The days before Theo had to leave for parliament passed quickly. There seemed to be an endless number of variations of lovemaking that he wished to try out on her, though never rope, because she still refused to allow it. That he respected this boundary meant so much to her. Though otherwise, she trusted him absolutely and bowed to his will.
Two days before Theo was to leave, Dankyo found her at the garden nursery helping George prune the orange trees. She was at the top of a small ladder. As he crunched across the leaf-strewn root bed, she ignored him, hoping he wasn’t aiming for her. He peered up. From above, his flat-shorn head of hair looked like it’d make a glorious broom.
“Might I have a word with you”—he studied her—“Miss Claire?”
She climbed down, put down the shears, then slowly wiped her hands on her apron. “Sure.”
“Please.” He indicated the path out down the aisle of trees.
This was the first he’d spoken to her since the day Theo had let him spank her. She eyed him warily. No hint of superiority or arrogance on his face. Well…no more than usual. Of course, the spanking had been Theo’s doing—meant to impress on her the pecking order. Dankyo had participated reluctantly. It had worked. She couldn’t imagine saying no to this straitlaced man anymore—though partly because, if Theo found out, the consequences might be painful.
After she took off her apron, he led her toward the vehicle depot. She thought of breaching the silence, asking him what was on his mind, but decided not to. She’d let him make the first move. Theo liked control, but Dankyo embodied it, lived it. A week ago she would have itched for a weapon in her hand when around Dankyo, but she’d learned. Not everything was solved by violence.
A muted roar came from within the depot. A shadow passed over. She looked up. The clouds had moved fast, and rain spattered cool dots on her bare arms.
Inside Henry was at work, lurking underneath the chugging steam limousine. Though Theo had called them both steam buggies, this was a sleek mean machine with an articulated chassis like a gold-adorned centipede given wheels instead of legs.
“Henry!” Dankyo shouted to be heard over the engine.
Henry slid out from under the steam limo, his mouse gray hair sticking up in disarray. “Yes?”
“I want to take out the buggy.”
“Hex? Sure.” He sat up and rubbed at his head, smearing a splotch of oil up into his hair.
He levered himself off the floor and stood, adjusted the crotch of his khaki overalls. “I’ll have to fire Hex up with the voltaic generator an’ keep the engine running, or she’ll be impossible to restart. Needs a bit o’ work.”
Dankyo nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I want something with speed.”
Strange. He’d never struck her as the sort who liked adrenaline rushes.
Claire turned to the other vehicle Dankyo’d termed a buggy. It was plain ugly, with a myriad of spindly pipes cradling the engine and cabin. If the limo was a centipede, then the buggy was a spider with a huge ass on wheels.
“Get in.” Dankyo pointed at the passenger side, then went to help Henry click some thick cables to points beneath Hex. She shrugged and climbed in, taking care to tuck the skirt under her and clip on the safety harness. Whatever Dankyo planned, he wasn’t going to murder her or anything. The man unsettled her, but unease wasn’t a death sentence.
The wide back doors were pushed back by Dankyo and Henry. Rain advanced across the expanse of grass, reaching the gravel road just outside, turning the stone dark in seconds.
Once started, Hex chuffed as fast as the gyrocopter, with an alarming tendency to lift up on the front wheels—and that was while stationary. Dankyo sat in the driver’s seat and went through a fast but thorough checklist. He glanced at her, locked a sway bar into place between them and the dashboard, then accelerated away. She sank her fingernails into the bar. The seat shook with the vibrations of the engine as they drove into the gray drizzle.
The windscreen kinked back like an arrowhead to each side. She peered through the rain-spotted glass.
“Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular. Sometimes I just like to drive. It helps keep me sane.”
She peered cautiously at him. “Sane?”
“Yes. I am human. I’ll take the sealed road to start with, but this vehicle loves the dirt. She can take everything—shrubs, rocks…” The buggy took a tight curve in the road with a calculated slide and crunch of flying gravel. “I asked you to come because…I need to know what exactly your intentions are. Number one…” He wrenched the wheel and planted his foot. The road ahead ran straight for at least a mile.
He braked. Hex slid to a halt.
The patter of rain mixed with the throb and hiss of the motor.
“Are you loyal?” With a hand still on the wheel, he turned to face her.
“I am. Of course I am. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Theo or the others here…even you.”
He smiled, his lips thin and even on that smooth face. He studied her. She knew he looked for the slightest clue that she lied.
“Would you lay down your life for him?”