Sirens in Steam: Alliance of Silver & Steam Book 3

by Lexi Ostrow

  McKenna stood up and walked the two steps to the chair the bag sat on. Hastily, she jerked the zipper back and cursed as it got stuck. Zippers were still a rarity, and she personally preferred the snaps that most of the world used to secure things. McKenna gave a hard tug, and the zipper pulled the rest of the way down, sending one of the blouses flying into her face.

  “Oh, bloody hell! I shouldn’t have touched the blasted thing,” she said to no one as she grabbed the blouse and worked to cram it back in. She didn’t even know why she’d opened the bag in the first place.

  A second later, she grabbed her watch off the furniture and sighed once more. Less than three minutes had passed. Anxiety would likely be the death of her at this rate. There were so many questions turning over and over in her mind. So many fears, hopes and annoyances.

  Annoyances.

  She hadn’t seen Jacob in two nights, not since the failed hunting mission. As quickly as she thought of his name, his angular face and blonde locks formed in her mind. She chewed her lower lip as she thought about how dashing he looked with hair just to his sharp cheekbones. Desire welled up inside of her as it did every time she thought about him, and she scowled.

  Jacob Tresay had tried to make up for his foul behavior in a manner befitting royalty. In truth, in a manner of a man courting a female. At first, the beautiful midnight blue gown he’d bought her had seemed like much more than it was. Until she’d accepted, and he’d stuck his foot in his mouth again, speaking about how he would spoil her with beautiful things until they could work together again.

  At seven and ten, she couldn’t blame herself for having fallen for the attractive man. He had been stunning to look at, intelligent, charming and had offered wealth and security that any lady dreamt of. One night, he’d even dared to fancy her. She had come to bring him peppermint and hot water, to ease off the effects of too much ale with his comrades. His lips had been on hers before she’d even known what was happening, and he’d passed out drunk nearly as quickly. A week later, she had been traded to the clockworker’s guild, simply left with the assumption that he had been disgusted he’d touched a servant and had wanted her out.

  It was, in all honesty, part in parcel to some of her anger toward him. Even if he had not insulted her the night they’d kissed again, she would always hate him for showing her a taste of compassion and then throwing her away.

  “Let the past go, McKenna,” she sighed and chided herself.

  For months, she had dreamt of ways the scenario in her youth could have gone differently. All improbable and all would have kept her from getting to the Alliance of Silver and Steam, where she felt she belonged. Yet, she dared to dream, to hope and fantasize every minute since their encounter. He had no clue of her past it seemed and perhaps regarded her as a defiant member of the ton. Many of the Alliance members came from a wealthy past.

  Regardless of the reason, he had kissed then, and more recently, he had ruined her for all other men. Even in the quiet of the room, her lips were tingling with the memory of his most recent kiss.

  Enough. Jacob has no interest in you, beyond you not killing him in his sleep on the mission. Do not be foolish. Distract yourself, if you must, but do not sleep and dream of him. Do not, McKenna thought with a growl.

  It was hardly past ten in the evening. Hunters ran on a later time clock, being active at night when the demons were, so there was no hope for sleep to come on time. It didn’t matter that they were leaving for the docks shortly after morning meal. She couldn’t leave the guild, none of the traveling party could, in case they faced a demon and sustained an injury. Her restlessness was going to be the end of her as she waited for morning to come.

  “Now would be a very good time to have one of Eliza’s tin mutts,” she grumbled.

  Her eyes caught sight of her communicator in the dim candlelight, and McKenna reached for the device. Perhaps she could reach out to someone, speak with someone until she grew tired. She grabbed the device from the corner of the bed and stared at the dials.

  It looked like nothing more than a wristwatch to anyone who looked only at the face. Yet, it, like the Alliance, hid a secret. The watches were on some level tied to one another through the crystals. A certain combination of gear tapping could result in communicating with the member whose device’s crystal had been programmed to that setting. Another Angel present, she was certain. The inventors at the Alliance were skilled indeed, but the devices had been in place since the Alliance began, there was no way she believed human hands had completely crafted them.

