Steel Dominance (20 page)

She nodded, then swallowed. “Is there some way to find out? He was so nice.” A thought occurred to her. “If he was on our side, not some enemy, then that creature he made won’t be dangerous.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” He clucked his tongue.

Under her cheek, she felt the slow heave of his chest and smelled his deep scent. Dankyo was so solid, so
real
, she doubted anything could harm him. But panic clutched her heart for a second.
Please, no. I couldn’t take it if he was hurt.

“Perhaps it’s not dangerous,” he added. “It never hurts to be careful, though.”

It had hurt
him
, though—the clock-dog. She tried, and failed, to figure out why she cared what happened to a mishmash of clockwork parts.

“Now. Tell me how you knew there was a bomb.”

Strange how she’d forgotten that. All the messy crazy stuff had distracted her. “Um. The note. The boy who ran through gave it to me. It was in code, but I worked out what it meant.” She thought back. “It said something like, there’s a bomb at the toy maker, and then it said, stop meddling.”

“Meddling?” He stared at the back of the driver’s seat. “There are implications here that I don’t like. Someone knows about you and your puzzle-solving ability. And they think you’re somehow meddling, but in what? If the bomb was a killing device, then they aimed to help you also.” He let out a long breath, peered down at her. “What do you make of this?”

Me? What do I think of all this spy stuff?
But, she solved puzzles. Was this too a sort of puzzle? She’d never really applied herself to something like this. She thought through it all.

“There’s so many permutations. It seems unlikely to be the Ottomans. Could it be meant to stop you interfering in affairs between the emperor-bey and the Ottomans?”

“That was my conclusion too, Miss Sofia. But also, who planted the bomb? And how does the person who wrote the note relate to them?”

Oh
. She’d not figured that bit. Maybe people were too complicated for her?

“As for the man and whether he died”—he squeezed her shoulder—“I’ll be making enquiries. There was no body. It’s possible he escaped into the river.”

Possible, but even she wasn’t convinced. “I don’t want anyone else dying because of something I might have done.” She sniffed. Tears were ridiculous, but her hands were trembling too.

“Oh, Sofia.” The smile he gave her was a little sad, a little incredulous. “I’m sorry you are upset by this, but it is unavoidable. There’s too much at stake. I just hope no enemy has discovered what you really aim to do here. I want to keep you safe. I want us all safe. Just remember to say if you want this to stop…if you want to go home. Because I’ll board the next airship in an instant. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Then he pulled her to him, kissed her once on the lips, and held her that way until they arrived at the compound.

She thought a while as they drove.
This is the second time today I’ve cuddled up to Dankyo.

She’d never heard of him as a caring man. They’d told her he was a hard taskmaster, an unforgiving, stick-to-the-rule-book-or-die sort of person. Had the rumors been that wrong? The alternative crept up on her and stayed in her mind all the way back.
Has he changed because of me?

When she opened the door and stepped out, a clunk and rattle from under the car made her crouch to look. The clock-dog was untangling his limbs. He got to his feet and shook out all his joints in a metal shimmy and whirr. His tongue flopped out, reaching hallway to the ground. Then he leaped forward and circled her legs several times in a whip-fast spin of legs and body.

“Damnation.” Dankyo had come round the end of the limousine. He reached under his coat. “How?”

She couldn’t stop her mouth curving into a lopsided smile. “I think he was clinging on under the car somehow.” The long shape of the revolver emerged as Dankyo pulled it from inside his coat. She stepped sideways to shield the clock-dog, then scooped him up. “No. You can’t! He’s harmed no one.”

“No?” Eyes dark, Dankyo stepped up to her, seized the creature by the neck, and jiggled him. “If I say he’s unsafe, he’s unsafe. Let me take him. Now.”

Mouth trembling, tears brimming on her eyelids, she released her hold. “Please.”

He clicked his fingers and gave the clock-dog to the guard who came forward. Though it wriggled in his arms, he held it tight enough to stop any escape.

“Please?” Only one possible way to appeal to Dankyo surfaced. She dropped to her knees and fingered his trousers at the knee, blinking up through watery eyes.

Head shaking side to side, mouth set, he examined her, then gave the clock-dog a long look. “I’ll do this much. Henry will look at him. We will abide by his decision. Satisfied?”

