A Tale of Two Airships (Take to the Skies Book 2) (2 page)

Though she didn’t talk about him much, her ex-husband had cut quite a brutal mark onto her psyche, one that remained.

“You sure you don’t want me to meet him? I’m told I can be quite the charmer,” I said. Isabella laughed. I gripped the ledge of the ship and stared out at the expanse beyond, which comprised of all sweeping strokes of robin’s egg blue and clouds blooming across the horizon. So close to Britain. While we weren’t on the best of terms with the British military, they also didn’t loiter around the mud-splatter sections of town. And we, as officially dubbed airship pirates, always went to the shady side of town.

While we’d had a couple of years since the nightmare dealing with Morlocks, redcoats, and Jensen, trouble trailed on the quick wind. When you live with it daily, the errant breeze raising goosebumps, the gray clouds on the horizon, and the heaviness in the air—all of them indicate warning signs.

Me, I was trash at following signs. Better at fumbling ahead until I found something to shoot. My fingers curled into the weathered wood ledge underneath my palms. A telltale wind cut through the thickened air with those dark clouds smacking me in the face with a warning. The gypsies were up to something, sure, but if our luck proved an indicator, it wouldn’t be anything harmless or simple. No, if the gypsies wanted us in their grips, it meant we had one hell of a storm in our horizon. As the first of the booms in the distance shook the skies, I jogged towards navigation bay.

Time to batten down and ready the storm sails.

Chapter Two

I strapped my beloved pistol Matilda to my hip, holster and all, and made sure my armored corset buckled tight. Beside me, Mordecai adjusted the handle of his longsword so it didn’t protrude, and he smoothed down his cuffs, which I knew contained alchemical bombs for cuff-links. He wouldn’t leave without his long sweeping trench to hide his weapons from view. Isabella slipped daggers in the space between her chemise and bodice, into the hem of her skirt, and of course had one for each boot. After all, the girl’s greatest asset was stealth. Jack patted down his pistol at his side, the one he’d been awarded the day we took him on as one of our recon team. He’d been so proud when he received the thing I swore he slept with it.

Wind blew my curls past my shoulder, and I squinted to battle the bright mid-day sun. In the distance lay Shantytown, a location I’d only been to once—in the past, Morris avoided any British locale due to his long held grudge. Ex-soldiers had very long memories. Me? Our ship needed a payday.

The rafters of the airship docks appeared in view, more like matchsticks than timber and not inspiring the greatest confidence. Docks like these, our men had to keep watch with our guns at ready in case of boarders. These were the sections where shoot first, ask later reigned.

Spade stood at the helm, accompanied by Adelle who had created a perch for herself by his side. She leaned towards him to give him the occasional direction shift, and the wind tried to tug strands from the constant braid she began wearing once she realized how ferocious the winds became up in the skies. Spade pointed to the aether manipulator below, and she hopped down before going to work with an assuredness about her I never expected from the bruised and cowering girl we once took aboard. Together, they guided us into the port.

The Desire descended, and a slight bump shook the ship as we glided onto the water, heading straight for the space between rafters.

Geoff’s presence behind me announced itself before he even spoke. His long shadow gave him away, and even more so the cinnamon breeze confirmed it—he couldn’t quit chewing those damn sticks. His arms slipped around as he pulled me into a tight embrace. I leaned back into it, indulging in his warmth for a moment as our bodies connected.

“I see how it is. Fall into the arms of any stranger, will you?”

Turning around, I draped my arms around his neck. “Obviously. I’d never get laid otherwise.”

His crooked smile made my heart skip a beat every time. “Be careful.” His chestnut eyes held all of his seriousness inside. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Me neither.” I let out a sigh. “I’m waiting for the day we’re independently wealthy and don’t have to worry about these types of missions.”

He snorted. “You’d be bored in a heartbeat.”

I grinned. “Got that right, boy-o. Keep the midnight oil burning for me.” I stood on my toes and planted a kiss on his lips, basking in the shiver coursing through me. All those years of dodging around this—I’d been damned stupid. Even the thrill of danger fell short in comparison to the fires he lit inside. I wasn’t used to having someone I missed as much as Geoff. Throwing myself into outmatched fights and powderkeg situations used to be effortless before all this responsibility to him and my crew. Now I fretted over the stupidest details before tossing the whole well-constructed plan out the window. Though, some things never changed. I’d do anything to protect my home and family. Anything.

