A Clockwork Christmas

by Nina S. Gooden

  He laughed a slight cruel sound that filled the entire room. “Fight all you’d like. I’m still going to get what I want in the end.”

  His mouth came crashing down on hers and she almost forgot to struggle against him. Unlike her most recent kiss, this one was fierce and good. He pressed his mouth against hers over and over, rubbing the tip of his tongue over her lightly to soothe away any sting left behind. He cradled her face in big palms, a true sense of urgency emitting from him as he moved against her.

  Olyve jerked back and away from him. For several seconds they simply panted, staring at one another in disbelief. The rooting of their slimy audience did not lessen the intensity in the contact. No matter how scared she was, there was no denying that she responded to his touch.

  “Oh-hoh! Maybe the little bitch likes it more than we’d hoped.”

  A deep flush spread across Olyve’s face. She scrubbed the back of her hand against her mouth and shot James the most contemptuous look she could muster with her heart pounding as hard as it was. This wasn’t the time to lose herself in whatever passion lay between them. She hauled herself back, mustered up her courage, and spit in his face.

  James smiled at her, a genuinely pleased expression. He applauded her bravery silently, even as he leaned up and grasped the remainder of the vest she wore in disguise. With a powerful tug, the material came apart, baring her breasts under the remains of the bindings she had used to flatten her bosom.

  The animals behind him went wild with lust, shouting for a peek, as he was blocking their view. He hesitated for only a moment while Olyve stared at him with eyes he hadn’t thought could get any wider. She snarled in fury, moving to cover herself but he easily caught her hands in one of his.

  “So beautiful. Your skin is like fresh cream.” He cast his voice loud enough for everyone to hear but there was a breathless wonder that Olyve didn’t miss. She continued to struggle, her lips pressed firmly together, but she watched him lower his head.

  Under the façade of trying to push him off, Olyve’s stomach coiled with anticipation. She shook her head in a deliberate show of refusal, but on the inside, she was burning with want. Cruel eyes watched her from afar but all she focused on were the desperate, hungry eyes of the person pinning her down.

  James trailed his tongue over one heavy breast, leaving a trail of heat and goosebumps in his wake. Olyve bit back a moan, trying to force herself to remember the situation. He carefully avoided her nipple, sucking in mouthfuls of white flesh and biting down.

  An involuntary movement brought her hips up to the air. She rolled with the action, pretending to buck again, trying to dislodge him, but mostly she bit back her own sighs of pleasure. The motion brought her hips up to his and she brushed his groin with each thump of her body.

  When his hands came up to roughly palm her skin, she struggled to turn her moan into a groan of furious outrage. She felt his hard length pressing against her figure. Each time he dragged a whiskered cheek across her skin, she felt him tremble and knew he was just as confusingly aroused as she was.

  “Hey now, don’t hog the goods for yourself! If we can’t get a taste, at least let us get a peek.”

  The crowd grumbled with discontent and apprehension rolled through James’s expression. Olyve understood immediately. If he didn’t keep them happy as spectators, they would eventually demand to participate. She pressed her fingertips against the palms that kept her arms up, letting him know it was all right.

  “Forgive me,” he murmured against the flesh of her breast.

  She barely had time to suck in a fortifying breath before he released her arms. Almost immediately, his hands found their way into her hair and were jerking her upward. He pulled her to her knees and moved behind her, keeping her hands pinned behind her arched back.

  Behind her, James kissed her neck soothingly but she couldn’t hide the way she trembled, forced to look at her attackers. An eerie black gaze sank into her skin, making her feel soiled even without contact.

  “Shh, brave girl. Ignore them. There is no one here but you and me.” Careful hands peeled the remainder of the jacket away from her skin. She gasped when his fingers moved over the now bared flesh, stroking and teasing heat back into the pit of her stomach.

  “You’re doing wonderfully, just keep it up. They mean nothing and each one of them will pay for their crimes. I just need you to stay with me.”

