Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles) (17 page)

“Clockwork?”

The doctor put his foot down, stomped a few times as if seating something into place, then shrugged. “Clockwork in emergencies. I use a voltaic battery for everyday use.” He walked to the boarding ladder. “Dinner will be informal.”

With the doctor gone, Sten took a moment to recheck the cabin. A hole showed in the center of the flight panel. He traced his finger around the brass-framed cavity that dived into the guts of the panel. “I’ll betcha this craft won’t go without whatever fits here.” The doctor was crafty. Some sort of machinery was missing.

Dinner on the circular rooftop meant sitting around a bonfire on wooden boxes covered with embroidered rugs, roasting skewered meat, and drinking warm champagne. Beyond a few yards out, the flickering light gave way to blackness. The tamped-down earth underfoot was common hereabouts for a roof.

“Vintage stuff.” The doctor waved his glass and skewer like a wild conductor, splashing wine into the fire and sending up a hissing puff of ash and flame. “Drink, eat, be merry, for tomorrow we fly.
Hic
.”

Sten dubiously eyed his skewer. Unknown meat. Kaysana was already chewing off a piece. She grinned, then sipped her wine, and he smiled back. That she’d sat down on the crate next to him pleased him so much.

He nibbled.
Not chicken… Damn well better not be human
. “Rabbit?”

“Hare. Not my pet, though—course. Would never
never
do that!”

“Eat up, Sten.” Kaysana leaned in. “This might be our last meal for a while.”

“Are you tipsy?”

She sighed. “No. I’m not. I’m air fleet, Sten, through and through. No matter how much what we might do scares the crap out of me, I won’t be getting drunk.”

Sten nodded. “Good.” He looked around. The doctor was busy poking the fire with what looked to be an antique sword, but he ignored the sacrilege. The clockwork python lay coiled at Dr. F.’s feet, and Emily… Sten blinked. Emily lay against Cadrach’s stomach, scratching his ears and feeding him meat while murmuring something. His wolf was turning into a pussy.

He lowered his voice. “So what scares the crap out of you?” He stared into Kaysana’s eyes, those beautiful amber eyes that reflected gold and yellow from the fire’s light. “Us making love?”

This time her swallow was a nervous one. He could’ve smiled then but stayed serious, kept his mouth quiet, letting her think. She didn’t look away, and to test her response, he placed his palm on her thigh. At the feel of her skin, his cock stirred. He glided his hand a few inches over the smooth, womanly curve—so warm, strong from regular exercise, and his fingers were only inches from the top of her legs, and he sure knew what lay there.
Lovely.

The skewer in her hand wobbled. “Oops!” She grabbed it tighter to stop it tumbling from her hand. “No, I’m not scared of…making love with you.” She briefly squeezed her eyes shut. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“No? I have, though—hurt you—a little. Remember?”

“Hmm.” Despite the gloom, he was sure she blushed. “That was, well, I guess I wanted it. I-I’ve figured that out.”

God, he loved seeing her stammer from embarrassment.

“You know, I’m figuring things out too,” he said softly. With his skewer held in his teeth for a moment, he pulled their two boxes together. The timber of her box screeched as it dragged. “Come here.”

Kaysana gave one deep exhale before shifting over until their bodies touched, and curling in under his arm. He kissed above her ear. “This is so right, woman. Like we should be doing this every night.” She sighed again, snuggled even closer, put her arm around his back. That she couldn’t reach past his opposite hip made him smile. She was small. Yet they fitted together so well.

“I know what you mean, Sten, I do. But it can’t be.” She sniffed. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company, hey?”

“Okay. For now.” He was going to sort this out. Surely she had to see they needed each other?

Time passed. The moon rose and hung like a blue-white battered plate a hand span above the horizon. The fire burned low, and the doctor got drunker. For once Sten’s courage failed him. He needed to ask his questions but couldn’t. Kaysana half lay across his lap, staring at the embers, and he calmed himself by stroking her lustrous hair. The jittery feeling in his stomach made him want to puke.

The doctor stood unsteadily, a bottle swinging in his hand. “I’m off to have a snooze. Wake me at dawn, won’t you, sir?”

Behind him, the door leading below clicked shut, and Emily approached.