Several of the crew loitered topdeck, awaiting orders. Now that we were landed, Spade made his way to our team. He’d be purchasing whatever he and Seth needed to keep our girl running steady while the rest of us dangled ourselves into danger. Even though Geoff could and should be doing the recon missions in my stead, I had better aim, and he had more of the level head for people management. Besides, I’d grown greedy for field time. If I had to stay aboard this ship any longer, I’d ram us into port to find ourselves some trouble.

“One quick meeting with the contact and we’ll be back,” I announced.

“What’re we waiting for?” Isabella winked and with a fluid motion began climbing down the ladder towards the dock. Her tan ringlets gleamed in the sun as well as the metal hoops in her ears and the silver circles jangling around her wrists. Before following, I inventoried the weapons and coinpurse weighing down my belt. No time like the present.  

“Be back soon.” I locked eyes with Geoff.

He groaned, a gorgeous half smirk on his face. “Don’t you dare jinx it, Bea.”

Grabbing him by the back of the neck, I tugged him forward for one last kiss. With the sweet taste still stinging my lips, I flashed him another blinder of a grin before following Isabella. The rope bit into my palms, and the sun beat against my back, warming my skin. Damn, the day was beautiful. The sea breeze rolling through the place kicked around the scent of rotten fish, an instant reminder of where we’d berthed. Good old Shantytown, home of rat piss and even worse, Brits.

I sucked in the foul air, stepping onto the weathered boards of this old port with a creak. These areas were cluttered with the same filth and dirty napkins as our criminal gems, key difference being their posh accents. And manners. A shudder rolled down my spine.

Granted, the places we’d be going, I doubted we’d see much of the genteel life. I preferred avoiding them anyway. Redcoats pissed me off, and the stuffy rich folks who populated this country made me want to hurl. Almost as much as the extravagant assholes on our side of the ocean. We were meeting our contact at the Rusty Scupper though, and from what I’d heard the joint landed us in familiar ol’ dive bar territory.

Matilda weighed down my side as she should, and I tapped my foot on the planks while waiting for the rest of the crew to hurry along. Mordecai snuck past me on the docks—the man placed stealth into a whole new category—and so we just waited on Jack and Spade. Our newbie took his time finding each meticulous handhold while none of us had the heart to tell him it didn’t matter.

“Darling, I’m sure the ladies love the way you give every detail that much attention, but we’re waiting down here,” Isabella called to Jack, who flushed in embarrassment and almost fumbled. I pressed my lips together, holding back my laugh. He scurried the rest of the way down, and Spade followed with ease.

The folks by the rail waved us off, and I caught a wink from Geoff. I heaved a sigh as the harbormaster raced up to me with a clipboard in hand—even the menial jobs became mine when Morris passed, including all the money handling. One more reason Geoff happened to be the perfect first mate. The short, weasly harbormaster barely reached my shoulders, and his sour frown was infectious. I swiped my card, dispensing the necessary credits and tried to ignore the small number of the balance on the holo.

“Let’s get going. Sooner we meet with the contact, the sooner we can get this job underway.” Even in the broad sunlight, I kept my hand at the ready to jump to my pistol or my coin purse. Never knew what sort of rabble wandered through the streets, and I didn’t trust these dented and split cobblestones any more than I trusted my hometown’s.

“I’ll meet back here later.” Spade’s brows knotted together as he nodded farewell and set a quick pace. Within seconds, he made his way down the boardwalk towards the first wooden shop signs peeking into view.

I followed the same path, leading the rest of my team past the line-up of ships. As we strolled by a small vessel with the word ‘Fireswamp’ printed on the side, folks glared at us from the rails. Their crew had been on the bounty list for a while now, however, we weren’t here to cause problems for pirates like us. My plan entailed a simple job and simple reward with minimal trouble. While I’d never heard of our contact, Grenadine Sommelier, before, we’d verified the source, and the offered bounty flashed some pretty figures. Both of which made me take the bait, but the second Geoff strapped gypsy to the statement, the job reeked worse than Edwin’s cooking.

Mordecai and Isabella strolled along in the lead while I lingered behind, keeping an eye to the shadowed alleys and my crew. Jack didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, so he instead overdid it by scowling at everyone and jumping at the slightest sound. Overall, he was rather precious.

I wanted to pull my hair out regardless. Why would the gypsies be crawling out of the woodwork to claim Isabella now? It didn’t make any sense. She’d been with us for years, and they’d never come calling, which made the letter they sent even shadier. I grew up on the cynical side of the streets, and after placing my trust in the wrong people over more recent years, the little bit left had chipped from slate to gravel.

