Steel Dominance (23 page)

She tugged her gaze back, stepped to Tansu, and hugged her. “Thank you.” A tear or two spilled down her cheeks. Abandoning this woman to live the rest of her life in the harem seemed so callous, and yet what else could she do?

“Take care of yourself.” She sniffed and leaned away to look in the woman’s eyes. “Please.”

“I will.” Tansu smiled back, stroking the back of Sofia’s neck as she did so. Then she pulled the hug in close again and whispered in Sofia’s ear. “You also, Miss. Take care.”

Light as a butterfly, she kissed Sofia’s earlobe. The kiss was strangely sensual. The touch stirred faint tingles in her body. The soft mounds of Tansu’s breasts pressing into her own became ever so obvious.

Is she trying to arouse me?
If she was, it had worked. Her breathing accelerated. Her pulse tapped faster, harder. Why did this seem a betrayal of Dankyo? They weren’t together, were they? Yet she’d not lost hope that they might be some day.

What a mess my head is.

Flustered, she slipped away and used the excuse of rearranging her clothes to find calmness within.

But, she might not ever see Tansu again. Sofia drew in a breath and looked up. “May you have a good life.”

A nod was Tansu’s reply, though her eyes bloomed darker as if there was more she dared not say it aloud.

Leaving the palace set a curious mark on her, as if this was
the
day to be remembered and not the day she actually solved the puzzle. So, so, strange. Sometimes her subconscious sent her messages, and she only deciphered them a whole week later. She pushed the notion aside. Time to return to Dankyo, and to the awkward silence that hung between them whenever they inhabited the same room.

Maybe he’ll say something. Maybe all he needed was time? I’d be stupid not to let him have that
. But, last night she’d wrecked it, hadn’t she?
Shrew, thy name is Sofia
. A heavy ache settled in her chest.

The ride back in the vehicle had become commonplace, and the tension between her and Dankyo was as painful as tiptoeing on fractured glass. So she stared out through the saint’s head frosted on the window without seeing anything, until the wheels and tracks squeaked to a halt. The door was opened by the driver, and she alighted. To her left, across the white hood, movement drew her eye.

An old man in a dark robe, a seller of birds, grinned at her. His skin was bronzed by sun. The tips of his teeth showed. One of his tame blue birds jumped about the shoulder of a patron while money exchanged hands. Bird sellers were common. The man was here most days, she recalled. She smiled, then swung her head and located Dankyo waiting for her. The caramel stone arch of the tunnel leading to the compound gate showed beyond his shoulder.

Smile fading, she took another step. Another night awaited. Enduring having her man feet away yet untouchable would be exquisite torment. Only he wasn’t hers, of course. And maybe never would be.

Light spun past. With a
bang
something penetrated the engine. A gout of steam hissed from the hood, spreading into a cloud. Somehow, she’d seen the glint of a projectile flitting by.

Hell
. An attack…but it had come from above, from the compound wall above.

Dizziness blurred her sight as the knowledge overran her thoughts.

“Sofia!” With the smoothness of eternal practice, Dankyo ripped his pistol from the shoulder holster inside his coat. “Come!”

“Wait.”
Damn
. Where was safe? He hadn’t seen what she had.

A series of
kerumps
split the air. Her hair billowed.

The windows of the three cars of their escort blistered white, bulged out in fractured arrays of glass, splintering into a million fléchettes—the cars had been hit simultaneously by something big and nasty. Glass skidded on tarmac.

The guards inside had no chance. Steam scalded them. Their cries percolated the air as they writhed like worms in hot water. Shadows and limbs moved. Someone, red and screaming, thrust open a door, and spilled out in a fog of superheated air. Mouth agape, she caught the scent of cooked meat.

Dankyo had always said the entry to the compound was the weak point—exit the car, walk those bare yards to the gate. And now, they paid.

The tug of Dankyo’s hand on hers awoke her. “Run! The gate!” He yanked harder, and she spun. Despite the lingering tinkle of glass, the suck of her breath seemed loud. Under the ball of her foot, dirt rasped and crunched. Soft leather soles—fragments would pierce her like a needle through butter.

The bird seller watched. The cage door swung on its hinge.

