She didn't have reason to stay. Although she'd wanted him, she doubted he could take care of her. The damned irony was that by giving her a sous--hoping to show her that he could provide for a family, that he would be generous--he'd offered her an escape route. That much money could take her halfway around the world.
So he'd just have to find her again.
Dread hardening into determination, Eben handed the telescope over to Barker and braced his hands on the quarterdeck's balustrade.
"Captain!"
The shout came from the crow's nest, where Teppers pointed over the port bow. Eben narrowed his eyes against the sun. The water's calm surface had been disturbed by a small eruption, as if a pocket of air had broken underneath. A few moments later, there was another, almost one hundred yards closer to Vesuvius.
He glanced at Barker, holding the telescope to his eye. "Anything?"
Barker shook his head.
Another shout came from the bosun's mate, at the starboard rail amidships. "Captain!"
Eben had only a second to glimpse the enormous dark form just below the surface, a rounded body plated with interlocking iron segments. Another pocket erupted fifty feet from Vesuvius's side, disturbing the water--when it faded to a ripple the creature beneath had gone.
Barker looked to him with wide eyes. "Would Ivy have had time enough to rebuild it?"
"No." And thank God, because otherwise she might have been in the sea with the real thing. "Hold steady on course. Ready the axes."
And pray that they could sail on past it. If the tentacles got hold of them, their only option was to chop away until the kraken let go.
A film of sweat popped out on the quartermaster's brow. Barker nodded and shouted to the crew, "Man the axe stations, and look sharp! Keep your eyes out--"
Terrified shouts sounded from the poop deck. Eben pivoted to look aft. His blood froze.
Dark and glistening, as thick as his waist at the tip, the tentacle rose over the quarterdeck. Plate-sized suckers covered the pale gray underside, the pink flesh seeming to open and close like hungry mouths as the kraken sought prey . . . and it came straight for Eben.
He reached for his weapon--too late. Heavy muscle wrapped his upper body in an unbreakable coil, pinning his arms to his sides. Jesus Christ. The oily stink filled his desperate breaths as the tentacle lifted him off his feet. He felt the suckers pulling at his legs, his back. Barker shouted and came at the thick arm with an axe. The blade skidded off the oily skin in a shower of sparks.
Mechanical flesh.
Barker's mouth dropped open. Eben met his gaze for a second, and saw his astonishment reflected in the other man's eyes. Ivy had done it.
But what the hell was she doing now?
Eben didn't have time to ask. The tentacle carried him over the side of the ship. He pulled in a final breath before it dragged him beneath the freezing water. The shouts and screams from Vesuvius vanished into a swirling, watery quiet. Overhead, Vesuvius's keel formed a long, dark shadow. He looked down into a nightmare.
Ivy's giant machine churned the water below, its enormous staring eyes lit like a furnace. Steam boiled from the tips of the eight arms spread like rays beneath an enormous rounded body, as if the hell inside couldn't be contained. Wrapped in the tentacle, he dove past the plated body, between two arms, toward the underside of the submersible--where a kraken's beak would be. A rounded hatch opened instead, revealing a gaslit chamber. The tentacle shoved him toward it, until his head broke the surface and he hauled in a deep, ragged breath. The tentacle loosened.
Kneeling by the rim in a white shirt and trousers, Ivy laughed and dragged him from the icy water into a steam bath. Eben lay on the metal floor, coughing and sputtering, staring up at her. Red hair was plastered to her head with sweat, her face flushed. She was utterly beautiful.
"Can you breathe?" she asked.
Chest heaving, he nodded. He wasn't sure about talking yet, but--
Ivy bent over, gripping his wet hair to hold him still, and ravished his mouth with a kiss. When she let go, he couldn't speak, breathe--or think. He'd never been so astonished in his life.
She grinned down at him. "Do you think the machine is frightening enough?"
He barked out a laugh, which sent him into another fit of coughing. Patting his back, Ivy looked around.
"Circle beneath Vesuvius," she said, and climbed to her feet.
