Geared for Pleasure

by Rachel Grace

  The desk was small but intricately carved. Wood inlaid with solid ivory… or bone. The design etched into the inlay depicted the Deviant, its sails unfurled. On either side of the carving was a symbol she recalled seeing etched into the dragonfly’s metallic skin—a different kind of insect, round with wings folded against its body.

  Bodhan’s leather wrist brace sat on top, still glowing with a telling pulse.

  Neither object belonged in this stark, barren room. “You sleep here?”

  The captain sat on top of her desk, obscuring Dare’s view, and startling her once again with her youthful beauty and shimmering long dark hair. She lifted one shoulder absently. “Like a newborn, if we are sharing personal habits. This is where I come to relax. Where I think when things refuse to add up.” She reached behind her and lifted a two-sided dagger off the wall without looking to ensure she would not be cut. It was of a design Dare did not recognize, the markings on it indistinguishable from this distance.

  Captain Amaranthe began to twirl it with dexterous fingers, and Dare could feel the action soothe her. “You and Bodhan, for example. Phina shared how you came to be in his bottom-feeding Siren against your will. From your reaction when we met, I know that you received word to find your way to me, just as I was told to expect you.”

  Dare held her breath, attempting to keep her mind trained on the captain’s words and not her intimidating actions. Though handling the blade continued to calm her, it was having the exact opposite effect on Dare’s peace of mind. “Speak your mind, if you please. I was told to trust you, but I do not follow orders without cause. What you said earlier… how did you know of my birthmark?”

  Captain Amaranthe smiled and Dare exhaled in admiration. It was a radiant transformation that intensified the flecks of gold and green in her eyes. Disarming. “I like you, Blue. I admit I would have more respect for you had you not bedded a man who trades women with the ease that a herder trades threehorns—but I’m sure you had your reasons. Seraphina always does.”

  She stood, tossing the dagger behind her shoulder where it embedded itself in the wall beside its original hook. “The Wode are not exactly my allies. Even half-breeds could work for my enemies. The Khepri told me your birthmark would be an unmistakable sign that you could be trusted. Simple as that.”

  Truth. Dare could sense it. The captain, for all her posturing, was not attempting to deceive her.

  But nothing was that simple. Dare still had no idea how this “Khepri,” whoever he was, had known about it at all. But it was obvious that the captain had other things on her mind. “I have it on unquestionable authority that Bodhan is keeping a secret he is not sharing with us. Knowing his reputation, more than one. I thought it was an object, a recording, or an incriminating parchment. Phina was sent in to retrieve it, but she could find nothing that related to…”

  Dare had the strangest sensation of falling. She had to know. “Related to what?”

  “To whom. To the queen we both serve.” Captain Amaranthe sent her a pitying look. “If there is a potential threat, you and I are the people who root it out, regardless of our personal feelings. But you know that, else we would not have been brought together by our mutual friend.”

  “Mutual friend?”

  “The Khepri. The person whose message brought you to me. We are supposed to help each other. Trust each other.” She reached out to grasp Dare’s arm. “You can start by advising your lover that his life depends on his honesty. Our association has been beneficial to both of us until now, but I need to ensure that no one has the chance to endanger the queen. Not even the infamous Bodhan.”

  Dare wanted to drop where she stood and say, “No more.” Up was not down. Night was not day. A moon had not fallen from the sky, leaving only one in its place.

  The captain, this woman who shot her men down without regret, who employed deception with ease and countenanced thievery, was a loyal defender of the throne. She believed her words with the force of a sword’s blow, Dare could sense it, but she was wrong.

  The plot Captain Amaranthe was rushing to quell had already been set in motion. She could not know who or what Dare was. Did not know what she knew.

  This messenger, this Khepri, must not have told Captain Amaranthe the whole truth. The truth he’d known and proven to Dare. Why? Did he not trust her completely, or did he intend to let Dare reveal it?

  The captain’s facts were wrong, but the danger was very real. And information was something there was no doubt they needed more of.

