Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1)

by Meredith Rose

  “Well I certainly don’t think of you as my brother.”

  “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

  “Because that’s what you said—the night we role-played the Peacock abducting Delphine. You…” I swallowed hard, remembering how he had held me and how, since then, I’d started wanting so much more. “You called me ‘little sister.’ In Cymric.”

  “What was I supposed to say?” He pushed off the wall, his face dark and anguished. “You were terrified of me. Was I supposed to tell you how I lay awake at night, imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you? How I’d like to stand you in front of a mirror so I can look in your eyes while I unlace your corset and—”

  “Stop.” I put my hands over my head, trying not to dry heave in the alley. I breathed deeply, forcing the nausea away. “You can’t say things like that!”

  “Why? Because I’m a presul and you’re a vicimorph? Or because you’re an apprentice and I’m your director? Believe me, I remind myself of that all the bloody time. But even beyond that, I can’t tell you those things because you are scared to death of me. And it kills me.”

  It killed him? I was the one trying to recover from three years of unspeakable horrors. “That’s not my problem. I’m doing the best I can to move on with my life. I’m sorry if my personal issues hurt your feelings or interfere with your fantasies, but I didn’t ask you to care about me or be attracted to me.”

  He approached me now, slowly but insistently. “But it doesn’t go just one way, does it, cariad? You don’t think I notice you watching me? You think I don’t feel how you respond to me? I do feel it. And then I feel you shrink away like I’m some kind of monster. So if you’re upset about mixed signals, you should know you’re sending a lot of your own, too.”

  “So what do you want from me?” I asked again.

  He stood a hand’s length away from me, his eyes beautiful and sad and lit with desire. “I want you to heal. I want to find a way to put you back together so that you’re truly free. I want to find that fucking bastard who broke you and make him suffer every single horror that he forced on you, and then I want to run him through with the sharpest blade I own.”

  His words made me tremble and my pulse race. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or hope or desire. He lifted his hand and touched my cheek. I shuddered.

  “I want to be able to touch you without you recoiling.” He dropped his hand to his side.

  “What if all those things happen, and I end up falling for someone else?” I looked up at him, determined not to show fear. “What if I break your heart? Would you still want all of it?”

  I couldn’t read his expression.

  “I would want it all. You deserve to experience love, Minx. I want that for you.”

  I could barely breathe. He barely knew me. He didn’t realize yet that I wasn’t the sort of girl a chap could…

  Could love.

  Heat radiated through me. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—think about that right now.

  “I’m sorry for confusing you. I know I should keep my distance. When I was assigned to work with you and Delphine on this Peacock mess, I about hacked my best fencing foil to bits on the stone wall in the courtyard at the theater. It distresses me to know I make you uncomfortable.”

  “So you really do fence?”

  “Yes.”

  “You…don’t always make me uncomfortable, Dietrich.” I winced. “At least, not in a bad way.”

  His eyes shuttered, and he gave me a steamy half-smile. “I know.” Then he glanced around, spotting the crates I’d used as a dressing table earlier in the week. He sat on one, facing me. “Come here.”

  I shuffled forward, not sure what he intended.

  He put his hands on his knees, tilting his face up toward me. “Since you can’t handle me touching you, I want you to touch me instead.”

  I inhaled. “What?”

  “Touch me.” His eyes held steady with mine. “However you like. My hands won’t move.” He raised one eyebrow in a sort of challenge.

  I almost laughed. I should have just played Thumb Scuffle with him. I really should have.

  But his magical eyes stared up at me, and I couldn’t ignore how gorgeous he looked in the hazy, dim light. The most powerful presul of my generation, offering himself like a present—on my terms, in my control.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted my hand. It shook a little. My fingers touched a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. It glistened with the mist that hung in the air, and a droplet of water hung off the end. It fell, running down the damp skin of his forehead.

