Geared for Pleasure (7 page)

“That was why I disturbed your privacy. The Siren’s parlor is full of men vying to appreciate all of you. As usual, Seraphina, you and your whip are much in demand.” His gaze included the other women. “I appreciate the warm welcome you have given our guest, but you are all far too beautiful to stay hidden in your rooms.”

He guided them out the door, and Lavender murmured behind her, “He called you our guest, Dare. That means you won’t be joining us tonight, more’s the pity. You
do
look pretty.”

“Dare and I have business to discuss. Don’t worry, Lavender, I’ll take good care of her.” Bodhan followed the group of flamboyant women to a curtained balcony, while Dare and Seraphina lagged behind.

The sounds of muffled male revelry could be heard beyond the velvet drapes. Dare could hear music and the sound of glasses clinking. How many men were down there? Curiosity made her reach out
to pull the curtains aside but Seraphina, whose back had been turned away from her, caught her hand before she could touch the fabric.

She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. “If they see you, catch a glimpse of that lovely head of hair, tonight’s free pass will be over. He will be obliged to present you. I am sure neither you, nor our handsome proprietor, would like what happened next.”

Bodhan went to the far end of the balcony, where the railing was missing, and pushed a long golden lever forward. Dare heard the distinct sound of gears grinding, and a spiral stairwell appeared, rising from somewhere down below.

The men had obviously taken that as a sign that the night was about to take a more enjoyable turn. The appreciative shouts and applause grew louder, the perspective customers clearly enjoying the drama of the moment. As were the women around her. Dare could feel their expectance, their arousal. She was suddenly grateful she was no longer tied up in the Echo Chamber. Now that she knew the women, listening to their cries of pleasure would be that much more disconcerting.

When the stairs clicked into place, Bodhan turned to face the women once more. “Remember, you are in control. You choose whom you wish to pleasure, whom you wish to pleasure you. If any man’s advances are unwelcome, if they offend you in word or deed, I and the Siren’s guards are standing by to protect you as always. Now go enjoy.”

That didn’t sound like the speech of a vulgar seller of flesh. Dare studied the women. They were all gazing up at him as though he were too good to be true. A paragon who was even now directing them to descend the stairs and find a man to seduce.

She shook her head.

Seraphina sauntered past him, looking down at his formfitting trousers before licking her lips. “You are unwise to hide such a talent
this far beneath the sea. With your gifts and knowledge, you could run the world. Don’t you think so, Dare?”

Dare had a feeling she was not merely speaking of his oratory skills. She decided silence was the most sensible course of action.

Bodhan and Seraphina shared a speaking look before she shrugged, walking slowly, tauntingly, toward the stairs. Try as she might, Dare could not make out her tail beneath the bustled skirt.

When they were alone, Bodhan met her gaze. “Seraphina can be aggressive. I hope she did not distress you.”

Dare shook her head, too distracted to hold her tongue. “Not at all, sir. Truly, I am more fascinated than distressed.”

His smile was sardonic, his strong jaw shadowed with stubble. It gave him more of a rakish air. “You are not alone in that. I have never seen another female so enjoy her work. This visit she is more voracious than usual. It seems she wishes to sample every pleasure the
Siren
has to offer before the month’s end.” He came closer. “And I believe I told you, my name is Bodhan.”

“Very well, Bodhan.”

He held out his arm gallantly. “Good. I enjoy hearing the sound of your voice. So distinctive. As a rule, I’ve only heard that style of speech from those educated on the Hill. Is that where you were raised?”

She placed her hand on his arm, feeling the muscle beneath her palm, and bit her cheek to hold back a smile. The interrogation had begun, but she could sense the lightness of his mood. She was in no danger at the moment. Though she should have known he would not readily give up.

“Yours is far more distinctive than mine,” she demurred. “So distinctive I cannot place it. Will you tell me where you are from as well? If you have been there recently?” His silence made her lips tighten. “Regardless of where I came from, I am here now. I believe
I would have remembered if anyone requested references before tying me up like wild game for a feast.”