  Bodhan. At every turn, she wanted to trust him, decided to trust him, only to be confronted by another doubt. Another whisper. Whether he was aware of it or not, he must know something. With all the powerful highborns who congregated inside his Siren, he must.

  She had no choice but to discover, once and for all, which side he was on. As a woman, she prayed it was the right one, for the sake of her heart. As the Chalice she wished the same, for the sake of her queen.

  Dare took the captain’s hand off her arm politely, allowing her to see the resolution in her gaze. “Let me speak to him alone.”

  She watched the silent mountain of a first mate use a key that seemed too small for his fingers to open the bolted lock on the outside of the door. While he did she studied him in silence.

  Unlike the rest of the people on the Deviant, she had not heard him speak once. She wondered if he was capable. Even his name, Freeman, was unusual, but everyone had aliases, so that told her nothing of value. Neither did his clothing or features.

  He wore a roughly textured long-sleeved shirt the color of parchment and simple brown pants and boots. There was no weapon holstered to his side or thigh. His size indicated that anything he wore would have to be made especially for him, so that was telling in itself. He chose to downplay his more intimidating attributes.

  His face was as hard as the rest of him. Not unattractive—quite the opposite, in fact—just unbending. It struck her that he was far more beautiful than he seemed. A golden statue of an angry old god. Yet something about him, something Dare could not quite put her finger on, seemed kind. His emotions were serene. At the moment. If what she’d sensed from him whenever he was near Captain Amaranthe was any indication, there was much more to him than he wanted to be revealed.

  More secrets.

  Freeman’s enigmatic countenance was, perhaps, a wise strategy considering the woman he worked for. The blade-loving captain closed herself off for a reason. The emotions she betrayed felt tumultuous. Dangerous.

  Another complicated character. Dare sighed. Was it wrong to long for someone, anyone, who was exactly what they appeared to be?

  As Freeman turned the door’s handle she steeled her spine. Knowing what she thought qualified as personal quarters, Dare could only imagine the type of accommodations the captain believed a prisoner deserved.

  Though to be fair, the room she’d been told she could sleep in was near as decorative and lush as the ones on the Siren. It seemed Captain Amaranthe did understand the difference between others’ preferences and her own. She simply chose to embrace a rougher style of life.

  When the door opened, she kept her head down, staring at the tray of food she’d brought from the galley. It might not be his usual fare, but the hank of charred meat and grilled marsh onions were all he would be allowed until he was freed. It would nourish him, regardless of its taste.

  “Sir? Could you bring in the basin and cot, please?” Dare watched Freeman nod and step outside, coming back with a familiar-looking basin resting on a pedestal in one hand, and a long uncomfortable-looking cot in the other.

  She went to the window across from the door and set the tray down on a wide ledge, along with several drying cloths. Freeman stood the copper basin beside her, and Dare searched for the turnkey, grateful to have something to focus on aside from the man she had come to see.

  As she manually wound the simple device, she heard the soothing whir of the gears turning. At last, something familiar. The deep copper bowl wa
s topped by a pitcher of the same material, connected with slender conductive rods. The water began to flow from the pitcher to the bowl and back again, and Dare knew it would warm quickly, and stay warm as long as it the gears turned.

  The Wode used these in the barracks, and on exploratory campaigns into more forbidden areas when luxuries were scarce.

  She heard the scrape against the floor and the jangle of metal behind her that told her Freeman had placed the cot into position against the wall and loosened the length of Bodhan’s chain. When she’d been told he was chained to the wall she had insisted he be given the basic comforts. She told the captain it would help her attain their mutual goal.

  It was a well-reasoned argument. She saw no need for anyone to know her personal emotions had more to do with her demands than logic. She refused to watch Bodhan suffer. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.

  Freeman left, closing but not locking the door behind him. Dare glanced back out the window, noticing a flock of birds, their violet and burgundy wings spread wide, soaking in the rays of the setting sun as they shared the air with the Deviant. It was a beautiful sight.