She absorbed the details in a microsecond. Blue birds swarmed about his head. Wings fluttered. Beaks glinted gold in the sun. At his feet lay the crumpled body of his customer. Blue birds? Gold beaks? Dyed? Metal?
Clickety click. Tickety tick
. Clues ratcheted through her brain and lined up, neatly, patient as corpses at the morgue.

Automaton birds
. Unliving wings painted the air with swirls of blue as the flock launched in a long arc, then came around, aiming at her, their target.

“Dankyo!” She gasped. “The birds. Poisoned!”

As she ran with head half-turned, she tripped on something soft and rammed into his back. Arms flailing, she spun toward the ground. Dankyo caught her at the waist and steadied her.

“The inner gate’s locked.” He shoved her behind him. They were in the shadow of the tunnel.

The vertical lines of the metal gate rose before her. Inside, the courtyard festered in the late sun with a light sprinkling of corpses. Nothing moved, except flies. The clash and clang of swords, and some shouts and pistol shots suggested there were guards still fighting.

When she peeked past Dankyo’s trouser leg, she saw a body in uniform—the one she’d tripped on.

Dead.
Soon that might be us.

Dankyo knelt. The birds swept in, then swirled in confusion at the entrance. Low slants of sunlight pricked on the gold of their beaks—tiny, sharp and toxic. A muted slither, and then the soft flow of silver on steel made her step back. He’d taken a sword from the body and needed space. Through the chiffon, the cold metal gate pressed down her spine.

How many birds? She counted, flicking from one blur of blue to the next. Twenty? More? Dankyo lunged to his feet and blocked her view, so she edged to the side.
I need a weapon.

There were none. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” He adjusted his stance, and the black of his suit tightened across his shoulders. A frock coat, and it would hinder his movement yet perhaps also protect him. “Petals,” he muttered. “They’re all petals.”

The leaders of the flock arrowed toward them.

She gagged on her next breath. The life of this man hung on a pinpoint of time.
This man I love
. She shivered.

They struck.

The whirr of tiny clockworks accompanied them.

She’d seen him handle twice as many petals without missing one, but flowers couldn’t hit back and only moved downward as commanded by gravity and their soft, curved shape. The birds hovered and darted like hummingbirds, and the red gleam of their eyeballs made it seem as if they cataloged each reaction of Dankyo’s.

But he’s a sword master. He can do this.

A bird crashed to the ground in a tinkle of feathers, smashed cogs, and springs.

She dug her nails into her palms and tried not to blink.

The key, she thought, is efficient movement. Dankyo did not move with sudden strikes or thrusts, but in long swirls that drew the blade in loops of silver. He never stopped and kept it ever moving. When blade met bird a little shattering pop announced success.

Twenty-one…no, two. She could count them now.
Keep going. Keep going.

She saw the pattern. Such small automatons, with small choices—easy to predict.
Yes.

And that was when two birds whirred in a wide circle, around behind Dankyo, and past his defense of whirling metal.
Oh God. They’re not after me. They’re after him.

Without hesitation, she stepped up, gauging the destination of the little creatures. Vectors and the minutiae of mathematical probability solidified, became one.

If I miss, he’ll die
. Sweat beaded her brow.
Shut up, shut up, shut up! Concentrate!

Avoid the beaks. Go!

Simultaneously, she lunged with both hands…and grabbed. The birds squirmed in her fists, wings still flapping, beaks spearing at her. But she held their necks. Let them go, and they’d get her.

I can’t break them with my hands.

Each wriggle of their bodies loosened her grip.
What do I do?
She collapsed to her knees and thrust them beak first into the ground. They crunched. The bodies gave little shudders, squeaked, and with a high-pitched scream of torn metal, wound down to silence and stillness.

Shuddering, she dropped them. The birds tumbled to the paving stones. A small gear wheeled away, then twirled and toppled. Cuts on her palms leaked dots of blood.
Dankyo
. She looked up, afraid of what she might see.

Sirens approached.

Smacked sideways by his blade, the last bird rolled across the ground.

“Sofia!” He dropped the sword, went to one knee, and scooped her up in his arms.