Still catching his breath, Eben rose, shoulders bent to avoid the low ceiling. Three men--one his former blacksmith, Lambert--and two women manned the submersible from seats surrounded by forests of levers, and every surface on the bulkheads and ceiling was packed with valves and controls. A low hiss and the clacking of the four pedaling automatons sounded strangely hollow, as did his voice.
"The heat in here--is it from a steam engine?"
He couldn't hear one, but it might have been shut down. He hoped to God she never fired one, not while in the water.
Ivy shook her head. "Just a boiler and valves to circulate steam around the gas bladders in the arms--and to keep us from freezing."
Eben struggled for some response. What she'd put together here . . . he'd told her to do it, but he hadn't known if anyone could. And it was beyond words.
Ivy continued, "It needs a crew of five. Your blacksmith and Trahaearn's steward helped me choose. They can all keep a secret, and know the area well enough to leave the local fishermen and traders alone. And they are each loyal to you or the Iron Duke." She glanced toward a short, blond man looking through a periscope. "I've trained John Davies to take my place."
Eben recognized him. Eight months ago, Davies had been chained in the hold of a slave ship, his arm drill smashed beyond repair.
Davies pushed the periscope up into the ceiling, and turned with his hand extended. "Good to see you again, Captain."
Automatically, Eben shook his hand--then looked down in surprise. It was a prosthetic shaped exactly like a hand, but it wasn't mechanical flesh. Instead, it had been created of interlocking machines, each operating individually to resemble lifelike movement. He could feel the difference in pressure and strength in each of the man's fingers, just as he would if the hand were flesh. If not for the hardness of the metal, Eben wouldn't have known he was gripping a prosthetic. He'd never seen anything like it before.
Davies grinned and lifted his chin toward one of the women. "My lady, Mary, and I have an ongoing debate. Between this and the kraken, I say this hand is the more amazing. She doesn't agree. And Ivy won't give her opinion, citing bias as the maker."
Eben felt as if he'd been dunked underwater again. He looked to Ivy, who was standing beside one of the crew, checking a valve. "You did this?"
"It was a trade. He needed an arm more than he needed a hook, and I needed his two-seater balloon to get around the island." She glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze. Her green eyes were bright with amusement. "You were gone more than three weeks. I had to do something."
And she'd done something . . . incredible. He glanced down at the prosthetic, then around the chamber. Hell. Beyond incredible. Though the primary structure of the kraken had remained mostly the same, the modifications she'd made had turned it into this. Functioning. Frightening.
Yet she'd been hiding from him in Fool's Cove. He didn't think she would have, now. Her face shone with animation and joy--but also confidence. She'd always been secure in her work. But he thought that she, too, recognized just how amazing her talent was.
How amazing she was.
She moved to the hatch in the center of the floor. "Mary, will you bring in the tentacle?"
Eben joined her, looking down into the circle of water. "So I'm to go back?"
"Now you can add surviving a kraken's belly to your reputation." She smiled up at him. "As soon as we've docked, I'll ask Mary to fly me out to Vesuvius."
Thank God. The six-week knot of frustration and dread that had built up in him suddenly unwound. He nodded and stepped to the edge of the hatch. Ivy's voice w
as the last thing he heard before the waters closed over his head.
"I'll see you soon, Captain."
She'd missed him.
Since Mary had flown her out to Vesuvius in the two-seater balloon, Ivy hadn't left Eben's side. For weeks, she'd feared something terrible had happened, and had forced herself to keep busy rather than dwell on the worst.
She'd loved showing him what she'd done. She remained with him throughout the day, telling him everything she'd seen on Anglesey, all of the ideas she had for new automatons and machines. He spoke as little as usual, but she could tell that he'd enjoyed being with her.
And she could tell that something was wrong. That there was something new about him--a certain distance, as if he were looking at her through biperspic lenses and seeing her in a new way. It made her nervous, and so she only talked more and more.
By the end of the day, anxiety had taken up residence in her stomach, made worse when he left her alone to wash and prepare for sleep. Now she waited in the bed, her heart pounding, and every passing second felt like another week of not knowing where he was.
She came up on her knees when he returned to the cabin. He smiled when he saw her, but his expression darkened when his gaze fell to her hand, fingers loosely curled to conceal the small package in her palm.
