Kaysana swept a lock of hair from her eyes. “Perhaps we can help you, but we need your airship to reach Perihelion. Also there may be information here that can aid us.”
“To Perihelion?” His eyebrows rose. His brow wrinkled. Something in his dark gaze spoke of hidden knowledge. “What information?”
She took a breath. Once, she would have been ashamed to reveal who she was while accompanying Sten. “I’m a GAM officer. You must have noticed the strange happenings?” He nodded. “Perihelion is the cause. I’ve been informed this was a secondary base, and the cure or a way to destroy the plague is here.
“We’re going to Perihelion, to fix what’s going wrong. If this isn’t done, the world will suffer.”
Quietly, yet loud enough for his rumbling voice to carry, Sten added, “Armageddon. Proliferation of zombies—that sort of crap.”
“They were asking for trouble with that experiment.” Dr. F. clicked his tongue. “I’m not keen on putting my life on the line. But information?” He shrugged. “There is nothing here. There is no cure, no grand and sure way of stopping this plague.”
Nothing? Fear stirred. This place was supposed to hold the answer.
“Please. Help us, Doctor.” Kaysana flicked on the safety and shoved her gun in the holster, stood there at ease with her hands clasped. No use prodding and hurrying the man. Panic him and he’d duck for cover. “We need your ship, sir. We need any data that may be stored here.”
“Yes, I understand. I understand that you think some miracle answer is here. But trust me. There is nothing! If it were that simple, it would have been done by now.
“I also understand that things are going to pot. Why do you think I’ve been here, hiding in the basement? When things looked iffy up there, I left. Just unfortunate the plague spread so fast.”
Kaysana hooked her thumbs in her belt. How could he be so sure? “Doctor. We are the solution.”
“Well, yes, so I gathered. Might I also add that I’ve seen women being dragged past here. Most of the zombies are men, and it appears they're targeting the few women who are left.”
Sten grumbled. “Damn. And how many of the weird ripples do you get here, Doctor?”
“Ripples?” His brow corrugated. “Look, you may borrow my airship, you may pick my brain for information, but I shall have to accompany you if you take my ship.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Why? I don’t trust you to bring it back. I’ve yet to see a zombie that could fly, and I can remain in the ship while others sally forth. However, you and the young lady”—he inclined his chin toward Emily—“should consider staying here.”
“Excuse me”—Emily dragged a suitcase to where Cadrach sprawled, watching the snake’s tail tip. She sat with her hands on her knees. “I’ve had a hard day driving. But I’ll say this—I’m going with them. The captain will go, and I won't stay by myself.”
“Staying here alone?” He shuddered, fingering his goatee. “The swarms of zombies going past are unsettling. It’s why I’ll take the cases up the stairs instead of landing the ship outside the wall.” He stood. “I’ll be taking off at dawn tomorrow. Why don’t we discuss the details at dinner? After we load my cases.”
What are the odds of him trying to go without us if we get his equipment aboard? She couldn’t decide. Emily looked exhausted, though. The toll from seeing the killings on the rooftop might finally be hitting her.
We can’t walk across the mountain.
Sten spoke up while she was still deciding. “Sure, we’ll do that, Doctor.”
Chapter Fourteen
Carrying the cases up six flights of stairs was easy for Sten. He could have done it in half the time but chose to go up with only one case on the first trip while he followed the doctor. Ever since Dr. F. had announced he’d helped create frankenstructs, questions had simmered up. Zen helped him keep a handle on his emotions, but he still needed to know about his past.
After that one trip, however, Dr. F. begged off.
“Place the cases here.” He pointed at the back bulkhead of his airship, the Emshalley.
“Right.” Sten lowered the steel case to the timber floor with a thump. “Gotcha. I’ll strap them down after they’re stacked.”
The command cabin was no more than four by four yards, and with suitcases along the back wall, any swinging of cats would have to be done somewhere else. At the opposite wall was the long, polished arc of the timber flight panel with the altimeters and velocimeters, the steering column and air pressure gauges. A wide yet narrow armored glass window looked out over the rooftop. Brass inlaid the panel and encircled the gauges. The rest of the cabin, though… Sten raised his eyebrows. A painting of the Dalai Lama was riveted to one wall, and the rainbow color scheme from the monastery was here too.