Shouts echoed through these streets, even at this time of day, and ladies wearing bonnets peddled their baked goods in one stand while a chap tried to push his jewelry on any passersby despite the storefronts open right behind them. Dappled sunlight cast gorgeous rays across the mud-splattered cobblestones and highlighted the broken bottles and crumpled papers littering the grounds. This section of town most folks walked through, and in the distance I caught the translucent barrier of a sub-bus depot. In fancier necks of the wood, we’d be dodging automated carriages and whatnot.

The back of my neck prickled as we passed the nearby alley doused in shadow from the lofty buildings side by side. A shift in the darkness drew my attention before the glint of a blade ever did.

Matilda was out and cocked less than a heartbeat later. The tip of the blade made it close, but I squeezed the man’s wrist hard. Letting out a low grunt, he dropped it, and the metal clattered to the ground.

“Sorry peaches, I’m no slouch.” I pressed the end of my pistol to the man’s temple.

Though two more men hurtled out of the alleyway, I didn’t blink an eye. Mordecai and Isabella crouched in wait, hands already moving to their weapons. Knives flew from Isabella’s adept hands, pinning the one guy to the wall. Before he wriggled away, she’d already marched straight up to him and slammed her forearm against his throat. Smart girl, because with my increasing levels of paranoia, I wanted to have a little chat with these men. Mordecai didn’t bother following similar procedure, and instead, where his blade sliced, blood followed.

“Come on,” I exclaimed, my gaze never leaving the pissed off thug I pointed Matilda at. “This is why we don’t have nice things. Bloodstains everywhere we go. I’ve ruined at least a dozen shirts in the past year and given up wearing cream.”

“Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with your penchant for making messes,” Mordecai responded, his tone dry as he wiped his blade on the jacket of the dead man. A couple gazes flickered our way but no screams of horror. Still, handling dead bodies midday never boded well for anyone—we needed to at least move this to the shade of the alley. Jack leapt in to the rescue, grabbing the hands of the fresh corpse and tugging him towards the cramped corridor.

“So, I find this a difficult coincidence that the three of you would be waiting for our lil ol’ well-armed group.” Isabella’s eyes narrowed even though her tone never shifted from too-calm. “Either you’re spectacular idiots for a street gang, or you were waiting for us the entire time.”

Between Jack and Mordecai, they hid the dead man before I blinked, and I tugged on the wrist of my captive, edging him towards his friend’s resting place in the alley that had become our business office. No one in their right mind would come investigate here, and from the looks of it, the authorities didn’t tromp through often. Better for us anyway.

“Now, a young fellow like yourself wouldn’t want to end up same way as your partner there, right?” I cocked the hammer of my gun, waiting on a response. Up close and personal like this, a couple details jumped out, ones I might’ve missed from a distance, or hell, while fending off attackers. First, the tendrils of a tattoo wove along his forearms in a brownish, henna ink, and the symbols looked all too familiar, a line piercing through two arcs and interspersed with two dots. I’d seen the tattoo before, on Isabella’s ankle as the mark of her old clan. Two, the way he crouched, muscles taut and eyes wary, wasn’t the scared shitless I expected from a street punk. He’d paid his time on the streets, and given a chance, he’d seize it to escape.

“
Merde
,” Isabella cursed low, her eyes darkening. I’d already come to the same conclusion. “Who the hell sent you? Elder Anton’s got another thing coming if he thinks kidnapping me by force will get a favorable reaction.”

Though her forearm bit too far into the guy’s windpipe to warrant much of a reaction, I caught the fleeting smirk from my guy. His lips pursed together into a frown a second later, but I’d seen enough to draw my own conclusions. My paranoia had been well founded, which didn’t say much for our crew’s habit of diving face first into scalding water. Whatever gods we’d spit in the eyes of were enacting the worst sorts of revenge.

My impatience reared its ugly head. “Think her statement’s funny? While Isabella is quite the comedian, the lady wasn’t telling a joke.” I met eyes with Mordecai. “If they’re not going to talk, why waste time? After all, they’ve pretty much given away anything we need to know.”

He shrugged, and his eyes flattened, turning placid as he shifted into a stance reminding me of how he got his Shadow Ward nickname.

With cobra-quick reflexes, the gypsy stomped on my boot with his heel, using my surprise to wrench his wrist from my grip. Poor planning for him, because even though I’d been bluffing, Mordecai wasn’t. The longsword plunged through his chest before he took another step forward. The man gurgled and collapsed, crashing to the ground with a smack. Blood mixed with the packed earth, and several flecks spat onto my boot.