Bulletproof, he’d always seemed so. But he wasn’t. Fear gripped her heart, glided like ice water through her veins. Do something! She’d found him, and this time she wasn’t giving him up.
If there was clockwork, she could aid him, but even this close, four yards back, she still sensed nothing on Xiang of use. Nothing clockwork at all. Then, fast and fluid, as if she performed magic, Xiang flew back three steps and lunged, the point of her blade reaching for Sofia’s neck.
Her hand out instinctively as if to halt the steel, Sofia watched death spear in—so sure was the aim she imagined the fine steel sliding in through her throat. Inevitable. She would die.
Tansu dived between, and the blade carved her arm. Blood spurted. Sliding, knees collapsing, Sofia hit the ground. With her blade turned, Xiang’s face twisted in fury. She whirled and parried Dankyo’s strike, then lashed out and slid the tip down his thigh. He recovered and moved back. The fluid shift of his muscles was no longer perfect, and blood showed where the cloth of his pants had been slit.
Bent backward over her folded legs, Sofia panted. Oh God. I did that. I almost ruined it. I almost got him killed. Get up! Could she find an undamaged rifle?
Tansu keened, clutching her bloody wrist, rocking on her knees as if to lessen the pain.
Scrambling to get clear, desperate, Sofia’s knee hit the underside of her other knee, and she fell in a tangle of limbs.
The look in Dankyo’s eyes and his rapid advance said he knew he had to take Xiang down fast. Their swords clashed, light flicking off the blades. Maybe, maybe, he could do this? His fierce determination said yes, the leak of blood on chest and leg said no. She was wearing him down.
Sofia clawed her fingers into the ground, wincing as the steel flashed past his face. Another dance move, another flirt with death.
What could she do?
The mysterious clockwork thing barreled in—it was Zigzag. He’d lost control, and he skidded past on his back.
What in hell…
Her mind latched on to possibilities.
Zigzag was clockwork. She could transform him, wrench him into a ravenous beast with sharp inescapable teeth, let him tear her throat out. Yet…Zigzag? Nausea swamped her. She chose, began the transformation. Golden spines went snick snack into place, rearranging millisecond by millisecond.
Liquid as a snake, Xiang twisted and struck, and flicked Dankyo’s blade airward. The deflection left him wide open for a thrust to his chest.
As he skidded, Zigzag changed, his limbs lengthened, and the clockie spines slid and flipped.
For Sofia, breathing became optional. No! You bitch, no!
With a push and shove from Sofia’s mind, Zigzag tumbled through the air and smacked into Xiang’s legs, whipping tight about her knees. Thrust off-balance, she crashed to the stone; her shoulder and the side of her body bounced, and her sword spun from her hand and skittered away.
Got her!
The world slowed. Frenetic zoomed down to normal. Panting, chest heaving, feeling like she’d run a race up a mountain, then been thrown from the top, Sofia propped herself up on her elbow. Fear and a strange weakness made her tremble and want to curl up and sleep for a thousand years.
Red clogged her eyes. Her heart did a weak skippitty-skip. Slowly she slumped back to the ground.
DANKYO SHIFTED HIS grip on the sword’s hilt. Instincts took over. In a movement born of a thousand duels, his fingers assumed the best position on the leather. He limped in closer to Xiang, sword poised, like she was some sort of crazed beast that might still bite.
Which she was, she was.
At the periphery of his vision he saw Sofia, knew from the blood that she was badly injured, yet he could do nothing. It hurt so much. The need to go to her hung there, like a gathering storm.
But Xiang was dangerous.
And he was right. Despite Zigzag binding her knees together, Xiang brought up a knife and whipped it back.
Kill her. Lunge forward, kill.
Regret paralyzed him. He never hesitated. Death was his instrument. But long ago, she’d been his friend, almost lover.
Xiang grinned at him and went to throw. Zigzag bit her on the ass, and with a loud zimm, a gauss round blasted into her back.
The blow tossed Xiang forward onto her face. Electric blue spit and sizzled on the wound. The knife slipped from her fingers to the ground. The black shirt grew darker around the hole below her neck. She took two ragged breaths, sighed, then slumped into the stillness of death.
