Geared for Pleasure (38 page)

Cyrus could see a miniscule mechanism working within the
charm, but saw no way it had been placed there. No opening. What exactly had the Khepri given Dare?

His question must have been strong enough for her to hear it, because Dare answered him. “I believe it is somehow connected to her. A piece of her. A piece of the Nymphaea Infinitum. The workings inside seem to be of the same metal. And when I hold it, and think about the queen…” She paused, closing her eyes. “I can feel her. See the things she sees.”

Cyrus rubbed his face with his good hand, trying to hide his emotions from her. Disbelief was the strongest. Concern followed closely behind. He had seen many things of late. Automaton creatures battling as though sentient, theorrite engines, weapons that were so far beyond what the Wode knew of, what the shield guards could fight against… it was almost like magic.

Dare smiled sadly. “I can sense the rest of you more than ever before as well. Queen Idony has been alive for hundreds of years, Cyrus. Never aging. Ever young. Why is this so hard for you to believe?” She tucked the charm back inside her clothing, hidden from view. “I think she can feel me as well. And she knows we are on our way to Tower Orr, still trying to find her. It has given her comfort.”

“I am glad of that, at least. Though I will be keeping a closer eye on you now. I refuse to believe she would want you to wear it if it has adverse effects.” He looked down at his bandaged hand.

He was training rigorously every day, with the help of James Stacy and, interestingly enough, Wulf. With no one to play his game, Wulf was a skilled sparring partner. The two men had very different styles of fighting, but the same amount of zeal.

He was not ready to take on Freeman yet. Not as ready to protect the women he cared about, this crew, as he wanted to be. He felt a vein at his temple throb. “I regret I have not been more help on this mission. I seem to be the weak link of the chain more often than not. I fear I am setting a low bar for the next Arendal Sword.”

Dare touched his arm. “Even poisoned with something that would have killed a normal man in an instant, you still protected Nephi and Phina. You still retrieved the dagger. Phina knows how strong you are. How courageous. She told me how you survived the desert. How you escaped your fate all on your own. I, as usual, had help.”

Cyrus glanced back toward the door that led to the cabins. He wanted to see Phina, talk to her about what they’d been through, what they had done in the wardrobe. But now was not the time.

He lowered his lids in thought. “Does the queen know who this is? What kind of mind planned abductions for us both that were designed not to kill us quickly, but to break us?”

“She knows. But she is not telling me. I haven’t learned to control it yet, this new ability. But it comforts me, at least, knowing she is alive. Knowing she still has time.” Dare stepped away from the railing. “What doesn’t comfort me is the knowledge that while I have told you all of my secrets, you have shared none of yours. The dagger you nearly died to obtain, for instance. May I see it?”

He pulled it out of his belt. He had refused to let it out of his grasp, even when he was recovering from the mechanical serpent’s venom. He handed it to Dare. “I would do more than have you see it. I want you to hold on to it. Keep it safely in your care until I am back to full capacity. The Khepri said it was important to restoring the queen to power.” He tried to smile, knowing she could still feel his shame at his weakness. “I have seen you training with Seraphina. Between you, the captain, and our Felidae… I believe the men here feel there is no use for us.”

Dare’s grin was more knowing than he wanted to notice. “I am certain she could find a use for you. Were you brave enough Wode to tempt Seraphina Felidae.”

Cyrus’s blood heated in his veins at the thought. “Is that a dare, Chalice?”

She laughed. “Is that an acceptance of my challenge, Sword?”

He turned and strode across the wide expanse of deck, knowing the men were watching him from the corners of their eyes. Wulf was on the steps that led to the helm’s deck, his shaded spectacles shielding his expression.

Perhaps it was time. He needed to tell her, show her what he wanted. He knew he was man enough to hold on to her. That he wanted her. He had to make sure she did as well.

“There it is! I see it. We’re here, Freeman. By the two moons, it is just as Captain Amaranthe said it would be. The lake is lit up like a sky full of stars.” James Stacy’s voice came down from his watch in the lookout just below the bow of the aether cocoon. He had a monocular trained on the port side of the ship.