  I didn’t feel sick. I didn’t feel the crippling panic. Bolder now, I slid both hands into his hair, pushing his head back. His eyes closed, his face relaxed in pleasure. I could see the pulse point beneath his jaw. I touched it, the skin almost hot beneath my fingers. An echoing heat built in me as well.

  I trailed my hands up along his jaw, following the line of his cheek, feeling the pleasant roughness of a day’s growth of stubble. The muscles in his face tightened beneath my touch, as if he were fighting for self-control. His breathing grew heavier. I noticed his hands clenched his knees, fingers digging in, knuckles whitened.

  This was…hot. Thrilling. And it felt—I didn’t even know how to name all the things I was feeling. Desire, pleasure, power, tenderness. It was like he was opening up my heart and flooding it with emotions—even when I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel any of them. It was almost more than I could handle, but I didn’t want it to ever stop.

  I traced his eyebrows, and gently brushed over his closed eyes. “Dietrich,” I whispered, “Look at me.”

  He opened his eyes, and the raw heat in them made me falter. I drew a deep breath, and forced myself to return his gaze. I set one hand on his shoulder, as much to steady myself as anything. With the other, I touched his lips. He inhaled sharply. His mouth was soft, and I had a sudden image of bending down to kiss him. He would let me, I knew. The thought sent a fiery shiver down my back, all the way to my toes.

  “Scared?” he whispered against my fingers, his eyes caressing me.

  I inhaled. “No. You?”

  He smiled against my touch and kissed my fingers lightly, like brushing a lit match against them. “Hell, yes.”

  Someone a few yards away cleared her throat. “Um…hey, you two.” Thea shifted awkwardly on her feet, holding out Dietrich’s hat and my bag.

  I jumped back from Dietrich, my heart pounding, my brain numb. Dietrich stood and squeezed my shoulder—to steady me or him, I wasn’t sure. Then he strode past me and took his hat from Thea.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice cracking a little. He placed the hat on his head. “Did you find out anything from Lottie?”

  She handed me my bag, her eyes narrowing, promising me that there would be a full interrogation as soon as it could be arranged. “Yes, Lottie was very enlightening. I have some important news.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The confrontation with Dietrich in the alley unsettled me so much that I barely said anything during the trek back to the theater. Thea told us what she’d learned from her peek into Lottie’s mind. The poor woman seemed to be the mistress of—if not the Peacock himself—someone very closely associated with him. She was terrified of him.

  The most important information Thea had gathered was that the Peacock wasn’t working alone. He had accomplices. And from what Thea pieced together, the Peacock and his henchmen were part of some religious cult and were targeting theater celebrities because they hated the Empress and thought her obsession with theater was corrupting the morals of the Empire.

  Great. We were dealing with murderous religious-political nuts. We all agreed it fit the evidence so far—the ritualistic way the murders had been committed, the fact that it was always during a performance at which the Empress attended. The expedition to the Noggin had been worthwhile, and yet it left us all with so many more questions.

  I felt strangel
y detached from the conversation, almost like I was watching all of us from outside myself. Not even the last tunnel, the small one, bothered me very much. I kept thinking of Dietrich sitting on the crate in the alley, letting me run my hands through his hair. So many conflicting emotions—I trusted him, and still felt afraid. Wanted to kiss him, and yet now the thought turned my stomach again. Attraction. Hatred. Tenderness. Anger.

  I was, to put it simply, a bloody mess. No gent in his right mind would get anywhere near me. I didn’t know what that said about Raymond or Dietrich.

  That night, I had another nightmare. It started out in the usual way—with the metal bars of the cage closing in on me, and the crack of the monster’s whip. But then his voice grew soft. It became Dietrich’s voice, only without his goodness. A quiet voice, as if evil had been woven into silk.

  “Touch me, Claire. Touch me.”

  I came awake, gasping. My eyes were wet from crying. What sort of disgusting creature was I? I had betrayed Dietrich by merging him with the monster from my dream. Dietrich was a good man. It was me that was perverted and rotten. Otherwise, how could I dream such horrible things?

