Of Silk and Steam (25 page)

“Thank you,” Mina murmured.

“Don’t think you’re forgiven.” Lena glared.

“If she gets us out o’ this mess,” Blade said, “then she’ll ’ave earned me forgiveness.” He looked up. “But not before it.”

Mina picked the cat up again and curled her face into the top of Puss’s head, seeking refuge with her one ally in the room. Leo settled Lena back into her chair. She had been verwulfen for only a year. Trying to adjust to the changes in her body was difficult at times, particularly controlling the fierce emotions that a verwulfen was prone to suffer.

“Sun’s goin’ to come up soon and Morioch’s gonna ’it us with everythin’ ’e ’as,” Blade continued. “I’m more interested in the part where you show us ’ow to defeat ’im.”

“She means the Cyclops automatons,” Lena said. “The ones Mercury wanted me to create last year.”

“Thought you said there weren’t enough of ’em,” Blade said. “That Mercury ceased her activities with only a little over a ’undred or so.”

“There aren’t enough,” Mina interrupted. “Not in Mercury’s quadrant, but Mercury—or Rosalind Lynch, rather—was not the only one creating them for me. We needed a figurehead, someone to rouse the people, and so the legend of Mercury was created. In secret we had other humanist cells quietly at work in other quadrants of the city. Mercury was not aware of them.”

“So why ain’t you attacked yet?” Blade asked.

“We have the Cyclops, but we don’t have the men to handle them,” she replied. “Rosalind’s decision to ‘retire’ from the position of Mercury, following her marriage to Lynch, has been a recent setback. Mercury drew men to the humanist banner and gave the masses something to cheer for.” Mina took a deep breath, meeting Leo’s eyes. “We were planning to be at full strength within the next two years, but I’m taking a risk here. You have men”—this at Blade—“and the Nighthawks if we can free them. You also have a figurehead. Every human man, woman, and child knows the name of the Devil of Whitechapel. All you’d need to do is rise up against the prince consort and they’d follow you. The mob has always been something the prince consort fears.”

“And in return?” Blade asked. “What do you get?”

“Precisely what we want. The prince consort overthrown, preferably dead, and the queen on the throne, ruling as she was always meant to rule.”

“The people like her, but support’s been waning the last few years,” Leo pointed out quietly. “Over some of the decisions she’s made.”

“They were never her decisions,” Mina shot back fiercely. “If the Devil of Whitechapel storms into the Ivory Tower and then bends knee before her…they’ll yield. And she can earn their trust the hard way.”

“Is she strong enough to do it? All of us at court know she dabbles with laudanum.”

Mina’s cheeks flushed. “She
will
give it up. It simply…it eases her burden at times. You don’t know what he’s like behind closed doors.” This time she included the whole room in her glance. “He takes out every slight and challenge he receives on her. When Blade defeated Vickers because she gave him the chance…there were so many bruises. I will never atone for that. For leaving her there to face that. For telling her not to defy him. For not killing him when I have had the chance.” Head bowing, she whispered, “How could I ask her to give up the one thing that gives her relief when there is no end in sight?”

This was not simply an alliance between two powerless women, Leo realized. “You love her.”

“More than anything. She is my dearest friend, my only friend. The sister that I never had.”

Those shining eyes told him everything about her reasons.

“If I send you off with a bunch o’ the lads, you think you can use the Cyclops to defeat Morioch?” Blade asked.

“Can you hold the rookery until we return?” she asked.

Blade narrowed his eyes. “I’ll ’ave to, won’t I?”

Tension thickened in the air. Leo turned to Lena. “In aid of that, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?” his sister asked.

“What do you know about frequencies?”

Twilight settled over the city, smoky-edged and restless. The sun was a molten ball in the sky as it sank, casting the west into a dirty orange smudge through the haze. If Mina looked hard enough, she could just make out the needlelike spire of the Ivory Tower. All of the fires in the city had been put out during the day, except for the one near the Nighthawks’ guild headquarters. The fires were signs of rebellions crushed and dampened in other parts of the city, no doubt.