  Her fingers itched toward the two dials she could turn to reach Felicia. Did she really want to bother the woman, though? McKenna twisted one dial, and then the other quickly, holding her breath and hoping Felicia wouldn’t be angry.

  “This is Felicia.”

  “Felicia, it’s McKenna. I was wondering, might you have a moment?”

  “Oh, yes, with a screaming youth, a husband complaining up a storm about his sexual appetites whilst I’ll be away and listening to Lucius ramble on about how to pilot Eliza’s invention, I’ve got plenty of time for a chat with you,” Felicia said acerbically.

  McKenna swallowed and felt utterly foolish. Of course, Felicia would have better things to do than amuse her. They might have trained together for the past months, but they were not friends. Not as Felicia and Eliza were. McKenna had no connection to the lot of them attending the mission, aside for the Alliance, and she questioned if they would protect her over each other.

  “McKenna, what do you need? You’re silent, and I’m not in the mood for games with anyone but Greyston, once I kick Eliza and Lucius out of our parlour.”

  “I’m sorry, Felicia. I was just, well, anxious. I had wanted to speak to you, as I know your first mission was only two years ago,” she stuttered and fumbled her way through the sentence.

  She heard a long drawn out sigh on the other end, followed by the distinct caterwaul of a child. No matter how badly she wanted to talk to someone about anything to distract her from tomorrow, Felicia would not be the one.

  “No, I’m all right. I’ll just get some sleep. Sorry to have bothered you.” McKenna twisted both dials back on the communicator to cut the connection before Felicia could respond.

  Sighing, she set her communicator aside and pulled the blanket out from under her arse. She wasn’t permitted to speak to her friends about the mission, which meant there was no one to converse with, and she’d do best to simply try and sleep. As she lay down, she briefly wondered what a bed on a ship was like, and closed her eyes.

  Out in the hall, she could hear footsteps on the concrete and senseless chatter. Her eyes could only squeeze shut so tightly, and it appeared it wouldn’t be tight enough. The buzz chime of the communicator sounded through the room, and she bolted upright to grab it, pushing in the device to connect her to the person on the other end.

  “Hello?”

  “Glad to see I have not woken you,” Jacob’s delicious voice drifted out of the device.

  McKenna clenched her teeth. She had wanted someone to talk to, but Jacob had not been an option. “What do you want?”

  “To apologize. For everything. We’re embarking on a dangerous journey tomorrow, and whether we like the scenario or not, we are stuck together. What you said to me the other night, about how Philippe being unwilling to do his job led to all of this mess, well, I don’t want my actions to result in another mess. I’d like to call a truce, McKenna.”

  She was hardly able to refrain from jamming her finger in her ear and rubbing vigorously to ensure nothing had hampered her hearing. If she had learned anything these past months, it was that Jacob was entitled and liked to be treated as such. An apology was extremely out of character. So much so, she was skeptical.

  “What’s the catch?” she asked as she lay back down onto the mattress.

  “There is no catch, McKenna. What I did was inappropriate. You were open to it so I will not take full blame. But to touch a woman, whose status I do
not know, is wrong. For all I know, you are virgin, and I could have stolen something precious, purely because you were beautiful to look at.”

  The words both stung and made her smile. He found her attractive, and he also thought she might be unpure. “And what of me now?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If it were now, instead of that night months ago, would you have insulted me after a moment of passion?”

  He was silent for a moment, and she wondered if he would back down. “You are still beautiful McKenna. You are also smart and skilled fighter. I do not think I would have touched you at all, I know how much damage you can do to me now.” He chuckled.

  Tears formed in her eyes, and she pushed them away. A man had never told her she was attractive and then shunned her so quickly. Not even the many the men in the pubs she’d turned down when they’d tried to slip inside her skirts. She should be grateful Jacob was not interested in her in a romantic fashion; it could never be more than a fleeting moment she would likely regret when it was done.

