Branded Possession (The Machinery of Desire Book 3)

by Cari Silverwood

  “Easily caught aren’t you?”

  Tongue-tied, she considered her predicament, how she was held.

  Ryke raised his hand and curled down her lower lip, then pushed two fingers between her lips. She opened, forgetting to protest his penetration. They slipped in and he left them lying on her tongue, heavy, bitter with the taste of skin. He might’ve touched a hundred things, a hundred people, have the atoms of god-knew-what on his hands and she didn’t care.

  His eyes were dark and still.

  “You like this.”

  She was forgetting far too much.

  “Say yes.”

  Fuck. Uncomfortable, shamed...yet being made to do was easier than being forced to admit to liking any of what he did in words. She stalled. If she ignored him, he might let this be.

  “Want me to strip you and make you come in public?”

  Her eyes flashed wider.

  More people streamed past. Some turned to look.

  “They aren’t used to slaves here,” he added softly. “Though I’m sure they won’t mind seeing you without clothes and told to stick your fingers into your cunt and get yourself off. I could do that and you’d obey.”

  Lies, surely lies.

  Confusing, but she ran that idea down. It was possible, considering...things.

  “Suck on my fingers.” He pulled her closer with the leash. “Speak then suck.”

  Such an invasion of her being, as intimate as sex. Somehow the effect of his fingers flattening her tongue and his taste in her mouth, it wound all the way to her belly and held her, made her want to obey.

  “Yes,” wandered out, whispered, slurred. She sucked, licked him even, wondering how it could be that this made her hot.

  She’d been too long on Aerthe. Far too long.

  Her pants dampened at the crotch, and she felt that intense livening that only happened when something sexual was done to her. His fingers slipped in and out, fucking her mouth and she wanted more but she couldn’t, wouldn’t say.

  The nice agreement held her. If she gave in, what would he do?

  “Say it again. I love hearing that word.”

  She blinked. If only he wasn’t lacking in manners and morals.

  Though the word was mangled by his fingers, she murmured another yes. He removed them and freed her wrists, then sat back, as calm and lethal as a snake in the hot sun. And oh boy, it was hot here.

  The leash lay draped over his thigh, a poignant reminder.

  Her mouth felt empty.

  She ran her tongue tip over her lips, conscious of how he studied her.

  “Happy?” For her, daring to say that was a compulsion as much as had been obeying him. She needed to snatch back something of herself.

  “Very. Until I heard that word. You’re taunting me?”

  She lost her bravery and stared at a spot to his left. “No.” The seat was less a challenge.

  “Good. You know how flexible my definition of nice can be. So tell me.” He cleared his throat. “How did you know that was going to happen?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t understand.” If she said nothing more he’d not believe her. “I had a vision. Saw it all happen. The light, the blast, people flying through the air.” She stopped. That was it.

  “If I believe you...” He rubbed his jaw, ran his splayed fingers down his neck and she couldn’t pry her eyes from that gesture. His next words were said softly. “Yeah, I don’t. I’d be gullible to do that based only on what you’ve said.”

  Fascinated by him, she moved forward, almost daring him to touch her. “I know. I don’t quite believe myself.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ryke reached out and stroked the side of her face. Half-smiling, he let his hand trail lower until they rested at the angle of her neck and shoulder. “Only one more question until Badh gets here. It’s a big one.”

  If that wasn’t ominous...

  “Why am I so fucking obsessed with you?”

  Puzzled, she shook her head.

  “There’s something wrong with this, and being in the Underdeck has made it worse.”

  She expected him to make a threat after that. Instead, his fingers dug into her breast and she winced, then...then he kissed her. Suicidal to say no, to push him away, though she thought it for all of one long second before the notion sank under the onslaught.

  The onrush of blood in her system, his teeth and tongue, his breath mingling roughly with hers, and his grip on her below, all of these washed away her words. She angled her mouth against his, until he fisted her hair and held her there too.