“Wait, Doctor.” Sten threw his skewer into the fire pit. The packed earth on the roof had come in useful. Least the building wouldn’t burn down. “I have a question to ask.”

“You do?” Blearily he dragged his hand down his face. “Oh! Course. You want to know about your past?”

The man had him figured. Fuck, he hated being predictable, but he guessed it was obvious. “Yes.”

“Wait. Too drunk. Some of that info was in the reserve files… I was in on the experiments up there, you know? Even when Jurgland accidentally swallowed a teensy dose of the virogen. Went all glowy. Ish the reason I quit, ya know? They took all those files.” He swept his arm in an exaggerated arc. “The people who went earlier. Ya know? Chickens! All of ’em.”

“You sure of that, Doc?” Emily tapped his shoulder and, when he swung to face her, planted her feet and folded her arms. “’Cause I checked below and found this lovely room full of filing cabinets. I had to pick the lock, but seeing it said File Room, I figured it was worth it.”

“Wha? You did? They’re all…all empty.”

“No. They are not.”

Sten grinned at the sight of the little woman confronting the doctor. Fuck. She’d picked the lock?

“What have you found, Emily?” Kaysana leaned forward.

“Loads of full filing cabinets, ma’am. I shook them. The locks are harder to open, though, than the door’s. A librarian can sniff out books and stuff, you know, Doc. You”—she prodded his chest—“are lying!”

Whoa, remind himself never to get between Emily and books.

“Is that true, Doctor? I told you we needed those files.” Kaysana’s voice rose.

Before she could stand, Sten yanked her back by the waist. “Cough it up, Doc, before the ladies shred you.”

“Ish…ish. Oh hang it! Here!” Swaying, he searched the pockets of his frock coat. A silver fob watch tumbled from the coat and swung, glinting, from a chain. “Ah! I was just trying to save wasting time. There ish no miracle cure. It’s a virus. Incin…incinerate it. Starve it of nutrients! Do that and it will die out. The hard part is getting close.” He handed Sten an envelope. “The key. One story down. An’ my notes about you are on the table. Ya know, frankenstructs.”

Kaysana murmured, “If we can fit them in, I want everything loaded aboard. There’s always a chance we will find something worthwhile.”

“Of course.” He wanted to grab the doctor and shake him until his teeth rattled and he answered in greater detail, but it was pointless. Instead he let the man stumble over to where some mattresses were laid out on the roof. Luckily the parapet went up pretty high. The man wasn’t going to fall over.

“Thanks, Emily,” said Kaysana. “Well done. Go finish your meal. We’ll sort this out.”

“My pleasure. Knew he was being suspicious.” She smiled, saluted, then trotted over to where Cadrach lay.

Kaysana angled her head to peer up at him. “You good?”

“Sure.”

“I can imagine how much you want to look at those files. Me too. Looks like we have a heavy night of reading and toting them into the ship.” She poked him in the ribs. “Okay?”

He studied her. Did everyone see through him like this? “We’ll go together. But not yet.” Right now was special. Fuck, tomorrow they might die. The idea screwed into him, sharp and nasty.

“No?” Already he could see her relaxing, cuddling in closer. She knew as much about war and violence as he did. You took your moments of peace and held them tight. “Sounds good.”

“Sometimes your head thinks like it should. Sit here with me and enjoy the night.”

“Hmph.”

But…still, he couldn’t help thinking.

Sten clutched the envelope, half crushing it. Kaysana settled back down with her head in his lap.

Do I want her to know what’s said about frankenstructs? Or to know the terrible things done to us or that we have done to others?

The unfairness of his past struck him like a blow. Rocked by the unexpected, the world around him blurred. The crackling soared to life in his head, then tripped into a rhythmic pain.

No!

Calm
. To a slow count of ten, he took himself down from the near-peak of rage, until his thoughts washed in the ankle-deep waters of peace.

Damn. Haven’t been caught like that for ages.

He looked down at her, then let himself slip into a light trance, calming the flurries of anxiety. As if a scale had tipped from one extreme to the other, desire flared. He tucked away the envelope, then leaned over and drew a slow, spiraling line inside the whorls of her ear. The burbling sigh that came from deep in her throat made him smile.

