Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles)

by Silverwood, Cari

  When she tore her gaze away from how he casually held that deadly pole, and looked at where he pointed, she saw a raised man below, surrounded by other kneeling men. He went from one to the other, touching their heads like a priest granting a blessing. They fell, writhing. Some rose. Even at the great distance, she could see the flare in their sockets.

  “Shotgun won’t reach,” she murmured.

  He drew back his arm, flung the pole. “Haaa!”

  The shout seemed to stir the hairs on her arm. The pole sped down the side of the building, whistling, spinning, heading earthward with a vengeance…and speared into the raised man’s head—knocking him over, fastening him to the earth like a wriggling worm pinned in a collection.

  Sten peered over, grunted. “Scratch one.”

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time Emily had toppled the aerial onto the adjacent building, Sten was low on ammunition and Kaysana was low on antiseptic. The bitter stench of it under her nose made her want to throw up.

  Worth it, though—if I can keep this wanting under control.

  “There’s a gap in their attack. No more raised men.” Using finger and thumb to guide them, Sten slid the last five cartridges into the shotgun’s chambers.

  “Let’s go, then!” She indicated the makeshift bridge. Emily had already traversed it.

  The crisscross frame of the aerial looked strong but there was nowhere real wide. And I’m not a trapeze artist. Cadrach should be okay. Which is good. The wolf had grown on her, and leaving him behind for the zombies…the idea made her feel ill.

  She’d have to crawl as Emily had. Kaysana gave it a kick with her boot and nothing shifted. Solid. At a whistle and gesture, the wolf crawled across the antenna to Emily, leaping and bounding about in joy once he reached her.

  “Down, boy,” Emily squeaked, then giggled at the slurp of his tongue. “Come on, you two!”

  “You’re next. Ladies first.” Sten inclined his head. Then, hand propped on knee, he leaned out to check the street. “Fuck. They’re following us.”

  The sight of the heavy cord of muscle at the side of his neck fed into her like an electric zap. She ran her tongue along her parted lips. No. Hell no. Control yourself. She tore her eyes away.

  The subdued roar forewarned her. The crowd flowed into the side street. Some already poured into the door of the opposite building. This would be suicide. And Emily was over there. Her thoughts raced through the possibilities. The only solution she could think of made her heart stutter a few lonely beats. Could Emily do what she needed to? She tried to remember the woman’s personnel file and couldn’t. What were the chances there’d be a vehicle with the keys inside? Emily’s so young. How it is so many people have to die? God, I’m getting maudlin, weak.

  She straightened.

  “Sten. We need to distract them.”

  “Oh?” He scowled, watched the milling zombies for a few seconds. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Ideas?”

  “I have one.” Then she raised her voice and yelled across the gap. “Emily, go get a vehicle. We’ll draw the zombies away first, so wait a while in the stairwell. We’ll meet you down there, at the back street! Take care! And get some clothes!”

  “Guard her, Cadrach!” Sten added. “Good boy!”

  “Sure. Okay!” Emily cried. She and Cadrach headed for the opposite door leading down off the roof.

  Brave girl. Kaysana heard Sten approach.

  “What’s your idea?”

  She didn’t turn. Saying this was easier when not seeing his eyes. She licked her lips, composed herself. “Passion attracts them. When we touched earlier…and after we made love at the shop, they headed for us.” Saying this is so hard to do. “Seduce me.”

  She listened. His boots crunched closer. Her breathing stopped.

  “You sure?”

  The wind gusted, shoving at her a moment as she stood there at the edge, flicking strands of hair across her face. Did he mean the zombie part? Or that she wanted him to seduce her?

  “Yes, as sure as I can be. This is just…necessary, though, so don’t get—”

  At her ear, something snapped, tinkled, moved her collar. Her stomach sinking, she turned. The long line of a leash swayed from her collar to Sten’s hand. Instinct made her resist. He wound it in fast, pulled her to him. Though she whipped her hand up to grab the leash, it was too late.

  His face was inches from hers, his sea blue eyes pinning her in place as much as the leash in his hand.