"No." He strode toward the bed, pulling off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. "No more money between us, Ivy. You have my word that I won't take you too far--and you'll trust me on that alone."
"It's not--"
His mouth cut off the rest. Oh, blue--she'd missed this, too. Lifting to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her lips to his kiss and moaning at the first, heady taste. Relief and hunger roughened Eben's answering groan. He dragged her nightgown up her legs and filled his hands with her bare backside, kneading in time to the thrust of his tongue.
Ivy's head swam. One kiss chased away every thought, and it wasn't until she buried her fingers in his hair and felt the crinkle of parchment against her palm that she recalled what she'd tried to tell him.
With effort, she tore her mouth away. She held him in place with her hands in his hair, preventing him from lowering his head to hers again. Chest heaving, she tried to catch her breath.
"It's not a coin," she managed between pants. She brought her right hand down, opening her fingers. "I looked through your drawers until I found one. I'm sorry I didn't ask, but I wanted to surprise you."
She'd managed that, at least. He stared down at the square oiled-parchment envelope, the red wax seal broken when she'd glanced inside to confirm the contents. The sheath had been shockingly thin, but pliable, and prepared with clear oil infused with a light fragrance that had reminded her of freshly cut oak.
Eben's burning gaze rose to search her face. "You're certain?"
Her heart pounding, Ivy nodded. And though she was certain, she still had to fight to keep her voice steady. "I built a kraken, Eben. Surely I can support a child, no matter where I go when I leave Vesuvius. So this is a risk I'm willing to take."
His face seemed to pale. "Where do you intend to go?"
"Since our agreement was that you'd take me home after I fixed the kraken, I'll return to Fool's Cove, first." And she'd promised Netta that she'd come back. Perhaps her friend would like to leave that small town with her. "After that, I don't know."
She didn't want to think beyond that time. Weeks ago, Eben had told her the return voyage would take twenty days. Those days were all she could focus on now. She'd missed him so much, even knowing he would come back. She couldn't imagine how deep the ache would be when she couldn't look forward to his return.
Eben's throat worked as if he had to force himself to swallow. His gaze fell to the sheath again, and a bleak expression moved across his face. Ivy only had a moment to wonder about it before determination firmed his mouth. "Alright, then. Hold on, Ivy."
He gripped the bed rail and hauled back. Ivy grasped his shoulders for support as the mattress suddenly jolted forward several feet. She heard the clacking of gears from inside the platform beneath the bed, and when she glanced back, saw a second mattress rising into the space he'd made.
No, not a second mattress--it was the other half of the bed. Her mouth dropped open.
She whipped around to face him. "All this time?"
"Yes." He yanked off his left boot, tossed it to the floor. He hesitated after he pulled off the right, and glanced up at her. "Do you want me to keep my leg covered?"
Oh, heavens. Wordlessly, Ivy held up her metal hands. A smile softened the corners of his mouth. He pressed a kiss to her fingers before cupping her nape and coming in for a long taste of her lips. A moan worked up through her throat, and her need built with each hot stroke of his tongue. Tugging his shirt from his breeches, she rediscovered muscles too long unexplored by her hands.
Her nails scraped over his chest. Eben broke their kiss, his lips tracing a path over her jaw. Heat seared her nerves as he nipped the tender skin above her guild tattoo, soothed it with a lick. She cried out in surprise as he dipped his head to her breast and suckled strongly through the thin nightgown. Her hands shook; her head fell back. The world seemed to spin about, her body the center. Then his right hand skimmed up her inner thigh, and the center shifted and contracted to the rough glide of his skin, the bold caress through her slick folds, the press of his fingers against her entrance. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
He lifted his head and his dark gaze locked on hers. "You'll take me, Ivy. First like this. And when you're ready, you'll take all of me."
"Yes." Anticipation shivered across her skin. "I'm ready now."
"Are you?"
His gaze didn't leave her face as his fingers curled into her. Delicate flesh yielded to his penetration, sending ripples of pleasure beneath her skin. Ivy gasped, her hips rocking forward, her eyes glazing. Oh, blue heavens. This was . . . so good.