Hold
on
, she whispered to herself.
Just
hold
on, Alexa. I’m coming to get you.

“Your body armor’s ready,” a smooth voice murmured behind her.

Just the sound of it sent a shiver across her skin. Mina turned, seeking Barrons out in the shadows of the room. Once a prison, now it seemed a haven of sorts. It was easier to let down her guard here when there were just the two of them. Especially now that she’d revealed everything. It created an intimate little silence between them, the vague beginnings of trust she’d thought long gone.

Leo wore unrelieved black from head to toe. Sunlight winked through the ruby stud in his ear. The sight was so familiar that she felt a little clench in her chest, but when she stepped away from the window, crossing toward him, he gave no sign that he felt it too.

Blade had delegated the pair of them to prepare, while he sorted through his men for those dexterous enough to handle the Cyclops. A hard balance. Take too many and the wall would fall. Mina knew only too well what she was asking of him. Admiration bloomed like a reluctant flower. The Devil of Whitechapel was a dangerous man but, she was starting to realize, he was also incredibly loyal and protective of those he considered his own. A man who weighed the risks of halving his forces, knowing that if he erred on either side, their mission would fail.

And his people would die.

Morioch might have fallen back for most of the day, after his ruse with the clockwork bombs had failed, but she could hear the marching step of metal feet in the distance, even through the closed window. The rest of the Echelon’s automatons, half of them ceremonial, no doubt. Morioch was so determined to win the rookery that he was stripping valuable defenses from the Ivory Tower.

There couldn’t be a better opportunity, could there? Mina rubbed at her chest, trying to ease her doubt.

Barrons held up a brass-plated protective leather corset that would buckle over her shirt. Outwardly he seemed relaxed but she sensed the same inner tension within him. “It’s one of Lark’s, apparently.”

It should fit. The young woman was of a height with her, though Mina couldn’t help wondering if she’d be able to breathe. She held out her hand and he responded with a rather bland look that said everything.

“It won’t be the first time I’ve played lady’s maid for you.” Although there was a challenging glint in his eyes, his voice was rougher than it ought to be and a shadow of stubble decorated his cheeks. Mina recognized a bone-deep weariness that had nothing to do with lack of sleep. He’d had one shock after another in the last few days, and though she could see him slowly putting himself back together, the experiences still haunted his eyes at moments.

She didn’t have the heart to insist he wait outside. “How does it work?”

“Hold your arms up.” Barrons tugged the laces as loose as he could, then slipped it over her head, sliding it down over her shoulders and setting it into place over her hips and waist. His hands smoothed over her hips, pausing for just a moment. She could almost feel the tension building in his body. Mina dragged her hair over her shoulder, holding it there.

“You’re nervous.” His clever fingers pulled at her laces, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck.

No point in denying it. She felt ready to fly out of her skin. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“You can trust Blade—”

“I wouldn’t have ever mentioned it if I didn’t think I could trust him.”

The press of his body was somehow comforting, even as his fingers slowed. “Then what’s bothering you?”

“I’m well out of my depth here.” It felt strange to admit to a weakness. “I have no information. I don’t know what’s going on at court, if the queen’s still well, if all of the humanists I’ve set into place are still free—”
If
Hannah
and
Grimsby
and
the
rest
of
her
people
were
safe…

“Breathe,” he suggested. Warm fingers curled over her shoulders, abandoning any pretense at lacing her up. He dragged her back against his body, pressing his lips lightly to the back of her neck. “And tell me what the real problem is.”

Mina stood arrested.
The
real
problem…?
She opened her mouth, then paused, letting his thumbs dig into the tense muscles of her shoulders through her silk shirt. Working her way through the turmoil in her mind. “What if I have one chance and I destroy it by moving too quickly? Surprise is our only weapon.”