  “STAY STILL,” STEN said quietly, firmly, then put his hand to her bare back and felt her jerk at the press of skin to skin. The transformation made his dick quiver as always, and damn, he was already hard. The way Kaysana’s face changed fascinated him. It was like watching a flower unfurl. The hardness, the wariness, drained away. Instead she looked at him with adoration and acceptance in those toffee brown eyes.

  Yet after a few seconds, he saw awareness return. This is new. She’s resisting this thing that affects us. He didn’t bother trying to resist anymore. He wanted her, knew he would’ve anyway. This just made it easier. The Zen let him see the truth. Having Kaysana kneel at his feet—this was his fantasy, want, need…whatever. Having her want him back sent his libido soaring into the stratosphere. Done deal.

  The intriguing thing was watching her wriggle to get out of it. To deny her needs.

  “Come.” He tugged, then towed her to the front of the rooftop by the leash wrapped in his hand.

  “Sit here. Stop trying to push me away. You’re right. Last time I touched you, those zombies zeroed in on us like flies to…” Blood.

  Keep your shit focused. Zone them out. Zen, man, Zen. Took him a few hard seconds, but he managed. He had to. Their lives depended on this working. The difficult bit was keeping her in a mental space where she forgot.

  At the touch of his hand on her shoulder, she sighed. Quivering with need already? Her smart, thinking side was clearly miles away. He spread his fingers on her warm skin and smiled.

  If not for the effects of the plague, this would never have worked. The zombies waiting below to rip them apart weren’t exactly love potion ingredients.

  Sten pressed his palm on her nape, made her kneel, turned the leash around his fist until his knuckles brushed the angle of her throat and jaw. He bent down, staring at her. Her gaze went all gooey, her pupils dilating, gorgeous—if he could’ve bottled that, he would’ve.

  “Let’s kiss,” he murmured.

  The feel of her soft lips under his near unhinged him. Their hot breaths mingled as he explored her mouth. At first passive, then she struggled a little and tried to pull away. With his hands at her neck and throat, he held her to him. “No,” he whispered, licking the corner of her mouth. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

  Then he crushed her resistance, shoving his tongue between her lips, taking over her mouth with his while he slid his fingers into her hair. He turned his hand to screw those fingers into the roots, wrapping hair about each finger—harder, tighter. When she gasped and her mouth fell open, he knew he had her. He kept at her. Not until she moaned uncontrollably into his mouth did he let up and slowly lift away.

  Her eyes were shut. Her mouth was open still, air sucking in and out with little wanting gasps.

  “Beautiful.” Still holding her head, he glanced over the side. Six or ten of the crowd were down there, walking about, staring up, some of them backing up to see him and Kaysana better. Not enough. Clearly it was doing something to them, but he needed to crank up the effect to attract the rest.

  Fuck. Fuckitty fuck. We can’t afford to get this wrong. Anger stirred, the familiar red mess bubbling up, calling to him. A faint crackling sizzled inside his head.

  No! Gritting his teeth, he forced it back. The tension in his muscles ebbed. He studied Kaysana. “What are we lacking?” Her eyelids fluttered open. Such promise in those eyes. As if she expected and needed more.

  Ah. Course.

  “The passion needs to be stronger. Ye
s?” But she didn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d left her lost inside her thoughts. “Let’s try something better, hotter. Trial and error.”

  Instead of flaring into rage, the crackling tension inside gave him focus.

  Find peace in the simplicity of life. Ignore what isn’t now. Be. Exist. See the beauty in the moment. The tightness washed away. He smiled down at her, then let go of the leash and traced her lower lip with his fingers.

  Gravity and the curves of her body showed his hand the way to the silky skin of her neck. He hooked his fingers under the neckline of the top and pulled it down one shoulder, then the other, making the top slide. He scooped each breast free, then went down on one knee and paid homage to each nipple—licking and sucking them until the tips hardened.

  By then she had a hand wrapped around his wrist.

  “No.” Yet she shivered. Her chest heaved enough that her nipple pushed in and out of his mouth. One last bite at her nipple and he straightened, grinning at the squeak he’d elicited.