His arm tensed beneath her fingers, but he didn’t argue. She did not ask where they were going. In fact, touching him was once again making it difficult for her to concentrate. She should be taking in every detail, every door and hallway. Yet it seemed a pointless endeavor. There was nowhere to escape to as long as they remained submerged.

After a few moments walking in the opposite direction of the staircase, past the women’s suite and farther down the hall, they stood in front of a narrow door she had assumed led to a water or utility closet. When he opened it she looked inside and inhaled sharply.

She attempted to pull away from him. “Unhand me. I had your word you would take me to Two Moon Bay.”

He turned his arm to grip her hand in his. “And I will. What is it, Dare? Is the view truly that terrifying?”

The view was an iron gangplank that led to… nothing. The abyss. Water above and below and on every side. There was no purchase. No balance. She wondered how she was breathing at all. Why the sea was not crashing in around her…

He huffed a surprised breath. “You are shivering. Breathe, woman, and take a closer look. The sides and ceiling are clear, but they are there. The illusion can fool you.” He pointed with his free hand. “See there, at the end of the walkway? There is a latch for a door. And can you make out the brass framing a small lit-up room beyond? That is the Siren’s lift, a room that takes us up or down, to other levels on the ship. There is even a cushioned bench inside it for you to sit on while you travel.” His fingers squeezed hers securely. “I meant to surprise you, to show you something I’d imagined you would enjoy. To show you how beautiful the Siren could be. Not
for you to think I—what? Had decided to sacrifice you to some sort of angry sea gods?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” She placed her free hand on her chest, feeling her heart race. A lift. It was merely a lift. She had seen several that led from the Copper Palace to the Theorrean Raj’s inner sanctum and science labs below. But this was… “How? How does it work? How can mere glass hold back so much water? And I see no winches or wires. What makes it move?”

There was a smile in Bodhan’s voice as he guided her down the walkway. “Inquisitive but not confused,” he murmured. “Interesting. In answer, I can tell you there is nothing
mere
about my
Siren
. The windows, the lift, every rivet on her frame is unique. The glass is of a special resilience not used or known of in the world above. She is more than she seems. She reminds me of you in that way.”

Now that she had regained a few of her scattered wits she noticed the filigreed brass and wood handrail along the plank that led through what seemed to be a short glass tunnel. The watery view was intermittently broken by the delicate brass framing each pane.

His hand on her lower back led her into the small glass room that was the lift itself and closed the door behind them, sealing it with a nerve-inducing finality. Dare looked down, relieved to see a solid floor beneath her feet. Despite the rail and floor and the few latches that dogged the door, she felt as if she were in a soap bubble. Insubstantial. Capable of floating away at any moment.

Breakable.

She had almost no sense of movement when their descent began, save for the hall she’d walked through soaring away overhead and the steel sides of the
Siren
rushing past her as they dropped.

Heightened by the close proximity and the adrenaline of fear, her senses were sharply enhanced. She inhaled his darkly masculine scent, an aroma that was more intense than Seraphina’s had been. Spicier.

Dare had a sudden, overwhelming urge to lean against him, to touch him. To bury her nose in his neck and breathe him in. A ridiculous but tantalizing notion, in spite of her current circumstances. Was this den of sin compromising her principles so swiftly, then?

Or was it him? Bodhan, alone, who did this to her?

His thumb caressed the flesh of her hand and she shivered. Perhaps her initial instincts about his abilities with mesmerism were correct. How else could she explain her reaction each time he was near?

She watched him flip open the clasps of the wide leather brace at his wrist, saw a telling glow beneath the fingers of his free hand, and remembered herself. That was no timepiece, but more proof of his criminal behavior. Bodhan, too, was more than he seemed. She would need all of her faculties to discover just how much more, and what, if anything, it had to do with Queen Idony.

“You aren’t looking, princess.” Something locked into place as the lift stopped mid-journey. “The Siren deserves to be admired.”

“I would rather not, thank you. Where are you taking me?”