“What if you have one chance…and you never take it?”

The words were a blistering realization. Mina glanced over her shoulder helplessly.

“You need to trust in yourself—in all of us. The Ivory Tower is going to fall, Mina, sooner or later. There are too many voices that refuse to be silenced, too many people the prince consort’s crushed. He cannot kill them all. And I know, in here”—he thumped his fist against his heart—“that when we rise, the whole of London will rise with us. He can’t defeat that, Mina. That’s how I know we’re going to win.”

She could barely think, blinded by the surety in his voice—and the sudden realization that this was the only man who had ever understood her on any level.

The truce between them was a tenuous one, but she could feel him reaching out to her. Mina stayed very still, softening under the slow circles of his thumbs.
I’m tired of pulling away.

What
if
you
have
one
chance…and you never take it?

The words echoed in her ears and beat in her heart, like the opening strains of a waltz, growing stronger, steadier, as the players found their confidence. Wondering in that moment if this was all that the pair of them would ever have—stolen moments shrouded in secrecy.

“Lean forward,” he suggested.

Without thinking, Mina turned, gripping his face and lifting up onto her toes. She only had a second to see the shocked look in his eyes, and then her lips met his. A strangled sound came from his throat, then his hands slid over her hips, jerking her roughly against him. He kissed her with everything he had.

This man would never be easy to manage. She could never hide herself from him. He’d demand everything of her and still ask for more, and she wasn’t certain she could give it. But this…

Mina pressed him back against the wall, sliding her hungry hands down over his chest. His own caressed her arse, grinding her hips against him, letting her feel just how much he wanted her. She wanted more, wanted to feel the smooth glide of his skin beneath hers. Mina’s hands yanked at his shirt, dragging it out of his pants, her palms seeking the coolness of his skin beneath. Roaming the tautness of his flat stomach, feeling the ripple of his abdominals quiver beneath her touch, and up over the hard planes of his chest.

More.

Mina bit his lip, jerking her hands out to tug at his buttons. One hit the floor. She didn’t care. Barrons pushed her away just long enough to jerk the damned shirt over his head with a snarl, baring all of that skin to her gaze, to her touch. He caught her wrists and dragged her back against him, holding her there.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he gasped, the words so rough and raw that it pulled at something deep inside her, “but what did I say to bring this about?”

Her heart twisted in her chest, all of the doubt washing down on her again. “Maybe I’m just thinking about the future. About tonight. We’re going to war, Barrons. What if I never get this chance with you? What if I never get to make love to you?”

His expression sharpened, understanding what she was truly suggesting.
People
died. Even blue bloods. Especially those she cared about.

“I thought we’d covered that.” He took the easy way out.

“You tied me to a chair. I would hardly call what happened here before ‘making love.’ Something more akin to war.”

Fingertips skittered down her face. “We’ve got but an hour or two, love.” Leaning closer, his voice dropped several octaves. “That’s hardly time enough for what I have in mind to do to you.”

A little thrill whispered over her skin. “You’re a resourceful man. I’m certain you’ll come up with something.”

“Something? Hmm?” His expression darkened, teeth nipping at her jaw, her throat. “I think we can do better than that.” The press of his body against her earned a gasp. Taking her wrists in one hand left the other free to explore, and he used it with devastating effect.

“Barrons?” She wriggled against his hold.

“Yes?” His fingers paused, trailing over her leather-clad thigh.

Her lashes lowered. “I liked the way you kissed me. That time at your secret house, in your bathroom.”

Not so much the method of kissing—he excelled at that—but the look in his eyes as he did it, the way he stared at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. As if he saw every facet of her: strengths, her weaknesses, the way she girded her armor against the world… Saw it and understood all of it.

Long, slow moments trickled by. “Did you?” His eyes blackened, far more intense than they’d been. Burning right through her.

