by Becca Andre
“But—”
“It wasn’t my only project.” He gave her a smile over his shoulder. “I have many other ideas.”
“All right.” She crossed her arms. “But you’re abandoning this one because of me.”
The panel that had just detached itself from the body of the locomotive floated to a stack of similarly sized pieces of metal before landing with a clank.
Grayson faced her. “There is some truth to that,” he admitted. “But it’s not the sole reason.” He walked over to her. “The world isn’t ready for this type of technology.”
“I thought it wasn’t ferromantic.”
“That’s right. It’s mostly electric.”
“That’s an emerging technology that I understand is becoming quite popular in the East.”
“But my electric motor doesn’t require a pre-existing source of electricity. It generates its own.”
She stared at him in amazement. “You must tell me more.”
He laughed at her enthusiasm, closing the distance between them. His hands settled on her waist, and he pulled her closer. “You’re going to make my life interesting, Briar Rose.”
“I thought I already did that.”
“Mmm. Yes, you most definitely do.” He leaned down and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, relishing the freedom to kiss him this ardently. Things had been so busy lately with the settling of Andrew’s estate and plans for the wedding, that they had gotten little time alone.
The thought no sooner crossed her mind when the door to the shed rumbled open.
She stepped away from him. “Can’t we get a moment—”
Grayson gripped her shoulder, pulling her back as he stepped in front of her. She didn’t get to question him as an oddly metallic roar filled the shed.
She leaned around Grayson and her heart leaped as she spied the silver lion pacing toward them. It was Solon’s construct.
A gesture from Grayson and one of the nearby sheets of metal levitated from the pile it rested on, then shot across the space to slam into the construct, sending the metal creature rolling.
She opened her mouth, to ask Grayson what it was doing here when he spun to face her.
“Look out!” He shoved her aside, hard enough to send her to the ground, at the same moment a gun fired. The bullet must have found him because he fell back, landing on the hard-packed dirt floor with a grunt.
“Grayson!” She started to crawl toward him when the sound of a gun cocking pulled her up short.
“Have you learned nothing?” a familiar accented voice asked.
She looked over her shoulder to see Solon step around the far end of the locomotive.
“A lead shot won’t kill him.” Solon leveled the gun on her. “But you on the other hand—”
Grayson shoved himself up on his hands and knees with a snarl of pain. “Lower the gun, Solon, or I’ll make you eat it.” Grayson must be too far away to take it from him.
“Is that supposed to frighten me, Drake?” Solon’s laugh was ugly. “As soon as I kill the bitch that destroyed our race, I fully intend to let you finish what she started.” Solon raised the gun, aiming at her face.
“Lock!” Grayson shouted at the same moment another metallic roar echoed around the shed.
The metal lion had regained its feet and pounced, its claws unsheathed as it reached for Grayson.
A tingle enveloped her throat and she expected to feel Lock’s armor flow over her body. Instead, he sprang from her shoulder, leaping toward Solon. He morphed as he went, growing in size until he blocked her view of Solon.
The gun fired and Lock roared—literally roared—the sound almost deafening in the small space.
Briar shoved herself to her feet and stumbled back a step. Lock was still Lock, but he was the size of a small horse. He lunged at Solon, the move lightning fast, and snapped his silver jaws over the gun and jerked it from his hand. With a twist of his head, he flung the gun away. It flew across the shed and smacked into the wall before falling to the ground.
Lock turned to look back over his shoulder, his bright eyes now on Grayson who lay beneath Solon’s construct. Briar thought he might attack, but Lock turned his attention back to Solon.
She was about to command Lock to help Grayson when the lion gave a cry of distress. That’s when she saw that Grayson had pressed his hand to the creature’s chest. As she watched, his hand sunk into the silver metal, just as he’d done with that badly devolved ferromancer at the gala.
The lion threw back its head with a panicked cry. A flash of silver light and the lion vanished in a puff of gray powder.
Solon dropped to his knees.
With a pained grunt, Grayson climbed to his feet, his hand still clenched in a fist.
“Grayson?” Briar took a step toward him, but he waved away her help, limping over to stop before Solon.
“Go ahead,” Solon whispered. “Finish me.”
Grayson opened his hand, exposing the small orb of golden light he held. The light immediately dissipated and faded away.
“I said finish me!” Solon surged to his feet and lunged at Grayson.
Briar gasped, but Lock sprang forward, batting Solon aside with his head. The blow sent Solon stumbling and he landed on his butt with a grunt.
“I won’t kill you,” Grayson said softly. “You’ve been given a new life. A chance to right your wrongs and—”
“Wrongs? I did nothing wrong.” Solon climbed to his feet once more, but the fight seemed to have gone out of him. “I dedicated my entire life to try to save us and that bitch,” he jabbed a finger in Briar’s direction, “destroyed it all.”
“No.”
“Yes! Look at me.” He spread his hands. “I am nothing. No better than those mortal slugs who share our world.”