Surely Henry would see the thing wasn’t dangerous? A smile spread. “Yes, thank you.” Then she added softly, overcome by evil inspiration, “Shall I kiss your feet now? But no, they are too smelly after all the walking today. Your knee?” With both arms, she hugged his knee and grinned.

“What?” Slowly Dankyo squatted down to her level. He fisted her hair, screwing his fingers in tight enough to hurt just a little. “I’ll take this out on your butt later.”

A frisson of delight swept her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” With his hand still tight as a steel knot in her hair, he kissed her thoroughly—enough to leave her breathless and her groin throbbing. When he stopped, his deep brown eyes held her as much as his fist did—seeming to delve into her very soul. She shuddered, sinking, sent floundering by the depth of his control.

Oh
. She so wanted his hand between her legs.

The rest of the day was reserved for the palace. Though security seemed a little tighter and the number of soldiers at the gate might have been more by five or ten, it was as if the bomb were a mere blip on the horizon. The trek through the palace corridors was the same—Xiang escorted her, and the iron-faced woman with the bun came too. The Clockwork Warrior had, of course, not changed at all.

She stared at him.
But I mean to make you change
. Again, her instincts urged her to
do
. To do what she knew down to the last microcosm of her flesh was the way to solve his puzzle.

“No,” she whispered. If nothing else, university had taught her how to be thorough. She would catalog every detail of him before she attempted anything. A week or so, then she would be ready.

Lunch came around too soon. She sat outside the tomb on a picnic blanket with Xiang, gnawing on roasted chicken and eating fresh-baked bread. It seemed so strange and so normal at the same time. A flock of green parrots flew overhead, and she watched them wing across, screeching at each other. “So pretty. I’d much rather see these than birds in a cage.”

“Oh?” Xiang wrenched another bite off her drumstick and swallowed. She looked skyward with a thoughtful expression on her face. “So you find birds beautiful?”

“Don’t you?” How could anyone not? “The colors of their feathers, their smallness, the brilliance of their design even.”

“Design?” Xiang cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes!” The chicken leg Sofia was using to point suddenly seemed ridiculous. Chickens were birds, after all. “Um. You know, the way all their parts fit together and let them fly so elegantly.”

“Ahhh. Yes. Good design, I understand.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and her hand on her pants, then picked up her scabbard and slid the sword half out. “This weapon has been my partner in a thousand fights and has never failed me. This is good design too.”

“Yes, I suppose.” The gulf between her way of seeing birds and Xiang’s had grown larger. “I should let you see the sketches Dankyo does of birds. Watercolors of them skimming the river.” The brightness in Xiang’s eyes showed promise. Perhaps she too liked art?

She slammed the sword home, then placed it carefully on the grass. “Yes. I should like to see those.”

“Good.” Now she’d just have to remember to ask Dankyo for a few to bring next time.

The parrots had stopped calling out. Quiet settled.

“How is your new boyfriend?’ It seemed as good a conversation ploy as any. Sofia propped herself back on her arms and waited.

“Mmm.” Xiang screwed up her face. “Not so good. He seems to be more interested in other women.”

“Oh. Not good.”

“I don’t hold much hope for us.” Her gaze centered over Sofia’s shoulder. “Ah. Here we are. Your new instructor in how a slave should behave. The emperor-bey thought it best to do at least a little training in case the Janissary of the Gardens tests you. The janissaries hold much political power. We don’t want to upset them.”

Suppressing a groan, Sofia looked behind her. A young woman in a figure-hugging blue silk dress came toward them along the path leading to the entrance to the huge garden. As she walked past, swaying sensuously, her raven-black hair swished across her bottom.

She lowered herself to her knees, then bowed, palms on the paving stones. “Guard Xiang. Lady Sofia. Greetings.”

Lady? The woman knows I’m not a slave?
Confused, she looked at Xiang.

“Be calm, lady. This one knows. None in the harem can tell your secret to any except the emperor-bey. You are safe. Now.” She rose and dusted her hands on the seat of her leggings. “Tansu is here to teach you. Please let her do so. Tansu, up and teach Sofia all about being a good slave.” She smiled thinly. “I need to do my sword katas, but I will watch to make sure your results are good.”

