A Taste of Hot Steam
By Riley Owens
Erotic Flights of Fantasy
A Taste of Hot Steam
Riley Owens
Copyright ImagineThat! Studios 2012
Published by ImagineThat! Studios at Smashwords
It was only necessary to kill a handful of men to secure the future. As Crispin stood under the shadow of the gargoyle on the rooftop, he reminded himself of that reality. He flicked the first of several levers on the side of his goggles and the distant townhouse came into focus. Now it was his turn to take up the mantle of defender.
Crispin had sat on his father’s knee and listened to stories of Guild assassins and how he had saved the world from the horrors of electricity. The first had been easy—Franklin had been killed in his youth nearly two hundred years before this moment.
Crispin had grown up and wanted to make that much of a difference. Protect those things he held dear. For Queen and for the Guild.
As he adjusted the spread of wings strapped to his back, he realized soon enough he would get that chance. He flicked his goggles back to normal magnification. Through them Paris’ cityscape twinkled. The only light was from the moon and the umber glow of gaslight that lined the streets. All was as it should be. Bought up within the Engineering Guild since he was young, he was sure of himself, his mission and ready for action. Well that was what he told himself.
Yet he wasn’t a complete fool. His skin was goose pimpled and his hands shaking even as they clenched tightly on the controls of his aetherider.
Three other assassins had been sent to kill Nikolai. None of them had returned, and the Chief of the Guild was beginning to wonder if the future would be lost to them.
So when Crispin, the newest member had offered to try where so many had failed, though he had no assassination experience to speak of, he had been given the opportunity. They had nothing to lose.
Nikolai was undoubtedly aware that his life was in danger. He was now beginning to conduct his illegal experiments behind high walls and with the protection of a patron.
Crispin checked the struts of the aetherider strapped to his back once more. He’d conducted numerously experiments in the safety of his lab in London, but this time was different. This time it was a little more important.
The aetherider flicked open with a reassuring snap. Then without further thought Crispin ran forward and leapt off the building. For a brief second, he was sure that he was about to be proved wrong in the worst possible way. And then the engine caught, and the propellant chambers lit. Now he was not falling—he was flying.
Paris whizzed by under him, and Crispin’s heart leapt. If it were not for the very dangerous situation he was speeding towards, he would have let out a whoop of delight. The sensation was delightful and heady. Now he had confirmation—he was a proper engineer.
As the roofs dropped away underneath him, Crispin clenched his teeth. Now he had to find out if the rest of his equipment functioned as well as the aetherider. The roof of the building was steep and surrounded by wrought iron decoration. He banked around it for a moment, girding himself to land. Choosing his moment, he flicked off the propellant chamber and dropped. The shock ran up his legs as he slipped, and Crispin had to scramble to grab a hold of the roof. All the time he was imagining Nikolai below: listening, preparing.