  Calling up the remainder of her bravado, Olyve tried to follow his instructions. She blocked out the jeering and raucous cries of the other men and focused all of her attention on James. If they’d been alone, she would have admitted he was very good at what he was doing. His mouth touched the base of her spine and she shuddered, falling forward onto her elbows when he released her arms, capturing her hips with a violent jerk.

  Her trousers parted and she flushed even deeper when his hand jerked them down along with her undergarments. James hissed softly under his breath and Olyve made to cover her naked flesh.

  “Beautiful…”

  Liquid heat ran from her body, marking the path she wanted him to travel.

  Within her mind, she felt the barriers sigh with emotion she shouldn’t have felt. They beckoned for her to touch him. Helpless against the onslaught against her body as well as her mind, Olyve relaxed her hold on them, waiting with baited breath while they shuddered, preparing to fall.

  Must find…James Reeves.

  Chapter Six

  James wasn’t entirely certain what was going on. He tried to keep an objective distance while he touched the little sprite but every brush of his fingertips caused him to grow even harder. She smelled of woman and want, a combination that was driving him crazy.

  He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted to push her onto the filthy bed and drive his body into her weeping sheath. Oh yes, he couldn’t have ignored her interest in him if he were deaf and blind. She bit back her pleasure and swallowed her moans, even while he exposed her to the pack of rabid dogs threatening her.

  Andrew cleared his throat and the room fell silent. James carefully covered Olyve’s body when he lifted his head. “What is it?”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I see no reason to doubt that you will consummate this little game.”

  One cut from his eyes ended any complaint. His gaze was crazed, his entire demeanor different now that he’d shed his cloak of civility.

  James gathered Olyve into his arms. She was careful to avoid his gaze and kept her head down as if she were too cowed to continue to fight. He knew better, feeling her taut body quiver in his touch. “Then I shall take my leave.”

  Andrew shrugged a little, motioning for a maid with downcast eyes to step forward. James didn’t see where the woman came from but he noticed the bruises and scarring on her small frame.

  “You will find an unmarked carriage outside, waiting to take you to one of my houses outside of the city. I trust you won’t object. You will find every comfort you need there, but I need my little cousin kept out of my hair until after Christmas.”

  James shrugged as if it didn’t matter, even though his mind reeled with this new, impossible deadline. Christmas was in three days. “Why’s that, again?”

  “Because on Christmas I’m going to drain the energy from the special girls we’ve amassed and use their pain to cripple Warham Blackwell.”

  Olyve stirred in his hold, even as a weight settled beneath his breast. He may not understand exactly what was going on, but he read the message loud and clear. Andrew Whittock was insane and he was going to kill Ginny and the other captives.

  He let a cocky grin spread across his face, though he was feeling anything but. “It looks like I got the better end of that deal.”

  Goodwin snickered. “Maybe not. We get to play with them before clean up. I’ve got my eye on a somber little brat with sad brown eyes.”

  James nudged the maid into motion before he ripped the bastard’s tongue out of his face. Every step he took away from the three of them brought a meas
ure of sanity. He didn’t realize he was grinding his teeth until the girl in his arms discreetly laid her hand against his chest.

  The offer of comfort soothed him in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible.

  Still, the genuine smile she evoked died the moment they stepped outside. The wind had picked up, blowing the dust and smog up from the city and throwing it up into the clouds. The blue white glow of dawn had risen up to cast light on the grimy city walls.

  Snow continued its disappointing descent, slicking the ground with an oily flurry. The cobblestone walkway rang with his footsteps and just behind each beat of motion, another step fell.

  James stopped moving at the edge of the sidewalk, setting Olyve down carefully. He removed his jacket and handed it to her, giving the maid a dismissing wave. Three footmen, marked as her cousin’s servants by their embroidered jackets, climbed off the waiting carriage and paused, sensing the tension in the air.

  “You may as well come out.” James turned in a circle, again using his body to shield his sprite. “I’m not going to look over my shoulder the entire time I’m enjoying the girl.”

  Brian Leeway stepped out of one of the shadows the house cast. A smirk twisted his face. “You’re good. Not many people can catch my trail.”

