Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2) (32 page)

The cavalry charged across the field. Their horses kicked up clods of earth.

The treetops trembled. Pines shivered as black insects swarmed over their boughs. The immense swarm took flight and buzzed toward the soldiers. They passed over the Russians and descended on the Germans.

One of the insects pinged off the automaton’s cockpit. A clockwork wasp.

The devious mechanical insects attacked. They plunged their stingers into the skin of men and horses alike. The German infantry broke ranks, swatting at the wasps, and the elite Prussian cavalry panicked completely.

Ardis had no hope of fighting enemies so small. There had to be hundreds of wasps. They ricocheted off the automaton’s steel as they hunted less armored victims. Behind the German ranks, the clockwork dragon crawled to its feet. It flattened its ruined wings and scuttled toward the soldiers with alarming speed.

Ardis watched the chaos from above. Adrenaline flooded her blood.

The Russians charged down the ridge. Invulnerable to the wasps, they slaughtered the Germans where they stood. The dragon gutted, beheaded, and mutilated men. This wasn’t a battle. This was a massacre.

Fear gripped Ardis in its fist. She could retreat. She could run away and could save herself—save her unborn baby.

But if she ran, Königsberg was lost. And they were all dead.

Ardis clenched her jaw and shook her head, hard, to clear her thoughts. The wireless telegram beeped frantically, though she had no clue what it meant. She knew only that she had to try salvaging this defeat into survival.

She had her orders. Kill the dragon.

The clockwork chased down men as they fled. Ardis sprinted to meet her opponent. She crushed a dead man underfoot, his bones crunching like a bug. She had less than a second to realize it, and no time at all to feel.

The dragon whirled to meet the Colossus.

Ardis focused on her goal. She let the dragon lash out and rake its claws down the automaton’s chest. She rammed her metal hand under its neck and flipped it onto its back. The dragon writhed on crumpled wings.

She threw herself onto the dragon and drove her elbow against its throat. It struggled and snapped, its teeth inches from her face, but Ardis bore down with all the weight of the Colossus. With her left arm, she punched the dragon in the jaw and knocked it back. She glanced at the steel plates armoring its chest.

Damn it, they looked impenetrable.

If she got out of this godforsaken mess alive, she was going to have a word with Konstantin about his impractical plans.

The dragon surged beneath Ardis and bit the right arm of the Colossus. The dragon shook it savagely, its fangs digging into the steel, wrenching the automaton’s wires and pneumatics. Ardis felt her steel exoskeleton start to buckle.

If she didn’t act fast, the dragon would tear off the automaton’s arm—and her arm with it.

Gritting her teeth, Ardis found a crack in the dragon’s chest and wedged the automaton’s fingers between the armor. Her fingertips slipped, and she scrabbled for a better grip. Sweat poured down her face. Pain screamed through her muscles. Ardis pried open the dragon’s chest and tore off the plate of armor.

The dragon’s scream sounded almost human.

In the dragon’s ribcage, incredibly intricate clockwork ticked and whirred, oil for blood. A ruby crystal glowed at its heart.

Ardis reached between the dragon’s ribs and closed her hand around the crystal.

A jolt of magic travelled up the automaton’s arm and shivered over her skin. She sucked in a breath, then tore out the dragon’s heart.

The crystal darkened. The clockwork dragon collapsed in the mud, its eyes flickering out, its jaws gaping like those of a dead fish washed onto the beach. Trembling, Ardis climbed from the dragon’s body with the crystal in her fist. She raised it to the USS
Jupiter
, proof that she had killed this destroyer of airships at last.

From the gondola of the airship, Tesla leaned out from a window. He waved at Ardis, and she waved back. But his arm moved more frantically. The wireless telegraph continued beeping inside the cockpit, and—

A shockwave of blue-white light exploded from the USS
Jupiter
.

The wireless telegraph went dead silent. All the clockwork wasps fell from the air, and the Colossus fell with them.