“Where’d you get the ship?”
“It belonged to the monastery. The monks donated it to the PME when they left.”
“Donated?” More like the PME evicted them and claimed it. He didn’t push the point. Need the doctor on my side, to get answers. “No weapons, then?”
“No. None on board. I don’t especially like guns.” Dr. F. pulled down his waistcoat.
“Tell me, Doc, where’d the others go? This place must have had more people?”
The doctor studied him. “Most evacuated earlier. I stayed behind with four others at the last moment, afraid of what might happen on a large airship if the virogen hit.”
“Ah-huh. So where are the other four?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a cautious man. I watched and waited. Stayed down in the shielded basement mostly.” His mouth twisted. “I came up and shot those who became zombies.”
Who’d’a thought? The man looked as tough as a daisy. “You did right.”
“Thank you. I will never forget seeing my colleagues become mindless things.” He shuddered. “Ahem. Dinner will be served up here on the roof in an hour—before the light goes. The steam generator is almost out of fuel, and I’ll be recharging my legs and Clavis before we take off.” He lifted his trouser cuff enough to show a shiny metal joint in the gap between sock and trouser.
“Clockwork?”
The doctor put his foot down, stomped a few times as if seating something into place, then shrugged. “Clockwork in emergencies. I use a voltaic battery for everyday use.” He walked to the boarding ladder. “Dinner will be informal.”
With the doctor gone, Sten took a moment to recheck the cabin. A hole showed in the center of the flight panel. He traced his finger around the brass-framed cavity that dived into the guts of the panel. “I’ll betcha this craft won’t go without whatever fits here.” The doctor was crafty. Some sort of machinery was missing.
Dinner on the circular rooftop meant sitting around a bonfire on wooden boxes covered with embroidered rugs, roasting skewered meat, and drinking warm champagne. Beyond a few yards out, the flickering light gave way to blackness. The tamped-down earth underfoot was common hereabouts for a roof.
“Vintage stuff.” The doctor waved his glass and skewer like a wild conductor, splashing wine into the fire and sending up a hissing puff of ash and flame. “Drink, eat, be merry, for tomorrow we fly. Hic.”
Sten dubiously eyed his skewer. Unknown meat. Kaysana was already chewing off a piece. She grinned, then sipped her wine, and he smiled back. That she’d sat down on the crate next to him pleased him so much.
He nibbled. Not chicken… Damn well better not be human. “Rabbit?”
“Hare. Not my pet, though—course. Would never never do that!”
“Eat up, Sten.” Kaysana leaned in. “This might be our last meal for a while.”
“Are you tipsy?”
She sighed. “No. I’m not. I’m air fleet, Sten, through and through. No matter how much what we might do scares the crap out of me, I won’t be getting drunk.”
Sten nodded. “Good.” He looked around. The doctor was busy poking the fire with what looked to be an antique sword, but he ignored the sacril
ege. The clockwork python lay coiled at Dr. F.’s feet, and Emily… Sten blinked. Emily lay against Cadrach’s stomach, scratching his ears and feeding him meat while murmuring something. His wolf was turning into a pussy.
He lowered his voice. “So what scares the crap out of you?” He stared into Kaysana’s eyes, those beautiful amber eyes that reflected gold and yellow from the fire’s light. “Us making love?”
This time her swallow was a nervous one. He could’ve smiled then but stayed serious, kept his mouth quiet, letting her think. She didn’t look away, and to test her response, he placed his palm on her thigh. At the feel of her skin, his cock stirred. He glided his hand a few inches over the smooth, womanly curve—so warm, strong from regular exercise, and his fingers were only inches from the top of her legs, and he sure knew what lay there. Lovely.
The skewer in her hand wobbled. “Oops!” She grabbed it tighter to stop it tumbling from her hand. “No, I’m not scared of…making love with you.” She briefly squeezed her eyes shut. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
“No? I have, though—hurt you—a little. Remember?”