  Still, taking everything into consideration, she would have preferred to see it from the ground.

  “I remember seeing the partial plans for the Deviant years ago. I can’t say I believed it would ever get airborne. I’m impressed.” Bodhan groaned and she heard the chains rattle again. “I have a sneaking suspicion that I needn’t have worried about your well-being. You seem to have adapted rather quickly. Unless I was wrong about your ability as a spy?”

  Dare bit her lip. His tone was mocking, but with no true venom behind it. “You were unconscious and your pistol was aimed at my head. Should I apologize for not being chained beside you? I don’t believe you’re in any danger. If I did—”

  “Dare.” His voice compelled her to turn around, and when she did her heart dropped. Her relief at seeing him unmarked by one of Captain Amaranthe’s sharp objects was tempered by the sight of him bound to the wall.

  He’d relaxed his shoulders, slowly sitting down on the cot she’d brought for him. A small groan of relief escaped from between his lips. He glanced past her toward the window, squinting at the light. “I never believed you responsible for this. And you are correct, I am in no danger. Not from Captain Amaranthe, despite her threats. My hunger is the only excuse I can muster for my rudeness. Is this a new form of torture, or am I allowed to eat what’s on that tray?”

  “Oh.” She turned and swiftly grabbed the food, walking across the room and delivering it to his waiting hands. They were still restrained, but he had enough freedom of motion to eat on his own.

  He lifted the meat to his lips, chewing for long moments before grimacing as he swallowed. “It is torture. One bite and I’m exhausted. And marsh onions? Insult on top of injury. You’d think she could hire a cook with all the loot at her disposal.”

  “Do you know Captain Amaranthe well?” How well? Had all the vitriol the captain had spewed about Bodhan been based on romantic history instead of a general dislike of his profession? She was a beautiful, if frightening, woman.

  Bodhan looked up at her and she sensed his astonishment. His wariness. He was not as unaffected as he pretended to be. “Didn’t she tell you? I’m surprised. How can you be expected to gather information without any of your own? Did she tell you, at the very least, what it is she thinks I have in my possession that is worth all this? That way, if I have the answers she seeks, I can offer them. Alas, logic doesn’t seem to be her strength, does it, princess? I’m sure she’s just trying to let me know her sword is bigger than mine.” He winked. “That is how we criminals play this game after all. Not that a shield guard from Queen’s Hill would know that.”

  Oh yes. He was upset. And he knew. At least, knew she was Wode. Despite her size and lack of marking, despite her denials, he knew.

  It no longer mattered.

  She moved to the basin and dipped one of the towels in the now-warm water. Her heart raced as she wrung the fabric out. Because of his nearness or the circumstances? She already knew the answer. Both. Hearing his voice, looking into his eyes, reminded her body of the last time they were together. What he had done to her. What she’d wanted him to do again.

  “Did the poor rag offend you? Whatever its crimes, I don’t think it deserves to be strangled. This meat on the other hand…”

  His dry wit was oddly soothing, propelling her back to his side. She knelt hesitantly on the cot beside him. His body was dusted with dirt and sweat, no doubt from being wrapped in a rug and hauled about like a bag of lifeless goods. And who, other than Phina, could know what those drugging darts had done to him?

  Dare inhaled. Strange. His scent had only become more compelling. More arousing than it had been before. How was that possible? Her cloth-covered hand cupped his shoulder and his movements stilled.

  He licked his lower lip clean and spoke softly. “As much as I would wish you were doing this solely out of concern for my care, I can’t help but feel you are still keeping something from me.”

  She studied the shimmer of his lip, absently stroking his neck and back with the wet cloth. “I am.” She swallowed, knowing she had to give something to get in return. “In the lift, before you—what I mean is that I saw Phina in your room, but I kept it from you.”

  He was expressionless. “Because you were helping her by keeping me distracted?”