  That didn’t stop her from wanting it, though.

  “Well, thank you for your honesty. I accept your apology, finally. If that is all, we have a momentous moment coming for us in the morning, and I would like to not drain the communicator completely before we leave.

  “Of course. Forgive me for interrupting you. I cannot promise we will get on without fighting during this journey, but you have my respect now, and I will do my best to remember you are a capable female and not a serving wench. However, I’d recommend not seeking me out in the evening, McKenna. I might know you can kick my arse, but it doesn’t change how attracted to you I am, and this attraction is pointless. Goodnight, McKenna.”

  The connection was cut as she gasped at his words. It wasn’t likely it was a hint that he remembered her, but it was another point against her fantasies for him. He wanted her body, and she wanted him for the man she had seen him be—the intelligent and commanding man he’d been becoming just before she left. His looks were, of course, a factor, but every moment spent with him had been just another glimpse into his integrity. Jacob had no reason to be involved in the fight, and she could tell every time he talked, that he truly wanted to help. He was just unused to violence and death. Another reason he was likely no good for her if they stripped titles aside. She was entering a life full of nothing but violence and death.

  It took everything she had to gently set the communicator down, versus pitching it at the wall in anger.

  She closed her eyes once more and sniffled back a slew of fresh tears. She had grown attracted to Jacob in the past months, just as she had when she was younger. Harboring a fantasy had been the reason she’d been so catty to him. However, knowing that her fantasy would always be just that, upset her as well.

  His lips wouldn’t ever capture hers again, his body wouldn’t press into hers in any fashion, other than if one of them slipped. She’d not known what to make of his sloppy kiss when she was young, but the more recent one had left her tied in knots of lust.

  “Perhaps now you can forgive him and stop treating him so poorly. Even if he truly is a terrible hunter and a poor shot.” It was the last thought she had as she finally fell asleep.

  A sharp cry filled the room as the talented Ice Demon’s tongue flicked deep inside Seraphina’s body and wrung a climax from her. Her hips still undulated, and Neal’s tongue continued to stroke and tease out every drop of pleasure she had in her.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned as her head spun with sensual bliss.

  Her eyes snapped open as the waves of pleasure slipped away, and she slid backward on the bed, her body still pulsing from her orgasm. She grinned wickedly at the blond demon in her bed. Neal was by far her favorite plaything and for a good reason. His whole body was cold to the touch, and the feel of anything icy sliding in and out of her was too delicious to ignore.

  “I think it’s my turn now,” she said coyly and slowly grasped her hand around his bare cock.

  He groaned, and she dragged her nails up the length of her before using her free hand to tuck her blood red hair on the other side of her neck.

  “Seraphina! Seraphina it’s important,” Izazal’s voice broke through the heavy moans of pleasure, just as her lips were about to slide around Neal’s member.

  She turned, her eyes practically burning with rage, and a small knife from the vanity launched at Izazal, who barely stepped to the side in time.

  “This had better be good, Izazal. I do not care how much I like you, interrupting me before I’m sated is not smart.” Her hand continued to lazily stroke up and down Neal’s prick.

  His growl indicated he was no more amused by the Fallen’s appearance than she was.

  “We have word from the Illusion Demon who lives on the streets near the clockwork guild.”

  Her hand stopped stroking, and Neal’s erect shaft bobbed as she stood up from the bed. “Word of what, Izazal? And make this quick.”

  “The Alliance is coming for Kellan.”

  “Bloody hell!” The knife that she’d telepathically thrown at Izazal tore from where it was embedded in the wall and flew, slamming into the wall just over his head. “I knew they would try something. I had merely hoped, after almost a year, they had given up. When I released Kellan, they would have been so happy to see him, it would have been child’s play to get inside the doors,” she growled and turned to face her lover. “Get out. I have a hunter to finally thoroughly compel. We can continue this later if the human hasn’t worn me out.”