“Hmm.” Despite the gloom, he was sure she blushed. “That was, well, I guess I wanted it. I-I’ve figured that out.”
God, he loved seeing her stammer from embarrassment.
“You know, I’m figuring things out too,” he said softly. With his skewer held in his teeth for a moment, he pulled their two boxes together. The timber of her box screeched as it dragged. “Come here.”
Kaysana gave one deep exhale before shifting over until their bodies touched, and curling in under his arm. He kissed above her ear. “This is so right, woman. Like we should be doing this every night.” She sighed again, snuggled even closer, put her arm around his back. That she couldn’t reach past his opposite hip made him smile. She was small. Yet they fitted together so well.
“I know what you mean, Sten, I do. But it can’t be.” She sniffed. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company, hey?”
“Okay. For now.” He was going to sort this out. Surely she had to see they needed each other?
Time passed. The moon rose and hung like a blue-white battered plate a hand span above the horizon. The fire burned low, and the doctor got drunker. For once Sten’s courage failed him. He needed to ask his questions but couldn’t. Kaysana half lay across his lap, staring at the embers, and he calmed himself by stroking her lustrous hair. The jittery feeling in his stomach made him want to puke.
The doctor stood unsteadily, a bottle swinging in his hand. “I’m off to have a snooze. Wake me at dawn, won’t you, sir?”
Behind him, the door leading below clicked shut, and Emily approached.
“Wait, Doctor.” Sten threw his skewer into the fire pit. The packed earth on the roof had come in useful. Least the building wouldn’t burn down. “I have a question to ask.”
“You do?” Blearily he dragged his hand down his face. “Oh! Course. You want to know about your past?”
The man had him figured. Fuck, he hated being predictable, but he guessed it was obvious. “Yes.”
“Wait. Too drunk. Some of that info was in the reserve files… I was in on the experiments up there, you know? Even when Jurgland accidentally swallowed a teensy dose of the virogen. Went all glowy. Ish the reason I quit, ya know? They took all those files.” He swept his arm in an exaggerated arc. “The people who went earlier. Ya know? Chickens! All of ’em.”
“You sure of that, Doc?” Emily tapped his shoulder and, when he swung to face her, planted her feet and folded her arms. “’Cause I checked below and found this lovely room full of filing cabinets. I had to pick the lock, but seeing it said File Room, I figured it was worth it.”
“Wha? You did? They’re all…all empty.”
“No. They are not.”
Sten grinned at the sight of the little woman confronting the doctor. Fuck. She’d picked the lock?
“What have you found, Emily?” Kaysana leaned forward.
“Loads of full filing cabinets, ma’am. I shook them. The locks are harder to open, though, than the door’s. A librarian can sniff out books and stuff, you know, Doc. You”—she prodded his chest—“are lying!”
Whoa, remind himself never to get between Emily and books.
“Is that true, Doctor? I told you we needed those files.” Kaysana’s voice rose.
Before she could stand, Sten yanked her back by the waist. “Cough it up, Doc, before the ladies shred you.”
“Ish…ish. Oh hang it! Here!” Swaying, he searched the pockets of his frock coat. A silver fob watch tumbled from the coat and swung, glinting, from a chain. “Ah! I was just trying to save wasting time. There ish no miracle cure. It’s a virus. Incin…incinerate it. Starve it of nutrients! Do that and it will die out. The hard part is getting close.” He handed Sten an envelope. “The key. One story down. An’ my notes about you are on the table. Ya know, frankenstructs.”
Kaysana murmured, “If we can fit them in, I want everything loaded aboard. There’s always a chance we will find something worthwhile.”
“Of course.” He wanted to grab the doctor and shake him until his teeth rattled and he answered in greater detail, but it was pointless. Instead he let the man stumble over to where some mattresses were laid out on the roof. Luckily the parapet went up pretty high. The man wasn’t going to fall over.
“Thanks, Emily,” said Kaysana. “Well done. Go finish your meal. We’ll sort this out.”