Barrons leaned down and caught her beneath her bottom, lifting her up into his strong arms. He kissed her, slow and deep, striding toward the bed with her legs wrapped around his hips. The armored corset came off, then her undershirt and chemise, leaving her pale flesh bared to his gaze as she tumbled onto her back on the bed. Leo’s eyes drank her in, fingertips skating up over her ribs and brushing against the undersides of her full breasts. A square of dying sunlight from the window gilded the hard muscle in his shoulders, catching the faded tips of his eyelashes.

Mina’s breath caught. He was an astoundingly handsome man, all hard planes and lean angles, with those dark, fathomless eyes. Only she knew what lurked there. A man of impressive strength of will. Being beaten down, facing the loss of all he knew had cut any softness from him, but instead of destroying him, she could see it making him anew. Like a blade, forged in hot coals and hammered out slowly to hone its edges.

There was a softening in her at the thought. She cupped his face and he leaned into it instinctively, seeking more from the touch. She didn’t like to see him hurting, though it was necessary if he wanted to move through all of this.

Leo’s pulse raged in his throat as he knelt over her, callused palms rasping up over her breasts. “I never thought you’d ever surrender to me,” he admitted, kneeling over her.

“This is not a surrender.” Her hands pressed flat against the heavy slab of his chest, her body tensing.

“No?” The muscle in his biceps flexed as he lowered himself over her, her hands giving way slowly, those dark eyes watching her as he brushed his lips against her breast. “Then what do you call it, Mina?”

Her hands tensed.

“Let me in,” he whispered, his breath stirring over her sensitive flesh, his tongue darting over her nipple and sending shivers across her skin. “Stop fighting me. Let me make love to you. Let me show you all the ways I’ve been dreaming of to pleasure you over the years.”

She couldn’t stop a shaky breath. Surrender was a word she didn’t like. It spoke too much of leaving herself unprotected, leaving her heart bared and wide open. But she had asked this of him. Her arms yielded, her eyes closing softly. Her fingertips grazed his lean flanks as she let her hands fall to the bed.

She was the picture of submission, but she couldn’t help feeling as though a part of her steeled itself.

“What do you have to fear?” he asked gently, his body weight hovering over her as if her hands were still between them. “I won’t hurt you.” Lips brushed against her jaw, her throat… Silken caresses she felt to the bone, with her eyes clenched tightly shut.

His mouth trailed up her cheek. More devastatingly light caresses. Over her brow and eyes, her eyelashes rasping his soft lips. Taking her chin, he tipped her mouth up to his, the weight of his body softening upon hers as he rested on one arm. His tongue caressed hers in light, slow circles, his entire body seeming to wrap around her as if he were melting into her. The kind of kisses that stole her breath and made her dizzy.

Everything that she’d asked for. Mina blinked hotly as she drew back from the kiss, her bones feeling like weighted lead and her skin flushed and heated. It was a little disorienting. She wanted it so much and yet…

Leo rested his forehead against hers, breathing in the scent of her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She wanted more of that kissing and reached for him, but he held her down, wrists pinned to the bed.

Meeting that gaze was hard. In it was a silent demand. “Talk to me,” he said, then his expression softened. “Please.”

“I just… This is…” Mina looked away. “I’ve always believed that loving someone is giving them the power to destroy you,” she whispered. “It’s… I feel like—I can’t—”

“You already have the power to destroy me.”

Her breath caught.

“And it’s terrifying,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m standing in an entirely new world, a world I don’t know, but one full of so much possibility. But the thing that frightens me the most is that I fear I’m standing here alone. That loss would be greater than anything I’ve suffered this week.”

She opened her mouth—then hesitated.

“And you won’t say it. You won’t tell me that I’m not alone in this, but then I think of what you just asked of me. ‘Kiss me. The way you did once.’” A small furrow worked its way between his brows, his gaze absorbing the details of her face. “And I think I know what you’re really asking.”