the puzzle, but that would be like sand drizzling through her fingers and blowing away without Dankyo. Proving herself to her family had become nothing of consequence. She ached, plain
ached
to know if she and Dankyo had a future. Why didn’t he say something?
Where Dankyo had indicated, ten or more people were talking together. The ancient wall here was wide enough for small fires, and there were even braziers where she guessed soldiers must once have cooked meals.
When she hesitated, he took her shoulder. “What is it?”
“It” was too difficult to say. Her heart thudded. She shook her head, picking a granule of quartz from the rock with her fingernail.
“Do I have to be your slave? I’ve not spoken as an equal in public for days. Can I talk like a normal adult?”
“No, I’m sorry. Henry knows, but only him. I think Annie is there also. It’s not safe. Come. We won’t stay long.”
She let her shoulders slump and followed. Ahead, Dankyo’s broad back blocked out the light.
She had to say something. Not reaching for what she wanted was foreign to her nature. How many years had she forced herself to be counted among the go-getters?
Many, many years. She sighed. And all that time she’d hated it. She’d never liked being noticed.
Their heads turned to her as she and Dankyo neared the group.
“Evening, ladies and gents.” Dankyo nodded and shook hands with them all while she stayed at his side. No one addressed her. Here in Byzantium slaves weren’t worthy of being talked to, as far as she could tell.
Captain Riccardo, a man of olive complexion and short dark hair, paid her attention but only by stripping her with his eyes.
Ugh
. The one man she knew well apart from Dankyo was Henry, and he was sitting next to Annie and so enthralled by her conversation that an explosion would not have disturbed him.
The feeling of alienation grew. Dankyo gave the hand signal to kneel. She recognized the subtle movement even in the light of dusk. It was different from the one taught by Tansu, but she’d never forget it. He gave her a pillow, and Zigzag curled up next to her for a few minutes, then trotted off.
This was like being the least-welcome person invited to a party. Most of the others sat on chairs they’d brought with them. A small foldable table held plates of snacks and wine bottles and glasses. She fidgeted, winding the cloth of her little red taffeta skirt about her finger, then releasing it, and repeat. Ad infinitum.
At least her skirt wasn’t see-through. And the bodice for once was merely a black sheath that clung to her curves. The cool gusting breeze tugged at the thick braid of her hair.
Oh, this was so boring. And annoying, as the captain sneaked looks at her breasts whenever he could.
Has the man never seen a woman?
Perhaps it was the novelty of her being a slave? But they were everywhere here.
At their beckoning, Zigzag went to the man beside the captain, and he trailed his fingers over the clock dog’s golden skin. Then, to her disgust, the captain plucked and snapped off one of the gold tendrils on Zigzag’s hind leg. Dankyo was oblivious and kept talking to a blonde woman.
Damn him.
She hissed. Then gathered her courage. “Sir. May I speak?”
“Later.” Then he carried on with his conversation.
Argh!
The clock dog had never made a true noise apart from the mechanical ones and now he just limped away, obviously injured, came to her, and huddled close. Though she craved yelling at the captain or doing something violent, she could only seethe. The man lifted a brow and sipped his wine. He knew.
Bastard.
Maybe Henry could fix him, later. Pointless going on about it. She’d look wrong if she kept annoying Dankyo after he’d told her
later.