Blaise jerked his chin toward her barricade. “What happened to you?”
She folded her arms over her bosom. “Let's just say I found it necessary to protect myself.”
He strode across the room to stand before her. Dark head bent, his gentle eyes studied her face. “Blueboy?”
Grey nodded.
“Did he hurt you?”
All the panic and determination of the last few hours swelled to a bubble in her chest. Blaise's presence sent a current through the ball of emotion. Grey dropped her arms and took a ragged breath. “No. I won't let him touch me.” She raised her chin, locking eyes with the Mad Tock.
To her surprise, Blaise took a step backward. His gaze traveled to the bed then whizzed to his boots. “They're not like us. Their only concern is keeping sufficiently warm and pliable. There's no disease, no pregnancy, no one looking over their shoulders.”
“Like in Mercury?”
His brow creased.
“When did you come here, Blaise? Nettie, the maid, made it sound like you'd always been here, but that would make you over a hundred years old. You had to have come through the cabinet, like me. Who are you, really?”
He shook his head, the long threads of his hair brushing his shoulders. “Iâthat was so long ago.”
“Why are you the only human in this place?”
“I'm not the only human anymore.” Focus returned to her features. “Come with me, Grey.”
The pattern on Grey's torso flared. She put a few feet between her and the tall boy standing by the bed.
“Are you asking me to join your militia?”
“I'm not asking you to join anything. Just let me show you Curio. When I'm done, you can always come back here.” His voice flattened on the last word, and he gestured toward the obstructed door.
Maybe it was his confusion a moment ago, the way his forehead crumpled in concentration. Maybe it was the torn clothing and his loyalty to his friends. Maybe it was her sheer dread of the morning and Blueboy's steam-driven touch. A fence folded in Grey's heart. She set the parasol down and moved to stand next to him, her thigh brushing the end of the bed.
“All right. I'll come.”
Liquid eyes locked with hers. He fumbled with a strap on his chest and tilted his head toward the window. “Let's go.”
She followed him onto the tiny stone veranda. Heavy Curio fog blanketed the side yard and estate. She and Blaise stood on an island surveying a wispy sea. He turned to her, his wings extending behind him like an angel preparing for flight. As he brought his left arm across his body, a wince gripped his features, but he quickly covered it. He held the strap on his chest open.
“This will help hold you when we fly.”
She took a step closer and started to turn her back to meet his chest, but a hand on her arm drew her short.
She looked up over her shoulder. His face hovered an inch from hers, his full lower lip a mere breath from her cheek. In the shadows she couldn't read his expression.
“In the raid, I met with one of Blueboy's metal soldiers.”
Grey pivoted. The closeness of their bodies invaded her senses. Her thoughts slowed until a realization surfaced. “You're hurt.”
A small smile quirked at the corner of his lips. “I'm afraid you'll have to hold on.”
Heat flooded the space between them. Grey searched the depths of his eyes. Like Whit, he was part boy, part manâpain and burden mixed with vigor and passion for life. Old eyes in a young man's face. A silent plea creased the skin at the edge of his black-fringed lids. Grey stepped into his arms. His chest stiffened, but he tucked the strap around her body, securing it beneath his arm. Did he tremble from the pain? Grey bit her lip. Her pulse raced.
“Can I help?” she whispered, her lips brushing a canvas strap.
He moved his hand to the small of her back and guided her closer. Grey gasped at the same time he jolted. Her mark flared hot and pulled at her belly, like the swirls tried to leave her skin and hook into Blaise's. He froze in the act of securing another strap and sucked in a breath. The hard planes of his stomach inched away from hers for a moment, and he turned his head away as if steeling himself. Grey's cheeks burned, and she held herself still despite the lava flowing beneath her skin.
With a deep breath, Blaise faced her once again and finished fastening the strap at her waist, locking them together in his harness. Grey slipped her arms around his broad back, her hands gliding over hard muscles. Again he went rigid.
Her mark danced between them, tugging her skin toward his. Could he feel it, or was he just unaccustomed to human touch? Not that she'd ever experienced anything like this before. Maybe this was why contact was illegal back home.
He cleared his throat. Grey watched the cords in his neck move. She couldn't see his eyes from her position.
“When we're in the air, lock your legs around me. The straps are tight, but you could slip out and I don't trust my arm to hold you.”
She nodded against his chest and wove her hands underneath the steam pack, finding a grip among the belts of his harness.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
His hand moved at her side, tugging the bellow cord out and away from their tangled bodies. After a few moments a whir sounded from the joints in the wings. They began to flap on their own.
“Takes a little longer to lift off when I don't run or jump off something to gain momentum,” Blaise said.
The humid air and his warm, spicy scent made her head swim. When their feet left the ground, she clutched Blaise to anchor herself as dizziness pushed in from all sides. His good arm tightened around her.
They ascended in a vertical line, the huge wings beating the air. A cool breeze skimmed the low-lying fog. For a moment they hovered, the draft playing over exposed skin and tangling her blonde hair with his dark coils. The clouds hid the city below. The rise and fall of their breathing matched, and with her ear resting on Blaise's chest, the beat of his heart echoed through her.
She wasn't alone in Curio anymore.
Blaise tilted his upper body, and she hooked her legs around his waist just before gravity dragged her feet toward the earth. He groaned low in his throat.
“Your shoulder?”
He gave a low laugh and they glided forward, gaining speed.
“Just hang on,” he said.