  I refused to go back to sleep. I crept to the trunk under the window and sat staring out at the sleeping city until the light dawned gray and quiet. It was a Sunday—only six days since all the gears of my world had been jammed.

  Seemed like a lifetime.

  Thea dragged me to breakfast even though I had a headache and my eyes felt like cheap wool rags. At the apprentice’s buffet table, she scooped a poached egg and a slice of bacon onto my plate, along with some fried tomatoes, mushrooms and a slice of toast. I tried to protest that I wasn’t that hungry, but she would hear none of it. After one of my nightmares, she was always in full mothering mode, and even though I grumbled about it, I loved that about her.

  “What are you doing after church service?” she asked me as we sat at one end of a crowded apprentice table in the dining room. “Do you have rehearsal with D and D?”

  Officially, the Mercian Empire was Christian. The emperors had done away with the popes about two hundred years ago, and proclaimed themselves the head of the church. Everyone had to attend a Sunday service of at least an hour’s duration. It seemed that church these days, though, was less about God and more about preaching the greatness of the Empire. We had a priest come do a service at the theater, and he was only too happy to keep it to an hour.

  “The Ds and I are rehearsing about two o’clock,” I answered her. I bit into the toast and tried not to talk with my mouth full. “Probably about three hours. Before that, I’ll be working on the defensive gadgets.”

  “How are those coming?”

  “I’m almost done with the claw knife prototype. I should finish it today. I’ve got sketches for three others. I don’t think Delphine could realistically use any more than about four.”

  “Hope she doesn’t need any of them. What kind of devices are you working on?”

  “Let’s see…I’m going to make some modifications to my pepper-spray bottle so I can conceal it in her costume, but that’s not very exciting.”

  “But it’s effective. Not everything has to be showy.”

  “I know. But it’s more fun.” Enthusiasm bubbled in me. It wasn’t very often that people wanted me to tell them about my innovations. “I have this idea for a gadget that can tell when someone with bad intentions is nearby. I was reading a medical journal in the library reference section about how animals can sense fear and other emotions in humans because of our hormones and pheromone changes. So if I can make a sensor that can detect and interpret those, then I could give Delphine some warning of an attack.”

  Thea shook her head, eyes glowing. “I’m thoroughly impressed. What else?”

  “What do you think about embedding retractable spikes into her boots?”

  “You are vicious and brilliant. I’m terrified.” She grinned. “After the prototypes, then what?”

  “I’ll have Delphine help me test them, and then I make adjustments and the final device. It’s going to be difficult to get that done by opening night, but I don’t have much choice.”

  She patted my hand. “You are doing an amazing job. Delphine ought to be offering you eternal gratitude—you’re saving her life.”

  “She better not thank me until the life has actually been saved.”

  “It will be.” She tucked into a fried tomato. “Are you able to keep up with your regular studies?”

  I exhaled. “Not very well. But it’s only for a few more weeks. I’ll be fine.”

  “I wish there was more I could do to help.”

  I smiled at her. “Your mind-reading tricks last night were very helpful. I’m glad you were there.”

  She looked a little shy. “Thank you. I just wish I’d been able to find out exactly how the…” she leaned close to whisper, “murders are being done.”

  I nodded. “We need that, and it would be really nice to know how he is getting into the theaters and back stage without being detected.”

  “And how he’s disappearing without being caught.”

  “Who’s disappearing?” Raymond slid onto the wooden bench next to me.

  I gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me!” I inhaled slowly, willing my pulse to settle down.

  “I’m sorry—I know you hate that.” He leaned behind me and tugged on one of Thea’s golden ringlets framing her face. “Who’s disappearing?”

  “Nobody,” she replied quickly.

  There was an awkward silence. Raymond looked at the two of us. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “No.” we both said.

  “So…what are we talking about?”

