Steel Dominance (37 page)

“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 and 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?

A magpie flew in and rested on the balcony rail outside. Ruffled by gusts, feathers fluttering, it looked dejected, yet it was free. It cocked an eye at her and exchanged stares through the glass before launching back into the air and flying away.

That would be her in a few days, free yet miserable.

Another knock on the door. The meeting. She may as well clear the air, get her thoughts off her chest, and throw something at Dankyo, if it came to that.

“Come in!” she called out grumpily, then sat up against the headboard.

First through the door was Theo Kevonis.

Oops
. The little short white nightie she was wearing, with all the frills and bows and low-scooped bodice, showed a whole lot of cleavage. She tugged the sheet and quilt up to her neck.

Filing in after him came Claire, who shot her a grin and a thumbs-up, then dour Dankyo. His mouth was almost upside down.

Her fingers itched for that book. She sighed.
Wait and see what he says first, then throw it
. The tower of books next to her thigh toppled over as she shifted.

Last of all, Zigzag came powering in, legs going like locomotive wheels. He slid on the polished timber floor as he switched direction. Then he leaped and piled onto the bed, plowing into the books. His springy tail wagging, he looked up at her.

“I do swear that thing gets more doglike every day, Miss White.” Theo advanced, hand out to shake hers.

Miss White
was so formal, and so not her. She hated it. But, there was no way she was going to be nice and tell him to call her Sofia, not now, not today, when she’d been so lonely, and ready to cry if something else bad happened.

Won’t kill me to shake hands.

With his black curls dangling across his forehead and those gray eyes, she could see why Claire had fallen for him. And the compulsion to not look him in the eyes was there again. Whenever she met Theo or Dankyo, it happened.
Chicken
. But this time, she struggled and stared back. A little smile caught at his lips, as if he’d seen that initial swerve of her gaze.

“Apologies.” He enclosed her hand and squeezed, “Most of this is my fault. But there was a valid reason.”

Apologies?
“What do you mean?” But his smile warmed her. Maybe House Kevonis wasn’t a cold snake pit after all?

He dragged over a chair and sat, waved the others to sit also, though Dankyo instead took up position on the opposite side of the bed, hands clasped and waiting, like some sort of wooden toy soldier. No improvement there.

After glancing at him, she turned back to Theo. Claire sat on the arm of his chair and swung her leg. She’d changed. Her boots, leggings, and cute little shirt seemed a cross between assassin bodyguard and little Miss Muffet. And when Theo put his hand around her ass, hugging her hip, she barely raised an eyebrow.

“Claire told me how unhappy you are, as did Dankyo. It’s my fault, Miss White. About a week ago we received the reports on what happened at Byzantium. Dankyo had, of course, told me about your belief that you were the Clockwork Warrior. Because you were so ill and seemed merely an injured woman, I neglected to act on this. The report, however, stunned me.”

This was not sounding good. Feeling like he’d just painted a target on her forehead, she stayed quiet and listened.

He leaned forward. “Sofia, I have never had to ask Dankyo to be
more
protective. Never had to ask him to be
more
suspicious of anyone. For once, he was defending someone who could potentially prove terribly dangerous…when all our information said he should instead be doing the opposite. That person was you. You are potentially dangerous.”

Oh. Oh. So I’m a monster?
She sat back farther, feeling that hard timber on her spine and her stomach clench up. Nowhere to go. Then Dankyo took her hand and patted it. She saw him mouth the words.
It’s okay.

The first reassuring thing he’d done all week. Quietly she tried to free her hand, but he held on. Where was this heading?

“And so. The reports. Here.” Theo tossed a sheaf of paper onto the quilt. “Read them if you wish. I have copies.”

Zigzag bumped her with his nose, and she absentmindedly reached over and patted him with her free hand. “What do they say?”

He angled an eyebrow. “A summary? Very well. Autopsies…much of the evidence revolved around that. They found one man with every piece of the clockwork parts from his armor driven inches into his chest and stomach, and they found seven men who died of inexplicable failure of the mechanisms of their gauss rifles.” He paused, tapped his fingers slowly on the unoccupied armrest. “Which resulted in them being both electrocuted and burnt to death.”

She strived to keep her face calm, her hands still, but her mouth had dried to dust. For days, she’d tried not to remember that she’d killed. It was a mark she’d bear forever. Enemies or not, they’d been people.