And not enough. "More."
Eben groaned her name, burying his face in her neck. His fingers stroked deep and slow. "This first time won't go easy. I want you to come like this, so you'll enjoy at least part of it."
She'd love all of it, even if it hurt. But this didn't. Ecstasy was quickly unwinding through her, twisting and loosening with each pump of his hand. She barely felt the slide of cotton down her arms. Then he licked her nipple and all that she could feel was his tongue and his strong fingers, pushing her higher. With a gruff sound of pleasure, he sucked the taut peak into his mouth, his thumb caressed the swollen bud of her sex and she was there, shaking and clenching--and ready for more.
Her hands dove to the front of his breeches. A strangled noise came from his throat, something like Wait, but her nimble fingers had already unfastened the buttons and found him, thick and hot in her palms.
"Ivy--"
He broke off as her fingers slid over the wide tip, spreading the drop of his seed. Her gaze lifted to his. "Come into the bed now. Come into me."
His throat worked. "Yes."
At his rough reply, she scooted back, pushing the nightgown past her hips and kicking it away. Eben shoved his breeches down and looked up at her. His gaze stilled on her legs, jumped to her breasts, and fell to the curls between her thighs before rising to her face.
"You take my breath, Ivy."
And he would make her cry if he didn't stop that. Reaching forward, she drew him to her--skin to skin, for the first time. He lay at her side, his mouth finding hers, his hands stroking her back toward the edge. She trembled with need as he unwrapped the sheath, smoothing it over his heavy shaft. Finally, he settled between her spread thighs, elbows braced beside her shoulders, and looked down at her.
Sweat sheened his skin, dark gold by the light of the gas lamp. He brushed a stray hair back from her forehead. "Tell me if it becomes too painful. I swear to God, I'll stop."
She could feel him, the blunt tip wedged between her slick folds. Anticipation was driving her insane. "I ache now."
His mouth lowered to hers. "Th
en take me."
The muscles in his back flexed beneath her hands. Pressure built at her entrance, followed by tearing pain. By the starry sky--it did hurt. Biting back a scream, she turned her head, squeezing her eyelids shut. Eben gently kissed her cheeks and her lips; his cock split her in half below. He murmured her name, sipping away the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. And still he drove deeper, until she felt as if a heated piston had been grafted inside her.
He finally stopped, his hips pinning hers and her thighs open wide, the weight of his upper body supported on his forearms. "Ivy?"
She couldn't look at him. Only moments before, she'd begged for this. Now she just wanted him to get on with it and then get off her.
"Have you finished?"
"No." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "We'll wait a few minutes while your bugs heal you up around me. You won't have to go through that again."
"Good." The burning pain had faded. Now she was just full. She couldn't decide if it was uncomfortable or not--but she definitely didn't like this.
She could see that Eben liked it, though. His breathing was quick and shallow, the muscles in his chest and arms straining with the effort of keeping still. Beneath her hands, his nanoagents raced like fire, sparking across his nerves. His heart pounded. Experimentally, she lifted her hips.
Though she only managed to nudge him, his reaction was everything she could have hoped. He sucked in a sharp breath, his spine bowing as he jerked upward. His hands fisted beside her head. As if gratified by his response, her inner muscles clung to him when he began to withdraw.
"No, Ivy. Wait until--"
Her fingers digging into his firm ass, she hauled him back. The impact rocked Ivy to her toes, little ripples that seemed to reverberate in the slick channel hugging his length. Eben shouted in surprise and pleasure, his head falling forward, teeth clenching. A deep groan tore from him.
"I can't, love . . . I can't--Ah, God. I'm sorry. I have to--" Muscle bunched beneath her palms. He rose above her, bracing his left hand beside her shoulder and sliding his right hand between them, the tip of his middle finger brushing her clitoris. "I'll try . . . to go slow."
He pulled back. Ivy stiffened, preparing herself--and wishing he'd go fast. If he finished quickly, then she could . . . she could . . . Oh, blue heavens. He pushed into her, and though his thick length stuffed her too full, the stretch wasn't painful, and the movement of his finger flicked little sparks into her belly, a fire building higher and higher.