Steel Dominance Read Free

he given her that proved there might be spies here? None. There’d been that kerfuffle some months back and the assassination, but nothing since. Why would anyone watch her or Dankyo? They’d have to be suspicious already. Knowing what she’d heard of Dankyo, he was just being super conscientious and protective. Damn him.
    But… She heaved out a sigh. No matter how much she told herself she was brave, the man daunted her. And he’d said he would leave her behind. Risking his displeasure seemed unwise.
    She scrutinized the collar. Maybe she could meet him halfway? Well, nine tenths of the way.
    She shut her eyes and counted to ten. Getting changed took five minutes, summoning the courage to walk out into the airfield boarding area took another five. But she did it.
    As she walked back to Dankyo, she made sure to keep her gait businesslike. No swaying of hips, nothing feminine at all, yet every eye in the place seemed to center on her. She clutched to her chest her old clothes and the collar she’d not donned and prayed the outfit covered the essential bits.
    The pile of baggage had gone and only Dankyo remained. The line of his trousers suggested a person who liked order. The close cut of his black hair said military . And the flagrant regard of her figure as she approached, well, that rumbled male , through and through, all the way up her spine.
    She faltered. Her nipples tightened against the cool silk.
    He stared at the collar.
    “Can we skip the collar? I mean—”
    He shook his head. “No.” Then held out his hand. “Your clothes?”
    One day she’d get revenge for all this. She thrust the clothes at him, took a deep breath, and put on the collar. It didn’t feel so different. Just odd—like painting a target on herself.
    “Thank you.”
    “My other case?”
    “It arrived. I sent it on. Follow me a few feet behind.”
    She rolled her eyes, then trailed him out onto the landing field, feeling like some sort of lost puppy dog. The drone of passing gyrocopters and chug of pump engines drowned out sounds, but the salt tang in the air reminded her of the sand and waves beyond the perimeter fence.
    Every half minute she had to stop herself from adjusting the fit of the collar.
    She walked a bit faster to catch up to Dankyo.
    “Excuse me, but is all my luggage aboard?”
    Dankyo didn’t turn his head. “No. Most of it was wrong for a slave. You’ll find I kept the essential equipment of your profession and some toiletries but not much else.”
    She gaped. This seemed ridiculous. But Dankyo was the supposed expert. It would also be ridiculous of her to ignore his advice without more facts.
    “We’ll be lucky to get on board in any case. That much baggage would’ve gotten us grounded.”
    Anxiety flared again and gave her courage. All this pretending would be pointless if she couldn’t do her work when she got there. Sofia tapped hesitantly at his broad back with her finger. “Much of that was equipment. If you’ve left any—”
    He swiveled on his heel to face her, and she ran into his chest. “You must be smart, or you’d not be here. Use your brains. Slaves do not poke their owners.” His mahogany-brown eyes glared into hers. “Can you remember that?”
    And not snapping at him took effort. She sucked on her lip, then took three calming breaths. This close she could smell him—a mixed, earthy and bitter scent. Gun oil? Cordite? It reminded her of her dad and shooting cans off tree stumps. Back when things were good between them. She blinked, then sighed. “Can we talk, please, on board?”
    “Yes.”
    She searched his face and found blankness. Damn, as readable as the wrong side of a playing card.
    The midsized airship they headed for had a pale blue envelope with gold and black running wolves decorating the midline. At the bottom of the boarding ramp they met an Asian woman, Captain Kaysana Onomi, with her black hair perkily done up in a bun. Though she greeted them, a giant of a man called