Something monstrous and white rumbled across the outer end of the tunnel, shunting the limousine aside. Its side-turret guns swiveled and trained on them.

“We’re okay. You’re safe.” Dankyo kissed the top of her head. “See the saint emblem on the door? We’re safe. It’s a palace landship.”

She nodded but didn’t dare speak.
Stop shaking, fool. Get over all the scaredy-cat stuff. He kissed me. Only my hair, but that counts, doesn’t it?

After she craned her neck to check the courtyard and saw only the compound security guards closing in, she snuggled closer and shut her eyes. “Am I safe with you? Truly?” She lowered her voice. “Or will this end tomorrow?” Then she waited, and only her heart dared to move.

From the way Dankyo had frozen, she knew he’d figured out her meaning. He tightened his grip. “Open your eyes, Sofia.”

She did and saw him looking down at her. He had such beautiful brown eyes for a man.

“Yes. You’re safe. I’m not letting you go.”

“Ah.” Tentatively, she put on a shaky smile. “Then—”

“Shh. No explanations now. Later. Give me just this little time. Just a little.”

Later?
She fidgeted with a button on his shirt. “So you know what—”

“Maybe.”

Maybe?
Was that enough?

Then he leaned in and kissed her. Just a plain ordinary kiss that sent tingles running down to her toes and made her feel loved. It was enough. It would do. She heaved out a sigh and let all her worries drain away. It was enough. “Then I am yours for now.” Doubt quivered to life. “If you want me?”

“I know that I don’t want to let you go.” He smiled fiercely. “Give me time. Please.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I will.” She’d give him time, if that’s what he needed. Reality intruded. Not a thousand years, though; she wasn’t going to roll over, belly up, and let him trample her with uncertainty. Her father and brothers had cured her of that.

Chapter Twenty-One

They’d ended up in an office on one of the upper stories. Stone walls and a good field of view, she’d heard Dankyo say when they’d arrived. With a pile of weapons on one of the desks, and a revolving cadre of guards visiting for orders, Dankyo gained control of the little battle for the compound. Henry sprawled across a sofa, reading some manual as if nothing more dangerous than a picnic was happening.

She sat on the floor in a corner of the room, watching all the fuss, trying not to distract Dankyo by trembling. Zigzag was here. After laying his head on her lap for a quick scratch, he’d gone over and flopped onto his belly near the sofa and stared under it. Scuffling sounds made her wonder if a clockie was trapped there.

The shots had mostly died away after ten minutes. Palace security was helping mop up the last of the invaders. After a big explosion that rocked the walls, and her heart, there’d been only distant shouts. The burnt smell of voltaic weapons blew in through the window overlooking the courtyard.

Why wasn’t anyone screaming, though? Surely there were wounded? She kept her mind off the gut-numbing violence by running through puzzles, over and over. Her nails had been bitten to the quick. She’d know some of the dead, for sure. A shake would come out of nowhere now and then and run ice-cold up her body.

She guessed that, if it wasn’t for her, Dankyo would have been out there too. She wanted to go over and hug him, to feel safe in his arms, but she didn’t. Right now he was needed for more important things. Every few minutes, he glanced at her, as if checking she’d not vanished. He sat on the corner of the desk, looking solid and immoveable, like a gargoyle on a building.

A beak-nosed janissary carrying a gauss pistol stalked in with two palace guards. Both wore some fancy armor that sparkled like a jewelry store in an electric storm. Mad. At night it would be like asking to get targeted.

Target
. The word triggered memories of the bird seller.

“Sir.” The janissary flung his short red cloak over his shoulder. “We have the place secured. The man you spoke of who released the birds hasn’t been found.”

Dankyo nodded, then spoke to the one man left in House Kevonis gray. “Reece? Dead and wounded?”

“Fourteen dead and twelve wounded of ours, sir.” The young man took off his cap and swiped his forehead. Blood streaked his cheek. “All of theirs still remaining in the compound are dead. Nine of those. Some suicided when caught. But we do have command again. Captain Riccardo is among the dead. I have reports that he was involved in allowing the enemy to enter.”

Fourteen dead. So many! Ugh. Evil man
. She’d known he was bad.

Thinking of all those dead people, people who would never breathe again, talk again, and all for what?