Steamed (38 page)

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Authors: Katie Macalister

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Steamed
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“Aye,” Mr. Mowen said, and the others all nodded their agreement. “It’s time for a change.”
“Well, then. I guess we’ll have to consider what we wish to do, since we will all remain together.” I thought for a moment. “We could open up a boardinghouse somewhere. Or perhaps go into some sort of a trade, perhaps a shop of some form . . .”
“Pfft,” Hallie said, waving a hand. “Boardinghouse! Shop! Why don’t you just say what everyone wants you to say?”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “And what would that be?”
“Everyone knows you’re a whatchamacallit. Airship guy. Right? I mean, that’s why your airship corps won’t have you back? So do that! Boy, this gin is really good. I had no idea it could be so very yummy. Never drank the stuff back home.”
“There you go,” Jack said, smiling down at me. “You told the emperor you wished you really were an airship pirate. Well, sweetheart, here’s the perfect opportunity to be that.”
“You’re jesting,” I said, searching his face for signs he was pulling my leg.
He looked in all earnestness.
“Aye, that’s a right good idea,” Mr. Piper said, burping again. “Fetch me another pint, would ye, lad? Aye, Captain, there’s good money to be made in piratin’, they do say.”
“And easy pickings, what with the war and all,” Mr. Christian added, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down excitedly. His face paled suddenly. “I wouldn’t have to shoot anyone, would I?”
Mr. Piper patted him on the arm. “Nay, lad.”
Mr. Christian’s face cleared.
“We’ll put ye on the entrail-cleanup duty,” Mr. Piper added with a wicked glint to his eyes.
Mr. Christian keeled over.
“Piracy is illegal,” I pointed out to everyone as Mr. Mowen and Jack propped the unconscious chief officer against the brick wall. “I couldn’t do that. It would be wrong, morally wrong.”
“Sweetheart . . .” Jack took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Your Aerocorps already considers you a pirate for attacking the
Aurora
. The emperor has put a price on your head. The Black Hand is after your blood for refusing to help them. I don’t think you have a lot of choices.”
“Even if I agreed to that—and I’m in no way saying that I do—where would we get a ship? The Corps aerodromes will all be too well guarded to get in and take one, even if I thought our situation merited something so immoral as stealing, which I don’t, but even if I did, it would be impossible.”
“There’s the revolutionaries,” Mr. Ho suddenly said.
We all turned to look at her. She gazed back at us with steady eyes.
“Well, I assume by what Jack said that you have some sort of a . . . relationship . . . with them, and if that’s so, then you must have access to their aerodrome.”
I thought for a moment, glancing at Jack. “She’s right.”
He grinned. “Your precious Etienne would be furious with you.”
“Extremely so.” My lips curled in a small, satisfied smile. “It would serve him right for using me all those years.”
“Excellent plan,” Mr. Mowen said, wiping his mouth again, burping discreetly, and rising from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I’ll head out to the Black Hand’s aerodrome and see what ships are likely prospects.”
I stared at him in surprise. “You know where their aerodrome is?”
“Aye, have for years.” He leaned down and said softly, “You’re not the only one with a few secrets.”
“Rouse yerself, lad,” Mr. Piper said, hauling the limp form of Mr. Christian to his feet. “We’ll be helpin’ Mr. Mowen find us a worthy ship. Dooley, ye take his feet. Francisco! Ye comin’?”
Mr. Francisco, who had been strangely silent since arriving at the inn, rose to his feet and glared at Jack. His eye was swollen shut, the area around it currently a deep maroon color, and darkening quickly.
Jack grinned and flexed his hands.
“I am the
capitán
’s most devoted one. Of course I will come,” he said with great dignity, bowing toward me. His gaze wandered along the top of my head for a few seconds before dropping once again to Jack. “Bah!” was all he added before storming out of the garden after the others.
“Was it really necessary to give him a black eye?” I asked Jack.
“Sometimes, the fist is mightier than the sword.”
“Oh, very Quaker, brother,” Hallie said, sliding her feet off the chaise so she could sit up. She weaved a little bit.
“I didn’t kill him. I just reminded him that Octavia is taken, and he needs to keep his hands off her.”
“Where’s Mr. Llama?” I asked, looking around the small garden. “He was right over there a few minutes ago. Dammit, he’s done it again! I can’t believe it! He was right there!”
“Who’s Mr. Llama when he’s at home?” Hallie asked, yawning.
“He was one of the crew on Octavia’s ship. The dark-haired guy.”
“Oh. Him. Nice looking in a mysterious sort of way.”
“Mysterious doesn’t begin to cover it,” I muttered. “So help me God, one day I will have him!”
“Uh-huh. Well, this has all been fascinating, but I’m afraid this is where I leave you.” Hallie stood up and stretched, then looked expectantly at her brother.
“Leave us?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to go home, please.”
“Hallie—” He raised his hands and let them drop again. “I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had time to do any sort of research on what brought us here in the first place, let alone how we’re going to get home. Not that I want to go home. There’s so much here for us, I don’t know why you can’t just be happy here.”
“Happy? Here?” She shook her head. “You may be happy in this technologically ass-backward society, but I’m not. I want malls. I want the Internet. I want my laptop and my cell phone and my life back! Just send me back, and you can stay here and play steampunk adventurer to your heart’s desire, although why you’d want to is beyond me.”
“I wouldn’t leave Octavia even if I could go back,” Jack said, sliding an arm around me.
I smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t stand in the way of your happiness, you know. If you really wanted to go back, I would not stop you.”
He stared down at me, those lovely eyes of his filled with curiosity. “Do you really mean that?”
“Not in the least,” I said, kissing his chin. “I just thought I should say it.”
“Is it any wonder I love you?” he said, pulling me up to his chest.
“None whatsoever.”
“Wait just a second!” Hallie pulled me back before I could kiss Jack as he so obviously deserved. “You guys can get all lovey-dovey after you send me back. I’m not going to stand around waiting for you to get out of the land of lust to do your duty.”
“Hallie, I’ve told you—I can’t send you back.”
I felt Jack’s exasperation, and knew what I had to do. The garden was empty of everyone but us and a small wren that was warbling to itself. I turned to Jack and asked, “Do you remember me telling you that I had a secret, something I knew I should tell you, but couldn’t at that moment?”
“Yes,” he said slowly.
“Look, I don’t want to interrupt your
Oprah
moment of baring your soul to Jack, but this really is important to me,” Hallie said, her face tight with anger.
“And this is important, too, Hallie. I promise you it has some bearing on you.” I turned so I was facing them both. “You think I’m English because I sound like everyone here, but the truth is that I was born in Oregon.”
Jack looked mildly surprised.
“So?” Hallie asked, tapping her foot impatiently, her arms crossed.
“I was born in 1977. My mother was . . . well, not worth discussing right now. I don’t have any memories of my father but one—I remember a day when he took me with him to work. I was so excited and thrilled at being with him as he made his rounds.”
“Fascinating, but not quite pertinent, I think,” Hallie said.
I looked at Jack. He was watching me silently, his eyes speculative. “My father worked at an electrical power plant.”
“So? Mine worked at . . . hey . . .” Hallie frowned in puzzlement. “Did you say
electrical
power plant?”
“Yes.”
I saw the exact second when Jack understood. “You’re the same as us?”
“I am. Something happened that day. What, I have no idea—I was only six at the time. One moment I was with my father, sitting in a room while he showed me a panel of dials and lights, and the next moment, there were loud sirens and an explosion. Then there was nothing until I woke up and found myself wandering around the emperor’s garden.”
“You got zapped here, too?” Hallie asked, her expression frozen for a few seconds in incredulity. It swiftly changed to that of sheer, unadulterated horror. “Oh God! There’s no way back, is there?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. If there is, I haven’t found it.”
She fell over in a dead faint.
To Boldly Go