Ardis strained against the automaton, but she had no control over its massive metal limbs. The Colossus dropped to its knees and swayed like a drunk. It balanced for a second, then plummeted facedown onto the field.

The crash deafened Ardis. Her scream sounded muffled in her ears.

Dirt darkened the outside of the cockpit. Ardis twisted and saw a sliver of sky beyond the glass. Sweat stung her eyes. She blinked and contorted in the cockpit, wrenching her arms and legs from the automaton’s shell. If she could break through the glass, she had a chance of escaping from the cockpit alive.

A man’s face leaned over the muddy cockpit. He shattered the glass with the hilt of his sword, then held out his hand.

“Oh, thank God,” Ardis said.

Soldiers reached into the cockpit and pried her from the automaton. She staggered to her feet, her knees shaking, her ears ringing.

“Thank you,” Ardis said. “I—”

The soldiers around her were Russian. They stared at her with blatant hostility.

Slowly, Ardis raised her hands in surrender.

A Russian soldier shouted at Ardis and waved his sword at her throat.

“I don’t understand you,” she said.

A soldier grabbed her arm and flung her onto the ground. She spat dirt and crawled to her knees. She wasn’t the type to cower.

The Russians glanced between each other, and she recognized that look.

Who would have the pleasure of killing her?

In that instant, Ardis wished she had seen Wendel one last time. She wished their last conversation could be something—anything—else.

But it was too late for that. She didn’t see a way out of dying.

“
Grok
!”

The wind carried a raven’s croak.

Another Russian joined them, his uniform blood-soaked. He lifted his sword and stabbed his comrade through the back. The betrayed Russian stared at the blade in his chest, then crumpled in the dirt at Ardis’s knees.

The other Russians backed away from the turncoat. Ardis saw his dead eyes before she saw the necromancer who controlled him.

Wendel.

He arrived with his own army of the dead, an entourage of unbreathing soldiers, and a raven winging over his head.

“Kill the Russians,” Wendel said.

The dead men did as the necromancer commanded. Wendel strode through the bodies and the blood and stopped by Ardis. He grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet, then embraced her so tightly it left her breathless.

“Wendel,” she said.

“Ardis.” He looked her in the eye. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she said.

She meant to add that she was more than a little bruised, but he kissed her with such sweet ferocity that she could think of nothing but kissing him harder. They shared an instant together where the world disappeared.

“Get me out of here,” Ardis aid.

“Gladly,” Wendel said.

Without asking, he swept Ardis into his arms and carried her from the battlefield.

~

Wendel didn’t put down Ardis until they walked into Königsberg. Then he took her hand and brought her to the cathedral.

“Sanctuary,” he said, by way of explanation.

Ardis didn’t tell him some men had no respect for all that was holy.

They sat together on the pew, their hands clasped between them. Stained glass windows transmuted the sunlight into a faded rainbow.

“Where were you?” Ardis said.

“With Wolfram.” Wendel looked at his hands. “After what you said, I thought that I should be there for him.”

She swallowed past the ache in her throat. “I should have never said that.”

“It hurt,” he said, “because you were right.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She tightened her fingers around his hand. “Your family has treated you so badly. You deserve better.”

Wendel’s laugh was soft and broken. “Do I?”

“You deserve an apology from me. Forgive me?”

“If you have forgiven me for everything, it’s the least I can do.” He looked at her through his eyelashes. “Trust me?”

“If the vampire wasn’t your fault, then yes, I trust you.”

Wendel’s face tightened, and Ardis poked him in the ribs to show him she was joking.

“I promised not to touch opium,” he said, “and I promise not to touch vampires.”

“Not even to try your necromancy?”

He hesitated, and she poked him again.

“Not unless absolutely necessary,” he said.

All the bells of the cathedral began to ring. Their chimes echoed under the high ceiling. Goosebumps rushed over Ardis.