Thank God, it’s done.
A strange sort of grief trickled in.
A glance to the right showed the janissary still sprawled on the ground but slowly lowering a gauss rifle. He smiled wryly and waved, before letting his head drop back.
Look to Sofia. No. Check the field. As he strode to her, he scanned the battlefield. Nothing moved that shouldn’t. Nothing moved full stop, except him and the two women and his one ally.
Sofia had her hand raised. The click clack of metal near Xiang made him whip his head about. Only Zigzag. The creature unwrapped himself from her body, shook himself, and bounded over to Sofia.
“I’m sorry,” Sofia whispered as he knelt beside her.
God damn. Blood ran down her face from her eyes…flooded down her face. Her upper body seemed drenched. The stones beneath her were stained with a sticky pool, and the blood dampened the knee of his trousers.
What the fuck could he do?
Military first-aid lessons lined up and told him nothing. Bandage her eyes? He turned, reached, grabbed the neck of a shirt on a guard’s body, ripped it loose.
The bleeding had slowed.
“Sofia?” His voice sounded rough. His hand shook. Fuck. Hold it down. He clamped his feelings in place. Later, later, he’d scream. “Sofia, are you with me? Stay with me, darling.”
“I’m here.” Her words were so quiet he strained to hear them.
At hearing her voice, he almost broke. “Good.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t kill her for you.”
“Shh. What do you mean?” He wiped her face, trying to see why she bled. No wounds. How? His hand shook. “You couldn’t have. Sofia, why are you bleeding? I need to know.”
“Oh.” She blinked, staring at the cloth he held. It was more red than white. “Is that me?”
Tansu knelt at Sofia’s other side and croaked out. “It might be to do with who she is. She’s done…things.” Her wrist had a gore-soaked rag knotted over it. “I think she’s the Clockwork Warrior.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Frowning, he shook his head. He needed sense not stupidity. Hysterical, obviously. Except…Tansu was the Heraklos implant. She wouldn’t be the hysterical type.
“It’s true. I am. Zigzag?” Sofia called. Her words came out slurred as if she were drunk. Zigzag bumped his way under Dankyo’s arm and nudged her. His long silver tongue licked her, then him, then both of them together.
“Look, Sir.” She touched Zigzag’s nose and some of the gold spindles wriggled. “That was me.”
Fresh blood leaked from her eyes. “Shit.” Already what skin he could see seemed dead white. If she bled more…
As if he’d done something startling, Sofia looked at him. “You swore?”
“Don’t do that! It makes you bleed more.” He had zero idea as to what was happening. And that terrified him. Was she dying? No. No. She wasn’t allowed to. But why the hell was she bleeding? The crazy scramble of his thoughts made his heart take a few big thuds. Hold it in. I’ve seen a million people wounded.
He pressed the shirt to her eyes, wiped away more blood, then shakily raised the rag. That lazy open and close of her eyelids, the unfocused stare…her pale lips…
But never her. Never Sofia, the woman I love. He wrenched his thoughts back into practical logical mode. Prioritize. Fucking prioritize.
“Tansu, she needs a doctor. Where can I find one?”
“There’s a Heraklos flag nearby. Head for that. The battle code—”
The numbers flashed into his head. “I have it. You stay with her. Both of you keep still and cuddle up. I’ll get you that working rifle; then I’m going for medical help.” He stood, paused to double-check for live enemies, then sprinted away.
“SOFIA, MY DARLING,” Tansu said softly to her. “You’ll be okay. We’ll wait here. I pray you forgive me. I lied so much.”
“You too?” Her eyelids kept shutting of their own accord, but she forced them open. “S’okay. We all lied a lot. I forgive you.”
“Now shush. I’m supposed to keep you warm and quiet. Dankyo will have my head if I don’t.”
“Mmm.” The stone was hard on the back of her head.
“You’ll be better soon.” Lips pressed lightly on her cheek. “You’ll see.”
When did I lie down? God. Cold, so cold. She shivered. The sky was red. Someone had wrapped their arms about her. She shut her eyes. Her heartbeat followed her down into the dusk with little faltering beats…
When she awoke, the sway and distant purr told her she was in an airship.