Cyrus moved with the others to the port side, and was staggered by its beauty. The lake was a massive bowl cradled in the mountain’s grasp. Two ranges met here, and their inspiring sight alone would have been enough. But the water was full of clusters of violet and silver light so brilliant the overcast day could not disguise it.

“She was worth the getting here. Now we just have to find that tower,” James crowed, and Cyrus winced at his words. He could not decide if he wanted to kill the man for poor timing or thank him for the salvation of a new mission. A new chance for him to make a contribution.

He knew the Felidae women from Faro Outpost demanded their suitors perform feats of bravery before they accepted them. Perhaps if he found the tower, found the answers to the queen’s whereabouts, Seraphina would see him as a worthy mate.

He would not allow it to be any other way.

“I do believe Freeman is unhappy with you, my friend.”

Phina’s ear twitched in amusement as she listened to Wulf and Bodhan’s hushed conversation behind her. They were scouting the area around the lake—Bodhan and Dare, Wulf, the captain and Freeman… Cyrus. The rest of the men had the good fortune to deploy the landing dodge and either stay inside or guard the perimeter.

Wulf had a smile in his lilting voice. “The burn of the sun is worth it, for that reason alone. Besides, you know me, Bodhan. I am an adventurer.”

Bodhan covered his laugh with a cough. “You are a great inventor, Wulfric, son of Wulfric the Great. You are a humorous companion as well. But you cannot call yourself an adventurer when this is the first time you have left Aaru.”

“If something is worth doing, it is worth pretending expertise in until you are as perfect as you appear to be.” Wulf made a tsking sound. “The irresistible Captain Amaranthe’s first mate has the opposite problem. He is
too
good at his jobs. All of them. So perfect, the
appropriate people are not impressed by his prowess. A clock that needs no winding is never cleaned. His loss could be my gain.”

She raised her eyebrows at that. She had seen the dance the captain and their latest passenger were doing. She knew the fearless Nerida Amaranthe had been impressed with Wulf’s…
appreciation
for her type of foreplay.

But they did not smell right together. Wulf was correct, in his way. Freeman needed to stop being perfect at everything. To stop being everything the captain needed before she knew she needed it. It might be the only way to change the state of things.

As they wandered around the clearing near the lake, she noticed suddenly that her skin felt odd. Unusual. Something was here, just out of reach, but she could neither see it nor quite smell it. It was simply off.

She wanted to blame Cyrus. But then, she could not seem to blame him for anything these days. He had helped her to save her sister, though he’d nearly paid a fatal price for his actions. She’d sucked the poison out of his skin and strapped his unconscious form between herself and Nephi so they could cross the steep drop between the Palace and the tunnel’s opening. She’d listened to her brother’s endless stream of complaints and insults while she tried to assure Nephi that her demon was truly gone as they waited for the Deviant. But her thoughts had been with him. Cyrus. She’d prayed for the captain to hurry. For Freeman to know what to do to make him better. She could not lose him now.

Ellsworth was dead by her hand. She had reveled in his blood, and reveled in watching Cyrus end the lives of those who’d guarded him. It had been a primal need to protect her own. She had seen the insane light in Ellsworth’s eyes as the Raj member had stroked Nephi, begging for her love even as he touched the bruises he had caused. Phina had lost control.

Killing a Raj was the highest offense in Theorrey. Despite his aid in the rescue, was that the reason Cyrus was not throwing her over his shoulder and holding her prisoner in his bedroom until neither of them could walk?

No. She knew it wasn’t true. He no longer hated her. The way he looked at her now scared her more than his rage ever had. It made her crave things she wasn’t sure she deserved.

After what happened in the palace, that the stalemate between them had changed. He was no longer angry. And she? She was no longer the same. She wanted something she’d never dared imagine before. Something she had scorned but secretly desired her whole life.

And she wanted it with him. She just needed to find the courage to tell him.

“Phina?” She turned to see Dare staring innocently in her direction. She was standing close the captain, and both the women watched her with knowing smiles.