  “No?” He pried her hand loose, took both her wrists to her back. That alone made Kaysana arch toward him. “That’s my girl. Your mouth says no, but your body says yes.”

  From the sounds below, the crowd grew. He narrowed his eyes. It was working. With one hand clamping her wrists at the small of her back, he let the leash dangle down her front so it tapped against her mound, then reached around her buttocks and between her legs to pull the leash through. A few loops about her wrists and a quick knot. There. Bound nice and firm.

  The way she sank her teeth into her lip and swayed told him she liked this. He let his hand follow the leather of the leash, across belly and all the way down to where it split her labia and sank up into her. Moisture leaked around the leather onto his fingers. As if he had forever to do this, he traveled his fingers up and over her little engorged clit, then back along her cleft, watching her reaction—every whimper and moan and quiver.

  “You’re so fucking wet already. I’d like to sit here all day teasing this clit.” He gave it a few taps and trapped it between his fingers, watched her eyelids drift half-shut and her tongue emerge between those plump lips. Kaysana made a small sound halfway between a whimper and a moan.

  The noise below was louder than before. Five cartridges left in the shotgun at his feet. He prayed that’d be enough. With the raised men gone, those below didn’t seem clever enough to climb well. Lucky, damn lucky their brains were in short supply.

  She so tempted him. He moved in, let his tongue find the way around the whorl of her ear, and whispered, “If I finger fuck you, do you think half the city’ll arrive?”

  She blinked, swallowed, shut her eyes entirely. Her breathing sped up, sounding like a little steam engine gone haywire.

  “Nice.” He brought up his wet hand to draw damp circles around one areola, his fingertip glancing off the protruding nipple here and there. Then he did the same to the other. “Suck these clean.” With her eyes still closed, she opened her mouth, took the three fingers he inserted, and licked him obediently.

  The tickling and the warm, wet sensation as she slurped at him and slid her tongue over and in between his fingers hardened his cock even more, until it tented his pants. He drifted his gaze over her body. How he’d bound her at the wrists, with the leash running from the collar and through her legs, made her breasts thrust out and up. Beautiful.

  He cupped her chin. “I’d like to take you here, fuck you on the roof, in front of the world, but I don’t think we’ve time.”

  The whole-body shudder that ran through her, rocking her chin in his hand, sent crazy signals to his groin. His balls tightened.

  One or two men, from the sounds, were scrambling up the building. He let one hand settle over the shotgun, turned it so the trigger was situated right, and resumed the kiss. He put his fingers back on her clit and started the rhythmic rocking and squeezing that would bring her off. The suck and pull of his lips on hers echoed what he did below. She stiffened, moaned; then her body tensed again as she climaxed. He moved her so her mouth rested on his shoulder.

  Damn. Fascinated, he watched her every reaction as her torso undulated in waves. She’s still coming? Precum leaked onto his pants, and his dick twitched. As the orgasm kept on, he thrust a finger in deep while his thumb stayed on her clit. She bit him, screaming quietly at the back of her throat. Her groin pumped onto his hand. At last she stopped biting and crumpled, her forehead slipping down the front of his chest.

  “Shhh. It’s okay.” He patted her.

  The first man rose above the edge, his rot-blackened hands reaching. Sten lifted the shotgun one-handed, aimed. An engine growled into the street and screeched around to the rear of this one. Emily? Must be. Had better be.

  Milliseconds later, at the arrival of the second and third men, he rose, stepped away from Kaysana. He went to that fucked-up place in his head that let him kill, shot the men down, undid her wrists and the leash, kissed her palm. Intelligence shone from her eyes.

  “Trust me, darlin’?” He gave her a thin smile as he quickly rearranged her top. Two shots left…and the sword. Not enough, not when he’d suddenly figured out how much this woman meant to him.

  “For now,” she answered shakily.

  “Then let’s run!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Their flight across the roof, then down the back of the building seemed to blur together—the kiss, the thump of the shotgun, their crazy sprint across the roof, then the half climb, half fall from one story to the next. If the slant of the building made it easy to climb up, it was just as much a help when climbing down. And all the way, the dull roar of the crowd swelled as the zombies came after them.