“Is it a warning?” she said.

“Maybe we won,” Wendel said.

She raised her voice over the clamor. “Maybe we lost.”

“After you defeated the clockwork dragon?”

“They outnumber us two to one.”

Wendel arched an eyebrow. “That’s rather bleak. I doubt we survived this long only to die at the hands of Russian soldiers.”

“Why not?”

“I prefer to think I will have a grandiose obituary,” he said airily.

Wendel stood from the pew and took her hand. Together, they walked from Königsberg Cathedral and stepped into the light.

Townspeople crowded on the streets. Their faces looked bright with excitement.

“Excuse me,” Wendel said, “but what the hell is going on?”

A man grinned at him. “The Russians are retreating!”

Wendel tilted his head with a silver of a smile.

“See?” he said.

Ardis sighed. Wendel’s smile widened, and he swept her into his arms again.

“I can walk, you know,” she said.

“I know.”

He carried her for a block or two, until she started laughing, and he set her on her feet.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Wendel said.

Ardis swallowed another laugh. “No, thank you.”

“But my reputation as a gentleman is at stake.”

“You already saved me from the Russians.” She touched her wrist to her forehead. “My knight in shining armor.”

He snorted. “I’m not wearing any armor.”

“I’d like to see you not wearing anything.”

Wendel’s eyes glinted, and he grabbed her hand. He led her to the doors of their hotel and almost hauled her upstairs.

“Slow down,” Ardis said, breathless.

Wendel fished the key from his pocket and pantomimed unlocking the door very, very slowly. He kept a straight face.

Ardis laughed. “Don’t be evil.”

“I think you like it when I’m evil.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think you’re secretly too good for that. You’re quite
nice
.”

“Nice?” Wendel feigned a gasp. “Heaven forbid.”

“You should work on your bastard skills. You’re losing touch.”

“Never.”

Wendel swung open the door, hooked his hand behind her waist, and swept her into the room. She escaped from him and fell back on the bed. The day weighted down her bones. A long sigh shuddered from her lungs.

“We made it,” she said.

He smirked. “It would have been quicker if you let me carry you.”

“No,” she said. “We’re alive.”

Wendel’s smirk faltered, and he kicked off his boots.

“Alive, but filthy,” he said. “Come bathe with me.”

That sounded wonderful. While Wendel ran the bath, Ardis peeled away every layer of her clothes. The more naked she became, the more vulnerable she felt. They hadn’t finished their conversation in the cathedral.

Naked, Ardis walked into the bathroom. Wendel knelt by the tub, his wrist under the tap. He glanced over his shoulder, and the heat in his eyes smoldered. He straightened, one eyebrow cocked, and unbuttoned his shirt. Blood flecked the white cotton, and she wondered how many he had killed on the battlefield. She wondered if he felt proud for saving Königsberg. If he did, his face showed no indication.

“After you,” Wendel said, with a lazy wave at the bathtub.

Ardis stepped into the water and let it rise to her calves. She lowered herself to the bottom and tucked her knees to her chest. The heat of the bath soaked into her sore muscles and left her feeling delightfully drowsy.

“Where do we go from here?” Ardis said.

Wendel stripped off the last of his clothes and knelt by the tub. He dangled his arm over the edge of the porcelain and brushed his fingertips through the water, back and forth. His green eyes looked contemplative.

“Where would you like to go?” he said.

Ardis rubbed her knees. “I don’t want to fight another battle like the last.”

Wendel’s hand drifted along her arm. He stopped on her shoulders, then started to massage her back. His fingers worked out the knots in her muscles. She closed her eyes and sighed blissfully at his touch.

“You’re so good at this,” Ardis said. “Yet another one of your talents.”

Wendel laughed, though sadness betrayed his voice.

“You frightened me today,” he said.

Somehow the soft way he said it clenched her chest all that much harder. She curled her hands, her fingernails biting into her palms.