She lifted her chin. “Yes, fair Dare?”

“Cyrus went to check the tree line at the forest’s edge. Could you please find him and tell him it would be nice if he remained in view?” Even from this distance, Phina could easily see the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “I am sure he would be grateful for the help.”

Humans had no true subtlety. But then, Phina hated subtlety. She also hated the surge of excitement that heated her blood at the thought of speaking to him alone, knowing Dare could feel it. “I am always eager to serve. You know that. In some towns I am famous for it.”

She winked her thanks with the pretense of playful ease and headed off in the direction of Cyrus’s scent. She was, she had to admit, rather hopeless when it came to the Queen’s Sword. She wanted to scratch and bite him, fight him almost as desperately as
she wanted him to force her to stop. She wanted him to make her submit. To love her.

Phina would never admit that to the captain. To Captain Amaranthe, submission, sensual or otherwise, was a sign of absolute, unforgiveable weakness. It was a belief that they had always shared. Men were tools never to be trusted, and to be discarded when their usefulness was at an end.

What did you do when you felt you needed a particular man in order to breathe each day? To smile? To keep your heart from breaking?

Jobi had sensed her new weakness before he was taken off the ship and reveled in it. “I always thought you were cracked, believing you could live amongst humans and be treated as an equal. More than that—be treated better than an equal.” He’d sneered, glancing at the battered Nephi. “We are lower than pets to them. Less important than the threehorn they feed and raise and keep confined until it’s old enough for slaughter. At least they need it to survive. And you believe, what? That a Wode, the Queen’s Sword himself, would want to claim you?”

Now she caught Cyrus’s scent easily when she stepped into the wooded area at the edge of the lake, but she allowed him to think he retained the advantage. He was still, his heart racing. He knew she was coming.

Phina’s tail seemed to have a mind of its own, lifting and swaying provocatively as she strode past the tree he skulked behind.

Letting him grab her around the waist and spin her until her back was against the tree was exhilarating. The hardness of his lower body pressing against hers was arousing her beyond thought.

A sound of pleasure escaped her throat and she rubbed herself against him. “We are supposed to be looking for the tower.”

His jaw was clenched, the indigo of his eyes nearly black. “I heard
you coming. Phina, we need to talk. I have something I want to tell you. Need to tell you.”

The strange sensations along her spine had only increased with her elevated adrenaline. This place felt wild. Free. No factory stench, no aroma of civilization.

Cyrus. And something else. Both scents made her unable to crave anything but release. “The Sword wants to talk? What a shame.” She leaned forward and licked his neck. His taste was more addictive than any drink, any herbal concoction. “I would rather play.”

His grip on her tightened and he swore, lowering his forehead to hers. “This is not play for me, Seraphina.”

No, it was not play for her, either. She reached for his wrist and lifted it up so she could see. It was still bandaged, but she could sense it was healing swiftly. It would hurt him for a while to come, but he could use it. She had never seen such a destructive, fast-acting poison. And she knew her poisons.

Her lips opened over the tips of his fingers. “A bit of play would be good for you, Sword. You are far too serious.”

She lifted one of her legs up his thigh, using her strength to pull him closer, harder, against her. Cyrus huffed out a helpless breath. “
You
are far too dangerous for my peace of mind. Too—”

She slid her free hand through his hair and tugged him down for a kiss. She did not want to hear that he thought she was too dangerous, too anything for him. Did not want to hear the rejection his mind may tell him to give her, though his body was saying something else entirely.

She moved his bandaged hand to her breasts. He loved them, she knew. Loved touching them. Kissing them. Watching them bounce when she walked by, believing she did not know he was looking.

His fingers scraped the cream-like mounds that pushed up over her corset and curled instinctively into her skin.
Yes
. She knew him. Knew what he desired. What he loved.

He could take her here, in the wild, and forget what she had done. Forgive her again. The thought made part of her mind cringe, but she wanted him too much to care. Loved him.

“You will step away from her now. Should you call out to the others you will die.”

The strange male voice interrupted her internal struggle, her rising passion.