  For the first time impatience cut into James’s voice. “What do you want, Leeway?”

  The man hissed. For a moment, the Earl wondered if insanity was contagious. His dark eyes flashed with sickly greed and deprivation. “I’m taking the girl.”

  James shrugged. “Not unless you’re able to kill me.”

  “Then I suppose that’s what I’ll be doing.” The hulking man withdrew another syringe from the leather pouch at his waist. A soft smile spread across his face, as nightmarish as his black eyes. “I’ve seen you fight. We both know there’s no way I can beat you fairly. Luckily, I don’t intend to give you that chance.”

  The liquid was in Leeway’s veins before the shout left James’s throat. The smile that spread across the brute's face grew euphoric and he stripped off his shirt. Muscles budged and veins stood out over them, living, quivering snakes of sickness. “Get ready!”

  Olyve’s scream echoed off surfaces all around them. It might as well have been a gunshot starting the race. Leeway closed the distance between them, moving with the surety of someone who knew he was a fast as he was big. James met him halfway, rolling when the bigger man swung with a meaty fist.

  The crash of bone hitting stone was sickening. James caught a whiff of honey sweet opiates and something else. He didn’t have a chance to dissect the familiar scent. A heavy boot caught him in the middle, followed by a stunning blow to the face.

  “Don’t touch me!” Olyve’s desperate cry chased the stars out of his eyes.

  Neil Wheeler had come up beside her and laid a deceptively casual hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you worry. I’ll keep an eye on our friend here while you gentlemen hash this out.”

  Leeway rushed him again, his strength almost unreal. A chilling smile remained plastered on his face even as he absorbed the quick blows that James landed. The snow began to fall heavier, sticking to his sweating body.

  James switched up his strategy, keeping the barreling man at arms length. He shot in quick for guaranteed attacks, but for the most part, he focused on keeping him off balance.

  “I thought you’d be better than this, Reeves.” Leeway hissed with pain when the earl slammed his shoulder into his back, sending him to his knees. “I thought you’d actually fight!”

  James ignored the taunts, keeping his distance while the first wave of the drug coursed through his opponents’ body. Leeway roared in frustration, all of his monstrous strength useless as the initial burst of speed bled away. When James saw his euphoric smile fade, he shifted his strategy, going on the offense.

  Leeway speared the air with clumsy, powerful punches that were easy to dodge. An arching haymaker slammed against his shoulder and he twisted, turning the painful momentum to his advantage. As James landed with a controlled groan, he lashed out with both legs, sending the beast flying backward. Using his palms and upper body, he gracefully regained his feet, standing at the ready as Leeway scrambled back up.

  “You have no right. I’ve wanted her for years. She’s mine!” Spittle left his mouth, painting the air with filthy foam. He dropped to one knee, jerked his pant leg up, and freed a single small pistol from a leather harness. Gunpowder sparked, flashing against pale winter snowflakes.

  The boom struck the air like a ton of bricks but James was already moving. Releasing the tarnished buckles at his hips, he sank his hands into the hidden leather pouches, unfolding panels of gleaming metal. The two halves of his blade fused together with a hiss of steam. Before the blaze of heat had faded, he was in motion, snatching the bullet from midair. The gleaming metal weapon spun with the force of momentum, blasts of steam displacing and melting the flurry building up around them. James danced with the arching sword, letting the technology guide his hand. The bullet rode on a fiery edge, cradled by a bed of powerful steam. With a graceful slash of his shoulder, he flung his sword arm across his chest, rocketing the bullet back at its source.

  Stunned, Leeway watched the red stain spread across his breast. “Impossible.”

  James turned away from the lifeless corpse that fell to the filthy ground. He knew what kind of image he painted. The sword glowed like an ember in the dull light and he stepped free from a curtain of snow. His eyes burned with challenge, the haze of battle still fresh on his skin.

  Wheeler stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. The slug raised his hands in surrender, backing up slowly. “I wasn’t going to take her. I know she’s yours.” After a long moment, he pulled his jacket tighter around his body. His voice shook. “Lord Whittock isn’t going to like what’s happened here. He’s fond of that one.”

