Kiss of Steel by Bec McMaster Read Free Book Online Page A

touching one of the Echelon’s cold metal drones. Did Honoria find the sensation disgusting? Other women had turned away from him in the past.
    He caught her around the waist before he could find out, and set her on her feet. She barely came up to his shoulder, and it felt as though there was more weight in the material of her full skirts and bustle than in her flesh.
    “Wait ’ere,” he told the driver, flipping him a bull.
    The boy looked down in surprise. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
    Honoria watched as the five shillings disappeared and the boy dragged the rickshaw out of the way. “That’s far more than what he earned.”
    “Aye.” Blade shrugged, then set his hand into the small of her back. “After you, milady.”
    The White Hart was tucked between two buildings. It was probably a good thing, for the roof was crooked, leaning drunkenly against the building on its right as though that was all that held it up. A gas lamp lit the coat of arms hanging over the door and gleamed on the glass windowpanes that formed the front.
    Inside, the room was in full roar. Timber panels with carved bas-relief lined the wall, and green leather booths offered a modicum of privacy. There was an embossed bronze panel—depicting a stag fleeing from hunters—over the bar, blackened by years of smoke from the enormous hearth in the corner.
    Honoria stopped and Blade almost stepped into her. The heat from her body shimmered in the inch between them. He drank it in. So warm. So full of life. He wanted to sink himself into her, drown in her heat. But then she was stepping forward, toward a narrow booth near the window.
    Blade caught the serving maid’s eye and jerked his head. The woman flushed a healthy pink that spread all the way down her throat, and he paused, watching as the blood flushed through her pale skin. For a moment the color faded and he was left with a world of gray again. It was enough for him to shake it off and follow Honoria.
    One of her eyebrows shot up. “See something you liked?”
    He slunk into the seat opposite her, their knees bumping. The plump serving maid bobbed toward them, her breasts threatening to spill out of her neckline. She was everything that Honoria was not; full of fleshy curves, with a healthy shine to her hair that spoke of rich meals and good health.
    “Yes,” he replied, watching Honoria’s lips thin. Was that jealousy in her eyes? Or cool disinterest? He couldn’t tell with her and it drove him crazy. Honoria could give a cardsharp a run for his money.
    “Well, don’t let me stop you,” she said.
    “I’ve already eaten,” he replied. He leaned closer. “Do you know what I see when I look at her?”
    “A pretty young woman who would be more than happy to be with you. Unlike certain others.”
    “Do you?” He took another look at the serving maid. “I s’pose she’s pretty enough. I ’adn’t noticed.”
    Honoria snorted. Then looked horrified at her poor manners.
    “I see blood. Flushin’ up ’er neck, runnin’ through ’er veins. ’Er skin’s pale enough to show ’em, almost blue beneath the surface. Like a map showin’ me where to go.”
    “Oh.”
    “But I don’t dabble with strangers,” he said, sitting back. “When I first saw the Ech’lon lords, with their blood slaves and thralls, I thought it barbaric. I understand now why they take ’em. Drinkin’ from thralls is safer. They knows what to expect and what not to do when I’m bang up with the ’unger. In return I make sure they’re well fed and sheltered, with enough coin to keep ’emselves as they wish. It suits ’em and it suits me.”
    “A very convincing argument. Do you tell that to them, or are they free to make up their own minds?” Heat flushed through her cheeks.
    “I ain’t ever taken an unwillin’ thrall. You ain’t got nothin’ to fear like that. Only if you wish it, luv. All you have to do is ask.”
    Honoria’s face paled and she tried to stand. He caught a handful of her