  “Be still,” he murmured. “Be still or else.”

  Ahhh, there was the threat.

  She clutched fruitlessly at his arm and the cloth shifted over his biceps. But she’d wanted that, wanted to feel his strength, to know how useless any protests would be.

  That was the key. The revelation. She saw it now. She loved being forced.

  “What are you doing to our psychic girl?”

  Badh.

  Still holding her hair, Ryke drew away, as if she were business he’d put on pause and he might go back to violating her mouth anytime soon. Panting, she surfaced, eyes half-closed.

  Badh vaulted the side of the hopper, swung his legs and slid in to sit beside her. “Finding out how she did it by kissing her? That’s new.”

  “You made it.” Ryke released her.

  He answered Badh’s smile with a shrug and leaned back, squashing the seat padding behind him. Though his long legs stayed between hers – or his feet did, and this seemed an obvious and very sexual position. It made Gio blush. Which was stupid. He’d done far worse.

  “Yes, I’m alive, thanks to her.”

  “She insists she doesn’t know how she knew that would happen. Casualties?”

  Should she say anything? The men were immersed in their conversation, ignoring her. It irked. She wasn’t stupid even if her reaction to Ryke was ridiculous. He was toxic. More than a bad boy, he was evil at times, or had been. Yes, he was right. He’d changed and if he didn’t know why...

  “One dead.” His mouth down-turned. “It’s why I’m late. A kid out trying his new wings got caught. He was straying but...” Badh sighed, staring at his right arm where the blue seemed brighter than before. “We dragged him out of the sea. That’s what kids do with a new pair of wings. Right?”

  “Yes.” Ryke’s nod and the softening of his facial lines surprised her. “It is.”

  The man faked sympathy well, unless this was genuine?

  “You went down yourself, didn’t you? Pulled him out...I see more blue.”

  “Yeah. What the fuck else was I to do?”

  Were those tears shining in his eyes? Badh didn’t wipe them away, maybe he thought it wasn’t noticeable, but it was.

  What was it he’d done? Ryke seemed angry, disgusted even.

  Her theory about the Engine Sea was correct. Exposure to it killed them.

  And Badh had just amped up his exposure to rescue a kid, dead or not.

  “I’m going to talk to her. When we get back. Okay?”

  She nodded, though neither man looked as if he needed her permission.

  Ryke grunted. Maybe he didn’t trust himself to talk.

  The hopper purred and coughed then slowly accelerated. They returned to the king’s residence.

  Chapter 24

  The journey back was the reverse of before. Now was apparently not the time for her to feel for a portal mage. She watched the men and listened. They said nothing of great consequence, though it colored the Underdeck for her – their stories of the past and of small recent events. The people had their own art and sport and attitudes, and seemed separate from those above, even if this place must be the foundation for everything Mekkers did.

  As they drew close to pass beneath a dappled red building shaft, one that soared up to the underside of the Above, she saw subtle artwork. A forest had been rendered on this one by etching the patched surface. Trees of silver dangled their leaves all down the h
eight of the metal. The branches were jagged, here and there, where panels joined. Even those defects helped make it what it was – truly beautiful.

  “The Uppers are ungrateful about all you do here,” she ventured, when they emerged from the final building shaft.

  The hopper’s wheels spun toward the farmland. Beyond the carpet of vegetation, the residence’s gold-and-ivory metal wall reached upward – shining at the base and merging into darkness above where the lights over the crop cast shadows. From here the red on that wall was reduced to insignificant trickles.

  Neither man bothered to reply to her question.

  Above the suspended lighting, the hanging layer of small houses was deserted again. The people bees were off working, she guessed. Really, the deckers were a caste of the Mekkers, and the lowest of the low. They produced the power that let the landship move, maybe much of the food also, and had nothing given back to them except a place to live in quarantine.

  That they didn’t resent this...it blew her mind.