“But you can feel—”
“I feel nothing. My soul is trapped in this suit of meat that will age and rot away. I have no connection to anything: no sense of the earth beneath my feet, no awareness of the living metal around me, or even the blood in my own veins. I’m dead. Our race is dead and you let it happen!” His voice rose to a shout at the end.
“I’m not going to argue with you and I’m not going to kill you,” Grayson said, his words ferromancer cool. “Go away, Solon. Reap what you’ve sown.”
Briar frowned at that. Was Grayson implying that Solon had received his just reward? That being made human was his punishment?
“Very well,” Solon agreed. “I’ll see you in hell.” He turned and walked away.
Briar moved closer to Grayson’s side, surprised that he was going to let Solon go. Or maybe she wasn’t surprised. She knew that deep down, Grayson had respected Solon’s effort to save their race, he just didn’t approve of his methods. Without Solon, Grayson would have grown up in a ferra stronghold, and once old enough, would have been given to Lucrezia. He would have been used to father her children, then left to devolve and ultimately be destroyed, never seeing the world outside. Never encountering Fabrice Martel, never aspiring to become an inventor, and never meeting her.
Briar reached out and took Grayson’s hand. She debated sharing her understanding of the situation, to let Grayson know that she was aware of the role Solon had played in his life, and how this turn of events must hurt him. She was about to do just that when she noticed that Solon wasn’t walking toward the entrance. He was headed toward the spot where his gun had landed.
“Grayson, he’s—”
Solon picked up the gun before she could finish.
Grayson stepped in front of her at the same moment Lock lunged toward Solon.
The gun fired and Briar flinched.
Grayson gasped, but he didn’t fall or jerk with the impact of a bullet. In the silence, a thump sounded from across the shed.
Briar stepped aro
und Grayson and saw Solon lying on the ground, the gun still clutched in his fist. Lock hadn’t reached him. Solon had shot himself.
Grayson walked past her, the limp now gone from his stride as his body had repaired itself, replacing what was broken with metal. She would take care of that later. Now, she followed him across the shed.
In the dim light, she could see the growing puddle of red beneath Solon’s head.
“He hated being human that much?” she whispered.
“He had nothing to live for,” Grayson answered, his words just as soft. “No race to save. Esme and Tristan were gone.”
That did make a kind of sense, but it didn’t relieve what truly worried her. “What about you?” she forced herself to ask.
Grayson pulled his gaze from Solon’s body. “Me?”
“Would you let me make you human?”
His eyes held hers, but his expression gave nothing away. “You need me to remain as I am to finish altering the remnants of my race. It takes our magics working together to make a ferromancer human. And with that in mind, I’m not sure if you can make it work on me.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. If I could make you human, would you want me to?”
“Oh.” His gaze returned to Solon.
“You’ve agreed that what I did at the gala was the only viable solution, and you’re willing to help me track down others of your race and do the same for them, but you’ve never expressed how you feel about that.”
“It’s necessary.”
“So is mucking out the stable.”
A faint smile curled his lips, but faded quickly. “I have no future and neither does my race.” He took a steadying breath and continued. “But being human…” He opened himself to her and shared the confusing mix of emotion he felt. Being made human frightened him. And though he accepted the necessity of it, being a ferromancer was all he’d ever known.
I have no way of knowing, but I wouldn’t think being human would be that different, she said.
As Solon pointed out, ferromancers are connected to their environment in ways that humans are not. Not to mention, without my magic, we would lose this ability to connect.
All right. She would miss that.
You once said that this connection between us has spoiled you. That you could never have a relationship with a man that wasn’t me.
“That’s true, but not because of the magic,” she said. “The magic might have helped us connect and let us get to know each other faster, but it’s not what made me fall in love with you.”
He seemed to relax a little, but his expression was still uncertain. “And if I decide that I don’t want to be human?”
“I will respect your wishes,” she answered, though her stomach knotted. Did this mean that deep down, he felt as Solon had?
“Thank you.” He seemed relieved. “I know that’s not the answer you wanted to hear.”
“My ultimate goal wasn’t to make you human; it was to stop you from devolving. To save you.”
“But you can stop me from devolving.”
“Indefinitely?” she asked.
“I don’t have an answer.”
And neither did she. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find another way to save your race.”
He cupped her cheek, a soft smile on his face. “What you can do is a miracle. One that frightens me, yes, but a miracle all the same. You’ve given my brothers a chance to have a real life.”
“Solon didn’t think so.”
“As I said, Solon had nothing to live for, but look at Felipe. He understands.” Grayson chuckled, his levity surprising her. “I see the irony,” he explained. “Unlike my brothers, I have the most to live for. Tomorrow we start our new lives.”
She smiled, though a nervous flutter stirred her stomach. Tomorrow she would marry him. He started to speak, but she reached up and pressed a finger to his lips.
“I get it,” she said. “Your reservations about being human aren’t a failing on your part, or any kind of affront to me. To contemplate that kind of change…it must be terrifying.”
