Read Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles) for Free Online Page B

away. The wolf peered up and circled his legs.
    Could she be alive? Injuries were possible though the seat should protect her on the way down. Of all the stupid ways to try escaping… Like a kettle about to boil, he felt the anger fume inside him, and closed his eyes. Calm. Serenity . Then the image of her broken and bleeding flashed to him. Anger and a tinge of worry bubbled up.
    No. Calm . He conjured up a blue stretch of still, cool water rolling endlessly toward a far, far distant shore. He exhaled, inhaled. No anger remained, just a set-in-fuckin’-concrete determination to make sure she didn’t do this again.
    The gyro burped a cloud of steam and black smoke.
    “Stay, machine. Do not explode yet. I need some bits and pieces.”
    The bolts on her seat had sheared away neatly. Deliberate for sure. Maybe she was dazed or something? Must be some good reason for her lunacy.
    “’Kay. Need to get a move on. Think you can find her, boy?” If anyone could, it’d be Cadrach. He bent, gave the beast a sniff of a nipple clamp. “Go find!” The wolf galloped off toward the tree line.
    Shotgun, sword, and haversack all recovered, sheathed, and strapped, he set off jogging after Cadrach.
    Seemed the lady was more crazy or strong-minded than he’d reckoned on. If…when he caught her again, assuming she was in one piece—he shoved away the other, nastier possibilities—he needed to figure out what to do. Such stubbornness rivaled his own. She’d only do this again. He’d take bets on it. Though—he grinned—anyone who’d blow themselves out of a gyrocopter while a hundred feet up, all in the name of going back to rescue your crew…well that deserved some kind of reward. What kind? Hmm. Something devious. Medals and pats on the back might only encourage her.
    At that thought, an image of Kaysana’s rounded behind came to mind. The idea of his hand connecting with her ass seemed mighty attractive all of a sudden.
    Something about this seemed off , as if maybe he liked her way more than he should. Sten fiddled with the strap of the haversack where it ran across his shoulder, hoisted it higher. Could this zomb thing be affecting him still? He rummaged through his memories—he’d always thought her damn sexy.
    Hell. What did it matter? As long as he didn’t break his own rules. As long as she was uninjured. He muttered a prayer under his breath. As long as whatever they did together was what they both wanted. Oh my God, I’m thinking of sex again. With her . Hard not to think of it. Impossible even. He gave in and let his imagination occupy him as he jogged. The feel of her body under his. My my my—unforgettable indeedy.
    He increased his pace. The grass crunched underfoot, his breaths rasped in his ears, yet over the noise, he heard something running up from behind. Ice tiptoed up his spine.
    Heavy footsteps.
    Whatever it is, it’s here.
    He dived forward, somersaulted, and swung around onto his knee while drawing the shotgun. The thing—a man with orange fire searing from his eye sockets, lunged for him with arms outstretched and yellow sparks dripping from his fingers.
    Yank once on the trigger.
    Blam.
    The fiery man sat down backward and tumbled, headless, to the earth. Grass crackled as fire caught here and there.
    Barrel trained on the twitching corpse, Sten approached, taking each step with care. The slightly shredded head rested a few feet from the body. The orange in the eyes faded and went to black. Stomping on the strange yellow fires put them out, though gray tendrils wavered lazily skyward. The acrid smoke hurt his nostrils, so he backed away, sneezed.
    With his telescope, he’d watched this zomb fall from the airship. Even at a distance the orange eyes had glared like pinpoint suns. Hadn’t told Kaysana—figured either the man was dead from the fall or sort of not dead. Fuck. Whichever. Another überzomb thingo, and it had been tracking them.
    He didn’t owe the world a lot. But then again, if