  Then Ryke’s large hand covered hers where it lay on her lap, or more precisely where her thigh joined her body, inches from her clit, and she felt herself stir with arousal. So easily he did this to her. Her mind might function like a piece of clockwork, tick tick tick, but he...he was her Achilles heel...the wrench in her machinery.

  The tool, she almost grinned at that thought.

  Instead, she inhaled and slowly raised her focus, to end up in an eye-lock with the bastard.

  “What are you thinking?” He waited with his mouth twisting up. She amused him, as always.

  “I...was thinking about how much the Underdeck does. And stuff.” Telling him they were suckers might be unwise.

  “We are almost at the residence and we have a greeting party – Followers. Don’t be surprised at any of the garbage they say.”

  “I won’t.”

  He patted her hand.

  Having passed the last of the crop, the hopper ground to a halt, and yes, a crowd waited.

  “Want me to handle them?” Badh stood.

  “Please do.”

  He was so polite here, it made her want that – to see more of this part of him, even if he thought it wrong. Wait, maybe he’d always been polite to men? It was just her and his victims, or clients, that he trampled on.

  This crowd was perhaps only fifty or so men and women, but they weren’t parting to let them through.

  “What is it?” Badh walked to within a few feet of them. “There’s been an accident at the bow and I’d prefer to deal with your matter, whatever it is, later.”

  “We’ve heard already,” said a tall, bearded man. “It was screened, sent ahead of you. It’s her, being with the Prophet that we object to. A slave isn’t trustworthy. If she caused this –”

  “She didn’t.” Ryke went forward. Though a heavy man, he was as deliberate of step as a rhino walking on eggshells. He held out his hands. “I’ve heard you have swelled in numbers since I was last here. If I’m your prophet then don’t you think you should accept my wishes?”

  The man grumbled, shifted his feet but stayed put. “No.”

  “I want you to go, to respect my wish that she remain and not be bothered anymore. Okay?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck.” Ryke put his hands to the top of his head and scratched his scalp. “Badh? These are your people more than mine.”

  “They are? Brother you are so very wrong. Isn’t he?”

  Yes!” they chorused back.

  That seemed to bemuse Ryke and he silently appraised the crowd, left to right, then back again.

  He held out his hands. “Why? Why must you annoy me with this...this shit? I’m no prophet. I’m nothing except for the King’s Own Lawgiver. I don’t want to be a fucking prophet of yours!”

  When the silence merely grew and no one answered him, Badh clasped his shoulder. Gio stayed at the rear. She was a pawn here. None of them would listen to her.

  “You, brother, do not know of everything that is happening here. I meant to tell you at the bow, but...” Badh sighed. “We have a big problem. I will tell you more inside, but first. This.” He gestured at Gio and spoke to the Followers. “This slave. This woman. She is why we had only one dead at the bow. She warned us. I don’t know how she could tell it would happen but she did. She warned us. I repeat what Ryke said. Accept her. She is not a risk. Not a danger. Please. Do I really need to call a full assembly?”

  This time the bearded one turned to his fellows and they talked quietly for a few minutes before he turned back. “We will accept her for the meantime but insist she be watched for any signs.”

  “Of?” Badh cocked his head.

  “Being dangerous to the Underdeck or to the Prophet.”

  “I assure you,” Ryke drawled. “She’s more in danger from me than I am from her.”

  So fucking true.

  Some of them laughed.

  “Good.” The bearded one reached out with his hand and Ryke shook it. The man blushed red then slowly went to one knee. Most of the front line of the crowd also kneeled. “We await your guidance, sir.”

  At that Ryke shook his head and he backed until he could take Gio’s hand. “I have none. I respect your opinions, sirs and ladies, but I insist I am nothing. And I need my privacy. You can kneel all you like but it won’t change anything.”

  Now that was a lie, after he’d threatened to make her come in public.

  But they let them through and Ryke opened the door while Badh offered some placating comments, telling them that maybe his brother would come around.