“And you’re not changing your life as well?”
“I don’t think it’s the same thing.”
“Close enough.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. It was a chaste kiss. A brush of affection in this somber setting. “Go on,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of this.”
She wanted to ask if he intended to bury Solon here, but decided to leave that to him. She glanced over at Lock who sat quietly watching them.
“Look at you. I had no idea you could be so…big.” She reached up and rubbed Lock beneath the chin. He leaned into the caress as always and his metallic purr echoed around the room.
“I think he picked up on how the size of the other constructs amazed you. He wanted to impress you,” Grayson said.
Lock growled, the sound downright frightening in this larger form.
“It’s all right.” She rubbed the silver scales along his shoulder. “I know the truth.”
“The truth?” Grayson asked.
“Lock wasn’t the one who wanted to impress me. You did.”
“I can’t have you eyeing another man’s construct.” He winked. “Did it work? Were you impressed?”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t admit it, but the only reason I keep you around is because of your impressive construct.”
Lock drew himself up and gave Grayson a triumphant snort.
Briar laughed. Let’s go, Lock.
A shimmer of liquid metal and Lock returned to his usual size. Landing on her shoulder, he scampered down her waistcoat and morphed into the pocket watch before dropping inside.
“You know,” Grayson said, “that wasn’t really a criticism. After all, he is my construct.”
“I know.” This time she winked.
Grayson’s chuckle followed her to the door. Yes, change was scary, but her life would never be dull with this man. It was the last thing she would have expected for a life beyond the banks of the canal.
Chapter 22
The wedding was a simple affair aboard the deck of the Briar Rose. Since neither Briar nor Grayson had any family, the only ones they had to invite were the crew and Perseus and Kali. So Briar had encouraged the crew to invite their families. Eli had invited his sister and her family, Zach asked his cousin and her family, and Jimmy had brought his wife.
“That’s Mildred?” Grayson whispered in a rare quiet moment after the vows were said.
Briar looked up with a grin. “Not what you expected?”
Grayson arched an eyebrow, but refrained from comment. He didn’t need to say what he was thinking. She knew he was as shocked as every other person who met Jimmy’s wife for the first time. The petite, dark-haired beauty was not what anyone expected for her homey bowsman. Well, former bowsman.
“He has a pretty wife,” Grayson admitted. Though not as pretty as mine.
She smiled up at him, sharing how happy it made her to hear him call her his wife.
“I have a gift for you,” he said.
“But I have nothing for you.”
“You are my gift.”
“Grayson.”
He laughed and took her hand, pulling her toward the open door of the aft cabin. “I had Molly hide it in here.”
“How brazen. What if I had found it?”
“Unlikely.”
They stepped into the cabin, but pulled up short when they discovered it wasn’t unoccupied.
Briar’s mouth dropped open when she saw Eli and Molly locked in each other’s embrace and sharing what appeared to be a passionate kiss.
Grayson cleared his throat, and the pair pushed apart with a gasp. “Not fair,” Grayson complained. “I always got in trouble when I stole kisses aboard this boat.”
“There’s been more than one?” Eli d
emanded. He tried to sound gruff, but he couldn’t stop smiling. He looked down at Molly, who returned his grin.
“Let’s tell them first,” Molly said to Eli.
“Tell us what?” Briar asked, smiling herself. She had a suspicion where this was going.
Molly gave Eli an encouraging nod.
He cleared his throat, though he continued to grin like a mad man. “Miss Molly agreed to marry me.”
Briar couldn’t help it. She squealed like a little girl and threw her arms around Molly.
Laughing, Molly returned the embrace, and soon they both had tears in their eyes.
“And just when I thought this day couldn’t get any better,” Briar said, giving Eli a happy smile that he returned.
“We weren’t going to say anything,” Molly said. “This is your day, after all, but I wanted to let the both of you know before you leave town.”
Briar felt the now-familiar twist of emotion: excitement for the coming journey, but sadness to be leaving her friends behind.
“I think you should announce it now,” Briar said. “Right, Grayson?”
“Absolutely. It’s not like Briar will be able to keep quiet about it.”
She gave him a half-hearted smack on the shoulder.
“Ow.” He stepped away from her, but he was trying not to laugh. “Do you deny it?”
She shrugged. “You’re probably right.”
“But if you don’t mind,” Grayson said to Molly and Eli, “I’d like to give Briar her gift.”
“Oh yes.” Molly and Eli shared a knowing look. “We’ll be outside.”
They left the cabin, speaking softly to one another.
“Now where were we?” Grayson asked.
“Gift?”
“Right.” He walked to the table and, to her surprise, took down her fiddle case. He’d hidden her gift in there? It was actually a good location. She had no reason to open it.
He set the case on the table and unlatched it. “Go ahead.” He stepped back.
Not sure what to expect, she stepped up to the table. Glancing up, she met his gaze, and he gave her a nod.
She opened the case, and her mouth fell open. There, resting against the velvet, was her fiddle and re-haired bow.