“Tansu asserted that you somehow caused all their deaths. So”—he watched her carefully, perhaps to see how she reacted—“I decided, over and above Dankyo’s protests, to keep you under observation and, once you were somewhat recovered, even to try to annoy you or anger you a little.”

Understanding dawned. “So you ordered Dankyo away?”
How demonic. How damnably awful
. “But you let Claire visit.”

“Yes, he did let me do that.” Claire smiled ruefully, her mouth twisting to one side. “I insisted. The other was cruel enough.”

“Claire. Shh.”

She looked down at Theo and hesitated. “Sorry.”

Sofia looked from one to the other. So much seemed to go on between them that she couldn’t figure out.

“As I was about to say, yes, I sent Dankyo away to do something, and then I deliberately made sure he couldn’t return. And I’m sorry that bothered you.”

That was why he’d been gone? Not because… So he truly wasn’t upset with her. A pang of happiness hit her so sharply she didn’t dare turn around in case she burst into tears.

From Dankyo came a muted throat clearing. Theo gazed over her shoulder. He rubbed his chin hard enough that Sofia could hear the rasp, then leaned against the back of his chair. “Dankyo, I’m also sorry it has strained our friendship, but it needed to be done. And you know why.”

“Yes, sir.” He stopped patting her hand. “Though I’m not sure if Sofia understands.”

That sounded so confusing. But she’d figured it out herself. “Let me guess. You wanted to see if I would turn into a monster?”

“Yes,” Dankyo said. “He did. And he thought I would interfere. He was right.”

He was? She shut her eyes a moment. So good to hear that said.

She wriggled her fingers under Dankyo’s but then found him caressing her palm with his thumb.
Mmm
. Annoyance vied with bliss. The man knew how to calm her down.

Theo continued. “Yes. You’ve been under surveillance. We still don’t know what has changed about you; the tests in those papers show nothing much. The doctors found no new animalcules in your blood. And most importantly, you’ve not tried to attack anyone or alter clockworks in any aggressive way. Therefore”—he lightly clapped his hand on his thigh—“I’m allowing you to be a part of my household if you so wish. There will still be some monitoring, but you’re free to go most places from now on, providing that suits you.”

They…he wants me to stay?
Her cheeks heated. The rush of delight surprised her. But what about Dankyo? She glanced up. The speculative look on his face was far better than his grumpy one.

She nibbled one side of her lip. “Can I…we talk, alone?”

“Excellent idea. Dankyo, we’ll leave you and Sofia to get reacquainted.” The flat-eyed smile Theo gave her might have been taken as malevolent on another man. “Take care, Sofia. He’s not in a good mood. Even if he’s mostly cross with me, I would step quietly if I were you.”

The quiet grunt from Dankyo went unremarked, though with one fingertip wedged over her fingernail, he wiggled one of her fingers.

So, he’s wound up, is he?
Well, so was she. Treading quietly wasn’t on her list of things to do.

Theo stood, then guided Claire toward the door with a hand on her back

They were such a great couple. Whereas… She shot a muted glare at Dankyo. Despite his orders, at gut level, what he’d done seemed a betrayal of sorts. Surely he could have said
something
, before he left?

“Can I have my fingers back? Please.”

He grunted again and released the one he’d played with but hung on to her hand.

She struggled to contain her irritation. Wasn’t love supposed to transcend employer-employee relationships? Zigzag shuffled to his feet.

Theo opened the door. The quilt shifted as Zigzag rearranged himself, but she was busy observing how nice Theo was to Claire. Even if Theo had been a bit of an overbearing ogre with his orders, he was a gentlemanly ogre.

There was a muted
thud.

Oh God
. Zigzag was growling and wagging his tail, while looking over the edge of the bed. If anyone could ever look like they might explode, Dankyo was it. He hissed in through his teeth.

She looked past Zigzag. Her heaviest textbook was on the floor next to Dankyo’s boot. Served him right.

The door clicked shut.

Time for some questions. She’d always had courage, just needed to dredge for it more than some people. She met Dankyo’s eyes, noting the pain there, much like her own, perhaps, though in his case it might be partly to do with a book landing on his toes.

“Did that hurt?” she asked, striving but failing to keep out the satisfied tone.

“Yes. Move over.” Before she could respond, he’d picked up the sheet and quilt, slipped in beside her and pushed her over. Now she had the big lump looming above her, propped on one elbow. His brown eyes seemed lost for a moment, shifting with uncertainty.