W
ith Grey clinging to him, Blaise struggled to keep his attention on picking out the route to Gagnon's in the fog. She shifted, her legs tightening around his hips. The movement sent sparks skittering through his veins. She must be getting tired, but when she spoke, it wasn't to complain. Her low voice underscored the rush of wind around them.
“You don't remember how you got here?”
Blaise moistened his lips. His mouth grid hung to the side, allowing for unencumbered speech. “I remember. I just haven't thought about it in a long time.”
That wasn't true. His own arrival in Curio had hurtled into his thoughts the moment he glimpsed Grey's form falling through the fog. Since that night, memories leaked in at the strangest times.
Her head twisted into his chest, her breath warming the base of his throat. “I was sent to find someone. I think it's you.”
“Why?”
“I don't know precisely why. I broke the law and they came for me, even though I'm underage. Adante wanted my blood. My grandfather”âher voice caughtâ“he told me to run to his store. When I got there, Haimon, his shop assistant, told me to âFind him and bring him back.' That's all there was time for.”
Blaise stiffened. Back. Back to that bleak place. A muted ache invaded his heart. “Why?” he said again.
“I told you I don't know. Iâ”
“No, why do you think I'm the one you're supposed to bring back?”
The whistle of air around them filled half a minute, then her breath tickled his collarbone.
“Well, who else could it be?”
Blaise didn't have an answer.
He navigated by the cable line. Once the Shelf fell away underneath them, the labyrinth of Cog Valley stretched to the great basin that emptied into Lower. Clusters of light in the dark expanse marked the tock boxing arenas. A brownish glow hung over the mouth, a combination of dim light from the workers' lanterns and fumes leaking up from the underground lake.
Gagnon's line of hangars formed a semicircle around the eastern edge of the mouth. Blaise made for the first structure, where a green light beamed into the night. Callis must've altered one of the fixtures to act as their signal. Grey grunted and swung her left hip higher against his torso, sliding her right foot down his leg in a stretch. Blaise fought for control of his breathing. This flight needed to end. Soon.
They set down in a dirt yard tainted by the weak light spilling from a window. Grey's feet met the ground, but she slumped against him.
“My legs are asleep.”
He unfastened the straps binding them together, and she wobbled a step backward. The absence of her body left him cold and hungry.
As she stamped her feet, Blaise surveyed the nearest section of the huge lot. Wagons with equipment and hulking devices that resembled hunched, inanimate mining tocks
lined up behind the open door of one hangar. The building with the signal light was small compared to the others. Bits of mismatched metal clung to the side of it like scales.
He walked toward the door, but it opened before he'd taken three steps. Callis emerged, followed by Gagnon and another gearish tock. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Grey straighten. She edged closer to him.
“Here he is.” Callis spread his hands. “Well done, Blaise.”
The mended porcie shifted to peer around Blaise at Grey. She stepped out from behind him, her back stiff.
“Callis, may I present Miss Grey.” Blaise turned to Grey and opened his mouth to introduce his friend, but whirring motion halted his words. In a matter of seconds, the tock Blaise didn't recognize stood behind Grey, his crude hands clamped on her arms.
She gave a startled cry and looked to Blaise. Her blue eyes widened. For an instant, Curio blurred out and only he and Grey stood there facing each other. Two humans alone among strange creatures. Stages of betrayal played over her features. Shock. Denial. Hurt.
The moment passed, and Grey thrashed against her captor. Blaise whipped around to face Callis.
“What are you doing? Tell him to let her go.”
Confusion stamped Callis's melded features. “This was our plan, was it not?”
Grey paused in her struggle, and Blaise felt her glare penetrate his thick hair and bore into his skull.
“I-I didn't mean for it to be like this,” he said.
The tock, who surely had boxing experience, hoisted Grey off her feet. She writhed, her blonde hair whipping about her head and lips spewing abuse, mostly at Blaise.
He flung a hand toward the boxer. “No. We can't do this. The plan has changed.” But the tock disregarded him and
hauled Grey into the metal building, Gagnon following with a nod aimed at Callis.
Ignoring the twinge in his shoulder, Blaise grabbed his friend and gave him a rough shake. “Grey came with me willingly. Blueboy's obsession with her has grown dangerous. You should have seen itâshe was barricaded in her room, keeping him out! We can't give her back to him. He'll take her apart in the name of Beauty.”
Callis broke away from Blaise's grip. “And what are they doing to Seree
right now
? Tell me that.” He paused, and when he spoke again it was with a measure of calm. “I'm sorry Blueboy turned against her, but it doesn't change my mission.”
“How can you say that? You're not a monster, Callis. You never were, even in Lower.”
The ping of rising steam against metal sounded from the porcie's chest. “What would you suggest, Blaise? We have to get Seree back.”
“I know.” Blaise slid a hand into the woven hair at the base of his neck. The wires bit into his palm, but the pain helped him focus.
“Let me talk to her. At least let me explain she isn't our prisoner.”
“Indeed, she is.”
Granite lined Blaise's chest. He took a step toward Callis, using the five inches he had on the modified to tower over him. “You will treat Grey with the same kindness you would show a broken porcie child. We are not the brutal beasts who run this city.”
“Not yet,” Callis said. He swung around and strode toward the door.
Blaise followed, his thoughts racing ahead to Grey. He had to keep her out of Blueboy's grasp and somehow get
Seree back. And after that? If Grey truly was sent to bring him home . . . No, he wasn't free yet to travel back to the human world, not even in speculation.