“On a tour as my guest. We are now in a singular spot on the lift. The spot where you can see the entirety of my lady love and replace your fear with awe. Or have you changed your mind? Would you rather join the others for the evening?”

His threat was subtle but perfectly clear. She could obey, or she could earn her passage with the rest of the women.

Dare followed his instructions and her mouth opened in astonishment. “Impossible.”

Someday you and I will travel in one the size of a small city.

The queen’s words echoed in her head. The size of a small city, indeed. Though this was no simple windup toy. It was, she had no doubt, more immense, more unique than any ship that floated on the surface above it.

“Not impossible.” Bodhan’s voice was deep and rich behind her. Close. “The Siren is one of the unsung wonders of the world. Ten stories of wonder. She is a magical marvel of invention created, as everything should be in Theorrey, to be desired and enjoyed.”

He might have been describing a lover, the way he spoke of his Siren. But Dare could only agree. She
could
see everything from this vantage point.

A dome of colorfully stained glass topped the decadent vessel like a jeweled crown. Beneath it, light poured out from rows of large brass-framed viewing windows and small round portholes that ran the height and length of the ship. It also pulsed from what had to be the engine room at the far end of the submersible, housing the soul of the beautiful beast.

The iron Leviathan stretched and curved for what appeared to be miles on either side of the lift. Perhaps it was magical, or it could be an illusion of the dark sea—either way it was impressive. The entire submersible seemed to shimmer with light and life. And so much movement.

For a moment she forgot to be afraid, leaning forward against the glass like an eager child and looking up to study the dizzying motion of the utterly improbable brass rings that slowly circled around the girth of the ship’s midsection.

An image of the gyroscope in the old scholar Steele’s study sprang to mind, though she doubted even he had imagined a version of this magnitude being used. Certainly not for any illicit intentions.

“Who was the Siren’s architect? Did you steal this from the science ministry?” She knew the moment she spoke the words they were ill advised. In an instant her tenuous situation and the fragile barrier that trapped her between a tensed male body and certain death seized control of her heartbeat, causing it to race.

His hand slid out of hers, but he didn’t step away. “The Siren belongs to me. As a child I watched each bolt fastened, each room
built. We grew up together, she and I. The Theorrean Raj”—he spit the words as if they soured his tongue—“and all who blindly do their bidding, are too narrow to
dream
of her. Too focused on themselves. All charts halt at the reef they call Theorrey’s End, in fear of what lies beyond. They are hypocrites, not creators.”

She knew he was watching her closely, could feel his gaze burning her, but she needed him to speak. She had only felt his honesty. Honest desire. Honest curiosity. And now, honest loathing. “Why would you say such a thing?”

His hands were caressing her arms almost absently. “Would it surprise you to know that many of your Raj and their ministers, when they don’t holiday on Maithuna, frequent the Siren?”

It would. They were, after all, the ones who made and amended the laws without the need of the queen’s approval. Was that why Idony so distrusted them? Why Dare herself was finding it difficult—since she’d left the safe confines of her home—to obey the laws she’d been raised to protect?

“Hypocrites, indeed, if it is true. I suppose you hate our eternal queen as well.” Enough to commit treason by kidnapping her? Or worse? She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

It was sincere. “I love Queen Idony, may she be as ever-blessed as she is wise. I am
not
fond of those surrounding her. Those that hoard her light for themselves. None of us—” He cut himself off and changed subjects abruptly. “But why should we speak of politics tonight? The dress suits you. Seraphina was right. You look like a princess trapped in a tower.”

The words took Dare by surprise and she turned to look up at him for the first time since they entered the cramped confines of the lift. “I cannot help but feel trapped in this lift, in my current situation, but I am no princess.”

His uniquely pale eyes were unnerving, his gaze instantly
homing in on the bare flesh of her neck and shoulders. “And I am no prince. Still, you
are
lovely.”

She took a deep breath, the action pushing the mounds of her breasts higher above the cut of her gown. It was not as revealing as Lavender’s, and was far more modest a design than Seraphina’s garb, yet she felt naked. Vulnerable.