“Where am I?” Her voice was miles away.
“In the Princess Kay, Sten’s ship.”
She recognized the voice. Dankyo.
Oh. Her thoughts drifted. “How?”
“Don’t worry yourself. Tansu arranged it. Now sleep. No one knows who…what, you are. You’re just Sofia, and I’m just Dankyo. We’re going home.”
“Mmm.” She smiled. Just me. Just him. Going home. I like that.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The wind coming down off the mountains chilled Sofia, and she clutched her heavy coat to her, turned up the lapels, and tucked her hands up the sleeves. So appropriate. She was up here on the roof of House Kevonis because things were wrong between her and Dankyo. He left her alone so much. Work as Head of Security seemed to fill his day.
Two weeks stuck in bed now, and whenever she tried to convince anyone she was better, the doctor would come and check and say, you’re still anemic, not yet.
The three guards who’d followed her stayed back, but she couldn’t forget they were there. They hadn’t wanted her to come, but as long as she stayed here, in one spot, they’d said they were happy.
She sighed and shivered at the same time. “Brr.”
The roof was kind of nice in a way—with its topiary trees in tubs and alcoves in unexpected places so people could sit on one of the white-painted garden seats and look out over the landscape. Some dots a mile or two away might be a herd of sheep or goats. The sky was a blue bright enough to sink teeth into. The land beyond the house grounds looked like a green paradise with zillions of puffy gray-green trees.
If it wasn’t for the manned gun platforms at the roof’s corners, she’d have appreciated the view more. And if Dankyo had bothered to visit her the last week. Busy, or otherwise engaged, all the messages said.
He’d changed. When she first arrived, sick and weak, he’d been like some nurse come down from heaven, forever checking on her. Then for some reason, he’d turned cold. Like this stupid wind.
Face it. This whole place is making me feel unwelcome, and Dankyo wants me to leave. He’s just not going to say it out loud. Tears crept down her cheek.
“Damn it, girl. You trying to get in trouble?” It was Claire, Theo’s consort and indomitable assassin extraordinaire. She sauntered over and slid her neat ass onto the bench.
As always when she was working, the woman had on leather bootleg pants and jacket, in fawn brown this time, with her hair swept up in a bun. Beneath the jacket, glimpses of a black bustier showed. The sword and large pistol, slung at back and waist respectively, and some knives on her heavy belt, sent Sofia a dark reminder of Xiang. Assassins both of them, and both with a habit of toting enough weaponry to scare away the devil, or at least give him a bad fright.
Sofia shrugged morosely. “How’d you find me?”
“Kirsten blabbed, and the guards too. You’re barely out of your sick bed, and you’re up here, freezing your ass off? Dankyo will be livid.”
“Doubt it.” Go away and let me be miserable in peace.
“Okay.” Claire stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankle. “I catch your meaning. And I agree. I’ll go nudge Theo. This has gone on long enough. But first, you’re going back to bed. We have a deal?”
She was going to do something? “I guess so. Deal.”
“Great.” Claire smiled. “One of the things I loved about this place when I first came here was how much they welcomed me. Think it’s my turn to return the favor. You look like you need a hug. Come here.”
She enfolded Sofia in her arms. The leather jacket creaked. But it was warm and snug, and having Claire do this made her feel like choking.
So nice. To have someone care, even if it wasn’t the someone she most wanted to have hug her. Damn him.
But she hugged Claire back, sniffed to clear away the tears, and whispered, “Thank you.”
The crunch of boots and crisp cries of Sir had her peeking around Claire’s shoulder. Dankyo. He strode over like an ironclad parting the waves—as if nothing would stop him. His fierce glare made her flinch.
She shook Claire. “Psst, I think one of us is in trouble.”
Without looking, Claire replied. “From Dankyo? Pfft. I have his measure. He won’t hurt a fly unless it bites him on the ass or hurts those he holds dear. I’ll leave you, though, to talk. Take care.”
“Mmm.”
For all Claire’s brave talk, she ducked away on a path that detoured around Dankyo. The assassin was as daunted as she was. Amusing in a way. Sofia switched her focus back to Dankyo.