  Her feet hit the packed-earth street. Zombies staggered around the far corner of the building. With Sten beside her, she hightailed it for the vehicle.

  Sitting at the wheel of a three-yard-high, segmented half-track was Emily. The engine churned over and smoke coughed from a double side funnel. The four front wheels spun. Through the dust-smeared windshield, Emily waved her hands madly, jumping a little in the seat. Something small swayed before her face inside the cabin. Her canary sat on the dashboard.

  Kaysana hurled herself through the door, sliding across the floor on her breasts and tummy, with Sten tumbling in straight after. By bunching his hand in her skirt, he hoisted her up and dragged her farther in. The engine coughed. The car jerked as if overeager to leave, and they sped off. Wind ruffled in through the gaping door.

  Framed by the door, a scabrous, flesh-stripped man’s arm appeared and reached in. Scuffled footsteps. Chaotic breathing. He tried to grab hold of the frame, then fell away as the truck accelerated.

  “You all good?” Emily yelled back, and Sten gave her a thumbs-up. The thing jiggling from a string attached above the windshield was a rainbow-painted, multiarmed effigy. This wasn’t a police vehicle.

  She sat with elbows on knees while she caught her breath.

  I have no idea what is right anymore. I just had an orgasm on a rooftop in full view of a city with two women lying dead behind me. Nothing is right.

  She shook her head, then pressed her hands to her temples. Sten heaved the wing door down and clicked it shut. The gusts of dust and smoke lessened, as did the engine noise.

  “You okay?” Sten subsided onto the floor next to her, legs outstretched, hip bumping her hip.

  “Sure I am.” Disgusted, she scrubbed at her hair. Things needed sorting out, though, before she wallowed in misery. “Emily, what is this vehicle?”

  “Don’ know, rightly.” Leaning back while still steering, she yelled, “Could be a mail truck. There’s all those parcels back there behind the netting. It’s got track and wheels like it’s meant to traverse them mountains. Narrow cross-section too for the skinny roads up there. Say, where’re we headed?”

  “Keep south. This main road goes that way. We have to get to a PME base.”

  “Right you are, Captain!”

  Captain? It stung her, reminded her
of who she was.

  “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m not being all that your captain should be.”

  “What?” Emily’s voice dropped into a respectful tone. “Ma’am, I do not know what you are sayin’. A blind person could see nothing is normal right now. You all just saved me from some horrible fate worse than death. I won’t tell nobody about nothing you want kept quiet. Hell, I’m sitting here driving around in the nude, and my father would have an absolute fit if he found out!”

  Emily wrenched the wheel over and changed gears. Steam hooted and gurgled along piping. Kaysana grabbed for support and found herself clutching Sten’s biceps. As if he were poisonous, she jerked her hand away. He grinned. The whole vehicle screamed in protest and undulated, sections of it contorting like a strangled accordion, until it straightened and surged onward.

  “And, Captain, I figure if the world’s going ass over turkey, we may as well enjoy it.”

  All Emily’s gabbling and rambling left Kaysana lost. What had happened to the awestruck woman in the corridor of the Art of War? Was this the real Emily?

  Her mouth stuck together so much her tongue might’ve been made from glue. Her head throbbed. Sten put a cup of water into her hand, shaped her fingers around the cup. “What?”

  “Drink. You’ve had nothing since we woke up this morning.” His clear blue eyes regarded her calmly, as if this was an average day and he always treated her…like this. “It’s from a container I found back there.” He shoved his thumb toward the back of the compartment. “Enough to keep us going until we can stop somewhere. And I’ve more beef sticks in my pack.”

  Her gaze slid over to where he’d tossed the pack. In all the confusion, he’d still retrieved it from the roof. Put her to shame. She drank down the cupful, handed it back. Already she could feel the liquid reviving her. “Thank you.”

  While everyone had a share of the water, she tapped her fingers on her knee and stared at the dirty metal floor. The world was disintegrating. Focus.

  “Emily?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” The woman’s concentration on the road didn’t break. She stared straight ahead into the glare of the day.