  Dare knew she had to tread carefully. “Before I was taken by Lucy Thrice I received a message to trust no one but the captain of the Deviant. A captain I did not know and a ship I believed to be sea-bound.”

  “And the message?” His voice was lower, rougher, and she realized he had set down his tray, his hands clenched in fists as she washed the sides of his ribs, his chest.

  Why did she feel so breathless? “It was stamped with a trusted seal.”

  Bodhan exhaled on a shaky sigh. “A seal I know well. Cryptic bastard couldn’t take into account you might be confused. Or you might end up with me instead of Amaranthe. And now he has her convinced that I’m being stingy with something she needs.”

  “He?”

  Bodhan leaned his head against the wall. “He is our connection, princess. The captain’s and mine. Or I should say, the Khepri is,” he muttered, almost as though he were speaking to himself. “What game is he playing at? He knows how rabidly she fulfills her duty. It’s an admirable quality, until you find yourself in chains.”

  The knowledge that he, too, knew this Khepri, that he’d been in communication with him, was an important piece of the puzzle she was forming in her mind. Though not apparently enough of a revelation for her to stop touching him. She was not sure she could. It was getting harder to concentrate, but she had to. This was too important.

  “I was told to trust her, but I want to trust you as well, Bodhan. I have trusted you.” His jaw clenched at the reference and she shivered with memory, determined to continue before she lost her reason entirely. “The captain was told you have something, some information on a plot against the throne. I believed you when you spoke of your love for our queen, and it’s one we share. If you tell the captain what you know, she promised to give you safe passage back to the Siren.”

  His chains clanked against each other as he reached for her, pulling her close until she lost her balance. Her breasts pressed against his chest. “There is always a plot against the queen. The ministry, the nobles. The more they drink, the more they plot. Most merely fantasize, taking their frustrations out in other ways. Ways I allow them for a fee. Any more than that I share with the lovely captain through our mutual friend. What she does with the information after that I leave to your imagination.” His thick lashes fluttered down until his eyes were nearly shielded, and he tightened his grip on her. “You are going to have to give me more, Dare. You haven’t even told me whether or not I’m right. You are Wode, and yet, you’re not. Is your name even Dare?”

  “Yes, I’m Wode.” She had no more br
eath to answer, to tell him all of it. That she’d had no knowledge of the Khepri. That she’d had no idea that all this lay outside of the gates of Queen’s Hill. She could not speak, but she could feel his breath against her lips. Perhaps relief had stolen her air.

  There had been no fear in him at being found out. No panic or anger. All she felt inside him was righteous frustration and increasing desire. It convinced her that trusting him as much as she had was the correct decision.

  And that he still wanted her.

  She parted her lips to answer him, trying desperately to remember the question, to ask more of her own, when his mouth took away her ability to speak entirely.

  Yes. Her body curled into his, knowing what it wanted, recalling what he could do to her. She felt him attempt to lower her to the cot beneath them but he stopped with a jerk, swearing against her mouth. The chain’s length had hindered him, reminding them both of their current situation.

  Dare did not want to be reminded. Not yet. She pressed her hands against his chest and used her strength to push him back against the wall, her lips opening more aggressively over his.

  His approval was clear in his low growl, and elation filled her that she could have this sway over him. She had no true skills at seduction, nor Phina’s unique pheromones. All she had was desire. But she hadn’t lied to him. She learned quickly.

  She slid her mouth away from his and opened it against his neck, her tongue instinctively testing the flavor of his skin. Salt and heat. As earthy, dark, and alluring as his scent.

  She recalled once more the effect Coral had on her noble and guard when she’d kissed their skin. The sound Bodhan had made when she’d asked if he would like to be kissed in that way. Could she bring that type of pleasure to him now?

  Dare peppered soft, gentle kisses along his collarbone, stopping to investigate the base of his throat where she could feel the rapid pulse that matched her own. His need matched hers as well, but he hadn’t moved since she started her exploration. Hadn’t told her to stop.