Though frowning back at him seemed appropriate, the idea trailed away to nothing. His black coat flared and revealed a waistcoat and a dark gray shirt with a rumpled begrimed collar. His shoes, normally gleaming, were splashed with mud. Dankyo never wore dirty clothes unless the situation was desperate. It hadn’t rained here. What had happened?
“What—”
“You should not be up here.” Then he swept her off the bench and into his arms, juggled her a minute, and turned back toward the stairway. Every inch of his face looked rigid with anger. Even his eyes looked like stone.
She shrank and didn’t dare to speak. As they descended the winding staircase, his expression softened. “It’s not you, my lady. It’s not you I’m angry at, or not wholly.”
Not…wholly. Thank God for that. Some of the tension ebbed from her. For a moment execution by glaring had seemed a possibility. “Oh? Who, then?”
He shook his head. “Later. You should not have been up there. Sick. Half-dead not long ago, and you’re out getting blown away? I’d not thought you so stupid.”
Stupid? The insult had never ridden well with her. She scowled at him. “I am not stupid!”
“Good. Then behave.”
“Oh!” The pure gall of him. “I haven’t seen you for a week and you waltz in and–”
He’d reached her bedroom and wiggled the knob, then kicked the door open. “I’ve been away.”
Away. The reasoning behind that deflated her. He’d deserted her without saying? Loneliness crept back in. For all his fancy rescuing of her from the wind and cold, he hadn’t cared enough to—
He placed her on the bed, yanked the cover up to her shoulders, then stepped back, stiffly. Only his fists at his sides clenched and relaxed repeatedly. Clearly, he was wrestling with telling her something.
“Dankyo?” Did she want to find out? Dread warred with her need to know.
“I’ll be back.”
Her exhale was long and hard, and frustration seeped out of her every pore. Where was he going? When the door closed, she turned and punched her pillow until she was coughing and dizzy. Damn him.
An hour passed, then another. Nothing happened; no one came.
The winds grew even wilder. The sky had dulled. Now and then the French doors that led out onto the inner grounds of House Kevonis rattled as if someone wanted in. She’d grown used to it an
d rarely jumped anymore. Being on the third story meant the only scenery easily seen from her bed was the occasional bird or the tufts of gray clouds scudding across the pale steel sky. Even those few birds looked in a hurry to get somewhere warmer. Sofia nudged aside the textbooks on her bed and snuggled farther under the rose-bedecked quilt.
Someone knocked at the white bedroom door.
“Come in!”
The door opened. June poked her nose in, checked the pocket watch pinned to her dress, then peered over her silver-rimmed glasses. Her frown almost disappeared into all the hummocks and wrinkles. “Time for the meeting. I’ll leave you all be, dear, and come back after I’ve had some tea—just in case you want something.” She shuffled about and pulled the door shut as she went.
Sofia rolled her eyes and sang out. “I’m perfectly recovered now. I could be doing sprints up and down that hallway even! What meeting?” Had Dankyo organized something?
For a week after she’d arrived here, June had been like her shadow. Then she’d graduated to the three guards. They seemed worried she’d turn into something weird or dangerous. Perhaps a clockwork thing that would run on a rampage and murder everyone?
“If only,” she muttered, flopping her head back onto her pillow. “Least that would be more interesting.”
She might like puzzles, but reading about them only went so far. She needed him back again—the way he had been. He’d gone from being so attentive he was annoying, bringing her flowers, feeding her soup, and so on, to what he was now, distant, angry. Was it that other problem? Could he not see her living here as his lover and partner?
Please, not that.
At least Claire had been up here in the last week. And she’d brought Zigzag too. Even if he’d been taken away again, she’d gotten to play with him.
Maybe she should throw something like a shoe at Dankyo next time he came in? Or a book. She eyed the smaller textbook. Sadness welled up. She didn’t want to hit him. She wanted to know, why.
Dankyo, what are you up to?
Or was it that they didn’t trust her? Well, she’d lived by herself before. At least now she knew what sort of man she liked. That had to be a good start, hadn’t it?
Steel Dominance Page 28