He’d never seen her like this before—willingly coming to him. Not that he’d ever been a man to drag a woman away by her hair…not until Kaysana. Yet he accepted that this was part of his desires, deep down where he’d never before gone.

Tomorrow was a time for worry and world-altering events. Tonight was for love.

Kaysana turned on Sten’s lap and gazed up at him. The firelight made the creases and ridges of his face seem hard and frightening until his mouth twisted in a smile. How could she resist that invitation? She stretched up and played with the curves of his lips—then he opened and sucked in her finger. The snug, moist depth of his mouth echoed inside her, and she lowered her eyelids to savor the build of tension, squeezing her thighs together, imagining his mouth on her.

“Can I have my finger back?” she whispered.

Instead he delicately sank in his teeth, then sucked on her again. A weak groan broke from her mouth. Yet if he’d released her, she’d have been disappointed.

As if he saw her thoughts in her eyes, he nipped once more before reaching up and taking her hand away, gently placing it by her side. But she didn’t desire gentle. Not from Sten.

One finger slipped under her chin, then traced the long line of her jaw. “What do you want, Kaysana?”

He knew. How close she was. To giving in.

She swiveled and got her legs down, feet on the floor, then considered him, her face half turned away, observing this man, her master on so many occasions, from the corners of her eyes.
Can I do this? This isn’t the virus talking, this is me.

Before she could answer herself, she slipped to her knees before him on the bare earth. Then blinked up at him, stuck in limbo. She licked her lips and dug the words from her throat.

“Once only.” Swallowed. “Never again.”

She’d do it just this once, because her heart cried out for it.

If the world had crumbled, it seemed as if Sten would have ignored it. He studied her for a long time with narrow and intent eyes.

“Once. You’re giving me your body but not your soul, Kaysana. I want both.”

“What? I—” That prospect scared the hell out of her.

“Once and then you run away?” He planted his palms on his thighs. The sadness in his craggy face shocked her. Big, rugged, like a caveman come to life…but he wanted more from her? “You don’t share your fears with me.”

No. Not that
. She sat back on her heels, dumbstruck.

“Maybe”—he tilted his head—“sometime soon?”

She could say this. It didn’t commit her, not really. “Maybe.”

“Uh-huh. A wobbly ass maybe. I’ll take that for starters.” He bent over and said, each word clear as ice and cutting into her like a knife. “If you trust me, give me your wrists.”

Again she swallowed through a throat now desert dry, aware of her heart jumping inside her chest and of sweat prickling her back despite the coolness. She put one wrist on top of his open palm. He closed his hand, fingers and thumb securing her. Without tugging, already she could tell there was no give.

He waited. The earth was cold and gritty under her knees.
Why is this so hard to do?
Shaking, she put her other hand into his keeping.

“Thank you.” Keeping his large hand on his lap, he trapped both of hers at the wrists. The power in him transfixed her. Being fastened to this man with no choice remaining sent a joyful quiver into every inch of her body. Her heart raced away, leaving her spinning, a little satellite of Sten. He was the sun, and in one action, she’d become his follower, a penitent worshipper at his feet.

He pulled off the tie on her hair and dropped it to the crate. The feel of his fingers on her scalp as he combed out her hair made her hum in pleasure.

“Beautiful hair. Like silk.”

Using the same hand, he unbuckled his belt. The tinkling and slithering sounds made her tense. Methodically he threaded the belt out through the loops, his eyes never leaving her. Her nipples tightened. Would he hit her with that? Feeling deliciously cowed, she inched forward, waited to see if he would deny her, then rested the side of her head on his lap, over her hands and his. Being the small one felt good.

The sound of the belt coming loose had a bright inevitability. Coiled in his hand, he held it next to her mouth. The triangular end brushed her lips.

“Kiss it.”

She did so. Cool, rigid leather. Bitter taste, bittersweet smell, intoxicating, carrying the promise of pain and pleasure.

When he took the belt away, trailed the length down her spine, and leaned over her, she knew where he aimed to put it. The leather leaves of her skirt had already slipped and split to either side of her bottom, baring her to the night. A gust of the cold air buffeted her pussy.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Emily will see.”

“Do you think it matters? You’ve chosen. Keep still while I fuck you with the belt. You want it.”

Ahh
. A tear trickled out. She did. Ashamed though she was, she wanted this.