  As if what they’d asked was reasonable. What did they expect from Ryke?

  It was all so puzzling, given what she knew of him. How could he be their prophet if he didn’t believe in what these Followers believed? Didn’t you have to make speeches and so on?

  With his hand on her back, she was the first down the hallway. She came to one of the big lounging rooms with the overly dramatic blood, sex, and war themes and was directed in. She sat on one of the long sofas with Ryke beside her. Badh hauled a chair closer. Not even a comfortable one, it was shiny, curled steel with the only padding being on the seat.

  “Why are you sitting on that?” Ryke scolded. “There’s a lot of good armchairs and sofas.”

  He waved a hand toward the rest of the room. A silver statue of a great bearlike creature stood over by a wall, growling at a duet of warriors with lances. The bear had two pairs of arms but otherwise, this could’ve been an Earth scene.

  “I’m tired. If I sit on one of those comfy chairs, I’ll get drowsy. Been up half the night. I told you, we have problems.”

  “Go on.”

  “We are suffering from power problems. Ever since the missile hit. Damage hasn’t been fixed. We lost part of that core you saw being worked on.”

  Ryke’s arm sneaked behind her and around her waist. He dragged her closer. She sighed and lowered her head, imagining herself wriggling away. It wouldn’t work.

  “We slowed, which means we have less raw materials. We lost men and they aren’t replaced, because you can’t replace what takes a generation to replace.”

  “I see. That is bad. I hadn’t heard this up top.”

  “No. This is why the Followers have gotten more fervent. We’d all love there to be a man who knows how to fix this.”

  With her forearms on her thighs, Gio listened and took in the details while weaving her fingers over and through each other. The pattern on her gray pants was a subtler art than the walls in here. She’d bet most Mekkers never saw anything this advanced in either art or cloth. Badh had confirmed what she’d guessed. The Mekkers were up creek minus paddle. Their tech was likely crashing too. Hundreds of years like this, was the rumor. Not feasible forever. This could be a turning point in their history.

  What was she doing though? She rather liked this arm around her yet she could feel the bruises he’d left. She was getting to be too stupid to live. There was a line, and she had definitely stepped ov
er it.

  “Badh has questions.” He jiggled her and she looked up. “Did you take notes?”

  Fuck. His terminology was so close to what she told herself that it rattled her. Besides, what had Badh asked?

  “Sorry?”

  “I asked how you knew the core was cracked and that it would fail when it did?” Badh did seem exhausted with his face barely showing expression.

  Pity rose in her chest. Again, TSTL. Why pity any Mekkers?

  “I just saw it.” She opened her hands. “In my mind. I thought at first that it must be imagination, but the more I waited, the more convinced I was that it would come true.”

  And...she should have told them it was her learning that let her see the crack. Then maybe they’d respect her more.

  “Maybe it was just an intuition based on knowledge.”

  “As in you saw the crack and figured it out?” Badh eyed her from beneath his brows.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I don’t know how you did it. I think what counts is that you told us. That’s important to me.”

  “Oh. I see.” She did. He was saying he sort of trusted her. “Thank you.”

  Badh grunted. “Thank you.”

  “Will either of you explain what these Followers are?” She glanced aside at Ryke and he grimaced.

  “I’m not sure you need to know this.”

  “Why not? Everyone else here does. Tell her. She seems sympathetic to us.”

  He puffed out his cheeks, glared a little at Badh then at her. “Let me try. If I miss anything, Badh can say. When we were only children, our parents were lost to the outside after an attack by Scavs. They breached the hull somehow. It was hushed up. As far as I know, all the Scav raiding party was killed. So, I...we, thought they were dead. Nearly a year later, my mother was picked up by a patrol and returned to the ship. We found out my father had died but she was lucky enough to be taken in by a family of grounders. They cared for her until she was well, then she managed to bluff her way across the land, guess where we’d be, and meet us.”