  A look of hatred passed over the typically level-headed Ice Demon’s face, and Neal snarled, stood up and walked past her and Izazal, still very naked.

  She whirled and walked to the armoire, pulling out an ivory silk robe and sliding it over her shoulders. With quick fingers, she tied the small silk bow and stepped into a pair of actual glass heels. They cut into her as she walked, but she liked the way the image of blood seeping over her feet inspired fear and lust in Kellan’s case.

  “Do you know what entrance they will use? London is secure, but if they try the waterway, I have a group of demons to see about an interference.” She shoved Izazal out of the way and started walking down the hall to the prison.

  Screams of agony and curses of anger filtered around her as she grew closer. There were only four cells, all in a circular pattern, but three of the cells held nine or so Pure Angels having their fall forced upon them. It was music to her ears as she shoved the key into the lock to Kellan’s cell.

  “He is uncertain but has seen a group of hunters coming and going from the docks. Water is my guess, and they are preparing to leave soon. My Queen, if you are going to force a bond with this human, I recommend doing so before they take him.”

  She backhanded her lieutenant and felt the warmth of his blood as it trickled over her fingers from her nails slicing into him. “Do not think to tell me what to do again. Leave me with the hunter, and check on the Pure Angels. If they come for him, there cannot be a mishap like with Rafe. They must all be so badly broken, they either become Fallen or have their cells guarded. If it fails, I will personally hold you responsible.”

  Izazal nodded, and she pushed open the cell door. Kellan sat, hunched over and grabbing his knees in the far corner. Thanks to her blood, a little more than two days were plenty to heal his broken body. He was chained to the wall, though, a precaution, should he find a way through his haze.

  “What do you want, bitch? You’ve already dripped your toxic blood down my throat recently,” Kellan’s words were laced with venom, even as his eyes tracked her every movement.

  “I would like to point out how greedily you drank down my blood, hunter.” She walked over to him and ran a hand delicately over his face before slashing her nail across his throat. “Your friends are coming for you, so it would seem. It’s time to talk. How many sects of the Alliance are there?”

  He spit at her, and she slapped him so hard, his head reeled backward.

  “Do not liken yourself t
o have a row with me, Kellan. You might not be fully under the haze of a blood craze, but you are addicted all the same.” Using her nail, she slit a small slice on her wrist, and the dangerous blood beaded there quickly. “A trade. A little blood for a little information.”

  She stepped closer and bent down, offering her wrist to him. At first, he pulled back, but as she leaned forward once more, his tongue slipped over the thin line of blood without hesitation. She moaned softly in pleasure and bit her inner cheek to stop the reaction.

  When she felt his teeth sink into her arm to get more blood, she jerked away. “That is enough. How many?” His eyes shifted to a darker shade of green, and she saw the hunger in the depths of them. He was close, so very close to stepping over an edge there would be no saving him from.

  “I don’t know,” the words tore from his mouth, and his eyes widened at his own betrayal. “Nae, that couldnea happened.”

  He might not have been helpful, but the slow smile spread over her lips just the same. “I told you, I know you’re heritage, and you’re falling prey to my control, little hunter.” Her eyes roamed over him, and a little voice pointed out that Kellan was impressive, and certainly not little anywhere.

  “It willnea happen again. I can promise ye that.” He looked as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head when he heard his accent as strong as ever.

  Seraphina knew how crucial getting him to fully submit was, and she knew how she’d broken one of the bravest Pure Angels. A little bit of seduction. She sauntered over to the table across the cell and picked up a knife. She twirled the blood-covered tool in her hands and seductively stepped back over to Kellan.

  “Have you ever wondered what it would really taste like to drink a Fallen’s blood? To have it coursing into your mouth as your tongue played inside the mouth of one of the most compelling creatures to ever live.”

  “Not a fecking chance, bitch. I want yer blood. I ken yer ken that. But I willnea ever wish yer lips on mine.”