  James took another step forward and the maggot jumped back. “But I can go tell him it wasn’t your fault. Leeway, he was out of his mind with jealousy. He should have respected the boss’s decision and dropped the whole matter.”

  James walked right by the quivering idiot. Olyve stood before the carriage, shivering in the cold. Her clothing was still torn and her huge eyes were watching him with a measure of respect and awe. No fear echoed in their crystal blue depths, for which he was glad. His pounding heart immediately calmed while drinking her in.

  “Get in the cab, Olyve Blackwell.”

  His voice was rough and tight with fury. Her brave little chin tilted up, throwing her cascade of blonde ringlets dancing into the air. He sucked in a breath, enchanted by the sight of her. When she turned and climbed into the transport, he was sorely tempted to grab a strand of that hair and press it to his face. Shaking off the strange need, he called back over his shoulder, “Tell Andrew whatever you’d like. He knows where my loyalties lie. You had best watch your back, though. I’m not sure who you’re standing behind.”

  He climbed into the dark depths behind the woman he’d saved, ignoring the sputtering response of a soon-to-be dead man.

  * * * *

  Olyve watched as James took the steaming blade apart and stashed it in numerous hidden pockets in his clothing. Her heart was still in her throat, banging out a quick tempo of mixed emotions. She opened her mouth, preparing to ask the thousands of questions that assaulted her mind, but he raised a hand shaking his head. With a quick gesture, he reminded her of the footmen hanging on the sides of the anonymous vehicle.

  With a delicate nod, she folded her hands in her lap and leaned back, studying her savior. He had taken a couple of nasty blows and his lip was as split as hers. Ugly bruises formed at the base of his chin and his clothes hung in tatters in several places. Scrapes and ruined flesh ravaged patches of golden skin where his form had connected to the ground.

  Snow collected in his black hair, giving him a deceptively delicate appearance. She marveled at the calm he seemed to exude, his hands steady even while sporting split knuckles.

  The quick
survey of his figure left her a little breathless and she closed her eyes against the confusing feeling. Once again, she found herself swept away by her attraction to this man. He wasn’t in the position to receive her affections and she wasn’t entirely certain she should trust him in the first place, but she couldn’t help the natural inclination. She probed her mind and found the same satisfaction coming from her Intuition.

  Everything within her: body, mind, and heart were prepared to accept him on levels she shouldn’t even have been considering. Not now, not with Andrew threatening to attack her father.

  She couldn’t figure what he hoped to gain from such an action. Her father was the head of the family for a reason. His power was without peer and despite his shortcomings; he was good at what he did. He was without equal and impossible to beat…at least, that’s what she told herself.

  Hours later, Olyve looked out across winter kissed hills untouched by the recent growth of civilization. They had changed footmen, the ones now working the carriage little more than starving hires. She noted that they didn’t wear her cousin’s insignia and wondered if it would be safe to talk. The sky, an angry gray visage, promised a blizzard, but for now there was nothing but sharp clean air. She took a deep breath, wiping sleepiness from her eyes and preparing to start a conversation.

  James spoke, beating her to the punch. “What do you want for Christmas?”

  Completely caught off guard, Olyve jerked her attention away from unhelpful thoughts. She couldn’t do anything about what her cousin was planning just yet so there was no real point in fretting over it. “What?”

  The very first awkward movement she’d seen from him and it seemed so genuine. James shrugged one shoulder as if he didn’t know what else to do. “What kind of things did you enjoy receiving for Christmas?”

  Olyve couldn’t help it. She threw her head back and laughed. The sound rooted out the dark corners of the carriage as well as her companion's heart. She saw it as clearly as she did the auras from objects that called out to her. It had been the right thing to do, the only thing to do. Leeway would have killed him and done terrible things to her, but even knowing this, James was burdened. He carried the weight of the life he had taken but with her laughter, the dark cloud of responsibility lifted just enough to reveal a cloudless aura of determination and duty.