“My pleasure. Knew he was being suspicious.” She smiled, saluted, then trotted over to where Cadrach lay.
Kaysana angled her head to peer up at him. “You good?”
“Sure.”
“I can imagine how much you want to look at those files. Me too. Looks like we have a heavy night of reading and toting them into the ship.” She poked him in the ribs. “Okay?”
He studied her. Did everyone see through him like this? “We’ll go together. But not yet.” Right now was special. Fuck, tomorrow they might die. The idea screwed into him, sharp and nasty.
“No?” Already he could see her relaxing, cuddling in closer. She knew as much about war and violence as he did. You took your moments of peace and held them tight. “Sounds good.”
“Sometimes your head thinks like it should. Sit here with me and enjoy the night.”
“Hmph.”
But…still, he couldn’t help thinking.
Sten clutched the envelope, half crushing it. Kaysana settled back down with her head in his lap.
Do I want her to know what’s said about frankenstructs? Or to know the terrible things done to us or that we have done to others?
The unfairness of his past struck him like a blow. Rocked by the unexpected, the world around him blurred. The crackling soared to life in his head, then tripped into a rhythmic pain.
No!
Calm. To a slow count of ten, he took himself down from the near-peak of rage, until his thoughts washed in the ankle-deep waters of peace.
Damn. Haven’t been caught like that for ages.
He looked down at her, then let himself slip into a light trance, calming the flurries of anxiety. As if a scale had tipped from one extreme to the other, desire flared. He tucked away the envelope, then leaned over and drew a slow, spiraling line inside the whorls of her ear. The burbling sigh that came from deep in her throat made him smile.
He’d never seen her like this before—willingly coming to him. Not that he’d ever been a man to drag a woman away by her hair…not until Kaysana. Yet he accepted that this was part of his desires, deep down where he’d never before gone.
Tomorrow was a time for worry and world-altering events. Tonight was for love.
Chapter Fifteen
Kaysana turned on Sten’s lap and gazed up at him. The firelight made the creases and ridges of his face seem hard and frightening until his mouth twisted in a smile. How could she resist that invitation? She stretched up and played with the curves of his lips—then he opened and sucked in her fin
ger. The snug, moist depth of his mouth echoed inside her, and she lowered her eyelids to savor the build of tension, squeezing her thighs together, imagining his mouth on her.
“Can I have my finger back?” she whispered.
Instead he delicately sank in his teeth, then sucked on her again. A weak groan broke from her mouth. Yet if he’d released her, she’d have been disappointed.
As if he saw her thoughts in her eyes, he nipped once more before reaching up and taking her hand away, gently placing it by her side. But she didn’t desire gentle. Not from Sten.
One finger slipped under her chin, then traced the long line of her jaw. “What do you want, Kaysana?”
He knew. How close she was. To giving in.
She swiveled and got her legs down, feet on the floor, then considered him, her face half turned away, observing this man, her master on so many occasions, from the corners of her eyes. Can I do this? This isn’t the virus talking, this is me.
Before she could answer herself, she slipped to her knees before him on the bare earth. Then blinked up at him, stuck in limbo. She licked her lips and dug the words from her throat.
“Once only.” Swallowed. “Never again.”
She’d do it just this once, because her heart cried out for it.
If the world had crumbled, it seemed as if Sten would have ignored it. He studied her for a long time with narrow and intent eyes.
“Once. You’re giving me your body but not your soul, Kaysana. I want both.”
“What? I—” That prospect scared the hell out of her.
“Once and then you run away?” He planted his palms on his thighs. The sadness in his craggy face shocked her. Big, rugged, like a caveman come to life…but he wanted more from her? “You don’t share your fears with me.”
No. Not that. She sat back on her heels, dumbstruck.
“Maybe”—he tilted his head—“sometime soon?”
She could say this. It didn’t commit her, not really. “Maybe.”
“Uh-huh. A wobbly ass maybe. I’ll take that for starters.” He bent over and said, each word clear as ice and cutting into her like a knife. “If you trust me, give me your wrists.”
Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles) Page 13