Tansu blushed and bowed low again, her forehead to the ground. “Thank you. I shall be good in my duties.”

“Of course you will.” After unsheathing her sword with a flourish, Xiang sauntered off.

Seeing Tansu still frozen with her head down, Sofia went to her. “Come. I won’t bite.” Whatever this woman was supposed to teach, she may as well learn it. Like anything here, there seemed hidden undercurrents. If she did this wrong, perhaps the woman would suffer? The rest from studying was welcome in any case. But if she went at the puzzle too madly, her head would suffer.

She put a hand on the woman’s upper arm. “Teach me.”

One amber eye peeked up at her as Tansu angled her head. Then she sat back on her heels and smiled shyly. “I shall.”

Half an hour of instruction in kneeling and bowing, and she had down pat all of what Tansu wished her to learn for the day. Though the hand signs were new, the main differences between what she taught and Dankyo’s instructions were only a matter of speed and gracefulness. The beaming smile Sofia earned from that warmed her like a drink of hot chocolate. Another friend, perhaps?

“Might I ask how you came to be here, Tansu?”

“Oh. Myself?” Tansu looked about as if to check the whereabouts of Xiang. “I was captured. My family left me behind. I was a daughter of an Ottoman zealot. My punishment for being a daughter of a criminal is to serve the emperor-bey.”

“Ah.” Punishment? Did serving mean what she thought?
Of course it does, stupid
. Being the emperor-bey’s enemy had ramifications she’d never considered. Though perhaps serving in his harem beat being beheaded? She’d heard that was the end of many criminals here. But declared a criminal because your parents did something wrong… How goddamned awful.

The plight of Tansu kept her mind churning all the way home, until Dankyo took her into their room, kicked the door shut, and ordered her to strip.

That woke her. From the shape of his trousers, the man had an erection to rival a very naughty stone statue.

He raised an eyebrow, and she felt herself stir with lust.
How can I not?
The misery of the day fell away.
I’m his. He wants me
. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” She took off her panties, sure the hint of her nakedness under the material of her mist-pink skirt would tantalize him.

“Did I say to take your underclothes off first?” The rock-rumbling baritone paralyzed her.

“No,” she squeaked.

“Crawl to the bed on your knees and present your bare ass to me.”

Oh. God
. Her slit moistened instantly.

But…crawl? Her mouth dropped open. She stared back at him for all of two seconds. He wasn’t budging. The need to break from the hold of his gaze overwhelmed her, and she looked at the floor. Yet knowing he watched her and had seen her look away… Warmth trickled through her, turning her thoughts upside down. Last time he’d ordered her to do this had been at the landing field.

And I hated it
. Now, though…

The last flicker of her pride protested that this was demeaning. Yet not doing as he asked would have killed her. She crawled. The journey left her so ready to be taken. With her head on the quilt, and her eyes closed, she moaned when he first touched her butt.

“Good girl.” He wrapped his hand around her neck and bit the muscle at the top, where her nape met her hair. She melted. She sank forever into the quilt, mind blank, limp and only distantly aware of him taking her wrists in his and binding them together.

Chapter Eighteen

On her return from the palace the next afternoon, Dankyo escorted her to Henry’s workshop. The copy of the Clockwork Warrior stood there in the center of the floor, though now he appeared repaired. She couldn’t resist circling him, noting the differences and wondering if this was how the real warrior would look if made to stand.

“The steam funnels are gone?” She moved back, not looking where she trod. A stray tool on the floor made her half trip.

“Careful.” Dankyo steadied her by her elbow.

The door to the small office slammed. Henry walked over, cradling a wriggling cloth bundle. “The steam was more for an operational battlefield warrior. I’ve given up on that idea.”

“Ah.” She pursed her mouth. “I saw a winding hole on him. Yes?” What in the world did Henry carry? Hope kindled.

“Correct. He’s fully clockwork now, plus there’s a small voltaic battery that I had installed to quick start the steam engine.” Henry stopped a few feet away and tugged at the cloth. “Here, I’ve checked him over. He’s safe, as far as I can tell without thoroughly dissecting him.” The last fold of cloth fell away.