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Every citizen of Harrowport knows the sound of survival: the deafening roar of the perimeter steam sirens, whose acoustic shockwaves shatter the occult horrors creeping from the salt marshes. Della Vinson doesn't hear the sirens—years on the high-pressure boiler gang took her hearing—she feels them in the iron decking beneath her boots. But when the horn manifold's pressure plunges during the highest fog-tide of the century, Della discovers saboteurs have slaughtered her crew and jammed the steam conduits. With the defensive sound wall failing and amphibious hulks tearing through the outer sea-gates, Della is the only technician left on the high catwalks. To save the lower harbor, she must superheat a fractured boiler and fire the sirens past their breaking point, even if the blast shatters her bones.

I know how monsters look when stripped to bone and wire. What I don't know is why Count Zsigmond Csáky—gorgeous, aristocratic, and thoroughly undead—thinks someone in the imperial ministry has replaced the grand chancellor with a carrion mimic. Zsigmond needs my anatomical expertise to spot the imposter before the continental coronation; I need his supernatural speed to keep from being silenced by steam-cutter assassins. Trapped together in lavish ballrooms and reeking preservation vaults, our paranoid banter turns into a scorching, dangerous attraction. But in a court where every smile hides sharpened fangs and fake skin, falling for a vampire who suspects his own shadow might be the most lethal mistake I ever make.

On the razor-thin glass plates of the Prismatic Shards, steam-powered beacons guide void-skiffs through the dark. Ealasaid keeps the lenses polished, ignoring the urban legends about what lives behind the silvering. But when her reflection begins whispering to her in the boiler room, she meets Tighearnan—a haunting fae shifter whose body reshapes itself according to the desires and fears of those who look upon him. Tighearnan was sent to smash the beacons and plunge the human colonies into ruin, but Ealasaid’s sharp mind and unyielding gaze pierce straight through his illusions. In a world of steam, light, and deadly reflections, trusting a monster might be her only way home.

In a shattered solar system of floating tectonic islands and luminous nebulae, rogue salvager Juro and his eccentric crew race against industrial giants to strip a once-legendary martial empire. Wielding steam-skiffs and pressurized martial arts, they aim to plunder an ancient floating dojo suspended in the ruins. But the colossal rival sects crushing independent wanderers have their own eyes on the prize. To claim the artifact and outrun a warmongering fleet, Juro’s crew must battle gravity, steam, and steel, fighting for freedom in a fractured sky where the only law is breath and blade.

Nusa has one golden rule: don't touch live wires during an electrical storm. He is forced to break it when he finds Sela, a tempest-shifter with electric-blue wings, treating the continental telegraph network as her personal snack buffet. When an industrial power cartel rolls out steam-powered condenser engines designed to harvest every drop of storm-magic from the sky, Sela's clan faces extinction. Since Nusa is the only person on the continent whose skin can ground her volatile static shocks without bursting into flames, she ropes him into an airborne sabotage mission across five nations. Surviving the high-voltage sabotage is hard enough, but resisting their wildly electric mutual attraction proves downright impossible.

The Spine Line is supposed to unite the continent of Pumasuyu. Instead, it's killing the people trying to build it — and staging the bodies in the mud to look like the work of the River Clans standing in its way. Imasha Qhorillay, the railway's most driven—and most exhausted—engineer, wants hard physical proof before the Compact declares a profitable war. Tawri Sankaillu, the Clans' sharpest treaty-scout, wants the truth before her people are slaughtered for a crime they didn't commit. Forced into an uneasy, increasingly tender alliance neither of their commanders will ever forgive, the pragmatic surveyor and the literal-minded diplomat follow a trail of distinctly manufactured blasting powder toward a conspiracy that wants the war far more than either nation does. Love, scorched earth, and a meticulously forged crime scene await.

Aboard the great coal-burning zeppelin *Kurogane*, Kazuki attends to the whims of the wealthy as they drift across toxic planetary cloud decks. His gift is simple: he smells every lie, every spike of terror, and every drop of venom in the circulating air. That is how he knows the reclusive countess in Suite Nine is no mortal passenger. Shizuka is a mist-vampire, an uncanny entity that feeds on the emotional exhalations of dying men. When her nocturnal hunting trips trip the ship's pneumatic scrubbers, Kazuki should raise the alarm. Instead, her cool, intoxicating presence brings peace to his overstimulated mind. But in the thin air between worlds, desire is as volatile as steam.