P
enny for your thoughts.” Octavia turned from where she was gazing out at the clouds and endless blue-gray sky. Her eyes warmed as they always did when she looked at me, and I was filled with a sense of well-being. I would forever rank the fact that we found each other as a miracle of the most profound nature.
“I was feeling thankful that William paid attention to our warning in time. All those people might have been killed . . . but it ended well, although Etienne must be positively livid that his grandiose attack plans were for nothing.”
“I’m sure the bastard will recover. His sort always do,” I said, wishing I could punch him in the face again.
“Unfortunately, that’s true. That Moghul ship worries me, though. No one knows where it has gone to.”
“You said this ship could outrun it,” I said, not liking the faint line of worry between her brows.
“And so we can. I would simply feel better if I knew where it was.”
“Ah.”
She leaned into me, warm and soft, and so wonderful, it made my heart swell. It made other parts swell, as well, but I was getting used to wanting to pounce on her every time I saw her. I contented myself with just holding her close to me, breathing in her heady scent, and wondering how soon I could reasonably introduce the idea of going back to her cabin. Since we’d just left her bed an hour ago, I figured I’d give her another half hour to recover before I broached the subject.
“And lastly, I was thinking about what’s in store for us.”
“I love how you think the same way I do,” I said, cupping her breasts. “Why don’t we go back to your cabin, and I can tie you down and have my wicked way with your fair, soft, deliciously responsive body.”
She turned a dusky pink, delighting me once again. “But we just got done. . . . Jack, you really do say the most inappropriate things. Someone could overhear us. Sounds echo quite well down these passages, not to mention the fact that it’s wholly inappropriate for a chief officer to mention having his way, wicked or not, with his captain.”
“I’m your first and only mate, my love,” I said, taking her in my arms in my very best impression of a pirate. “Chief officers are for the Aerocorps. What we are, my adorable little squab, are pirates. Nonlethal, but still very manly and tough pirates. And you are our pirate captain.”
“I still don’t feel right about that,” she said, squirming slightly when I spread my hands across her chest and stroked her breasts beneath the soft linen of her blouse. “I would have been fine with you being captain, you know.”
“I don’t know anything about flying an airship, and you do. Besides, I’m secure enough to let my girlfriend have a superior position, especially when it involves riding me like a sweaty mule.”
“Sweaty mule?” Her eyes brightened. “Is that something new you haven’t told me about? I wonder if it’s in the pamphlet.”
“It is—they just don’t call it sweaty mule. But I have a few ideas on things we can do to go above and beyond your precious pamphlet. Yeah? What is it?”
I released Octavia and turned when the gangly Aldous Christian approached. “I thought you would like to know that we’ve crossed over into France, sir, and to ask for coordinates for the navigation machine. The rest of the crew is interested to know where you and the captain think we should go.”
I turned back to Octavia. She was biting her delectable pink lip, looking slightly frustrated. I leaned down and whispered, “You told him he could be navigator when I took over his job. Let him prove himself.”
She sighed. “I know. It’s just that he’ll make such a muck out of the autonavigator. He always has.”
“He wants to learn. Just give him a chance.”
She nodded and raised her voice, giving the young man a list of numbers. “I thought we would go to North Africa.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” he answered, saluting awkwardly before grinning at me, and rushing off to deal with the odd machine used to pilot the airship.
“What’s in North Africa?” I asked her.
She gave me a long look out of those sloe eyes. “Someone I’d like you to meet.”

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