A Web of Steam & Puppet Strings (Sevastyan #1)

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

I'd never been witness to Eliza caving into rage before. I had to hold her down and restrain all four of her limbs. She was slippery. She could wrestle me down if she really wanted, but she was too intoxicated by her own fury to do even simple math.

When she'd finally vented her anger and reduced herself to desperate gasps for air, I talked her down. We perched ourselves on the edge of her cot, in perfect darkness, catching up to our own breathing. She needed a few moments longer to seethe, but once she had diffused, she snapped her fingers to ignite a candle flame from her thumb. The small light drew dark shadows, but sufficed enough for her to tilt my chin for a better look. Despite my wounded pride, I let her.

"Your jaw's bruised," she said. "Doesn't that constitute breaking the Rule of 'Behave Moderately'?"

"Seems unlikely." I rubbed at the aching curve of my spine. "Others have somehow stayed after utilizing their knuckles as divine tools to restructure the faces of others."

She clapped a hand on my shoulder. It hurt. "I'm almost convinced they're not really watching at all. What do you think, Sev? Should we have coitus to test it?"

My face burned. At least the dim light concealed it. "Kids have disappeared."

"Yes, but we don't always know of their transgressions, do we? One boy vanished for not showering, and we only knew that because his towel and tunic had been left behind in his cubby, untouched, and, more importantly, his famous last words the night before had been, 'Well gee, I can't seem to recall whether or not I've showered today. Ah well.'"

I hadn't been here long enough to witness that.

Had I been, I'd have probably dragged him into the shower, fully clothed, whether or not enough time remained before the clock chimed, and slapped him with waves of cold water. "I wonder how they simply 'vanish'. It seems this machine can't control one without controlling everyone."

Her gaze shifted to the floor. "Or perhaps this scientist woman only ever used it in that manner. And I wonder what makes you different from us?"

"Or anyone else..." I thought of Rurik, in his gold armor. I thought of the soldiers, Illarion and Anastasya, and Isidora herself.

Then I thought of the numbers.

Everyone here, except me, was in the hundreds. And now there was a three hundred.

Where was this three hundred? Why wasn't the three hundred with us?

"Come on, Sev, we should get to bed. You're going to be sore and a pain in my arse to deal with tomorrow." She stuffed the candle flame into my hands instead, but I was clumsy with it. Took a moment of juggling before I held it in my open palm and watched as she tossed her boots to the floor and unbuttoned her tunic.

My eyes stayed on her. Shameless torture, really. She shed the fabric to reveal the flowing curves of her body, marred by the occasional burn and battle scar. I absorbed the line of her back, my gaze tracing her spine and the muscles that flexed as she reached for her shirt and dressed herself again. Once finished, she turned on me and opened up her hand again.

Right.

I returned the flame to her capable hands before I stripped myself down and stepped into my trousers. Once I was finished with all the layers and smearing black around my eyes, she already had the rope ready. I knotted it good and tight around my wrist as she shook her head and said, "I don't know what I'm going to do to manage the gossip now, not after Maksim threatened to sit on you. Perhaps I should lock you up and not let you out again."