  “My senior project,” Thea replied at the same time I said, “The Season Opener party.”

  We glanced at each other ruefully.

  Raymond put his chin in his hand, watching us with a you-are-both-lying-little-wenches expression. “Fascinating.”

  “Raymond,” Thea began, her eyes begging him to understand, “we can’t really tell you.”

  I groaned.

  His brows raised. “Oh, it’s ‘we’ now? The secret project is contagious, I see. I’d better leave so I don’t catch it.”

  I didn’t dare peek at Thea, but I had a feeling we both looked guilty as hell.

  “Raymond, it’s not like we want to keep anything from you. Thea only got dragged into it because Dietrich needed her.”

  “It’s ‘Dietrich’ now, is it?” His voice was tight, his words clear and controlled.

  “At his request, while we’re working on this project, yes.” When he only stared back at me, closed and cold, I crossed my arms. “Oh come on, Raymond. It’s vitally important. You know we would tell you if we could. There’s no reason to be upset.”

  His face darkened. He got up from the table. “Of course not. I’m sure this secret Dietrich is working on is dreadfully important—so important he needs three female apprentices at his beck and call any time he wishes.”

  Thea made a sound between a groan and a gurgle. “Raymond!”

  He didn’t even look at her. “No, it’s fine. Really. I’ll just leave you to it.”

  I scrambled off the bench and trotted over to him. I grabbed his cravat and tugged him down toward me. I made a pretty pout. “You aren’t going anywhere until you promise not to be angry at us.”

  He tried to pull away, but I snuggled up close to him, making sure my breasts brushed against his waistcoat. I made my best puppy eyes. His irritation faded, and I could see he was trying not to smile. He looked at the ceiling and shook his head. Then he put an arm around my waist and hugged me. “You play dirty, Miss Mellor,” he murmured in my ear. But he was smiling—a little.

  I wiggled away from him—could only handle being held so long before the usual discomfort set in. But I took his hand, and smiled, looking up through my eyelashes at him. “And you wouldn’t want me any other way.” Oh lord, that wasn’t supposed to sound quite so suggestive. But judging from the r
ising color in his face, he didn’t exactly mind.

  I squeezed his hand. “Tomorrow’s the part at the Airship. Promise you’ll dance with me.”

  “Isn’t the man supposed to ask that?”

  “Well, then, ask.”

  He grinned. “Very well. Miss Mellor, will you save a dance for me at the Airship Club?”

  “I’d be honored, Mr. Carrew.” I dipped a little curtsey.

  He lifted my hand and dropped a quick kiss on it. “Until then.” He released my hand and sauntered out of the dining room.

  My heart thumping harder than usual, and with the feeling of his kiss still on my hand, I almost floated back to the bench.

  Thea sat there, arms folded, scowling at me. I saw a few other apprentices regarding us with curious expressions, but they were used by now to my antics. I slid onto the bench beside her. “What?”

  She pursed her lips. “What was that?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She jabbed the air in the direction Raymond had exited. “You can’t flirt with him!”

  My back stiffened. “I wasn’t. I was just teasing him into a better mood.”

  “By flirting.”

  “No, it’s no different than how I tease with anyone else.”

  “Yes. You flirt with everyone, Minx! Male, female, Guild member, apprentice. It’s like you are physically unable to communicate without flirting.”

  I stared at her. What had gotten into my normally good-natured friend? “And that’s suddenly a problem…why?”

  She gritted her teeth, almost growling. “God, Minx. Are you so blind? Raymond’s getting sweet on you, and you are toying with him.”

  “I have never toyed with him.”

  “You held his hand, you were sobbing all over him two nights ago, and now you throw yourself at him in full view of the dining room.”

  “He’s my friend. He’s our friend.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut a moment, almost like she was trying not to cry. But I couldn’t come up with a single reason why she would be crying. Then she opened them and surveyed me sadly. “Yes, he’s our friend, and I don’t want you to hurt him.”