An Airship Named Desire (Take to the Skies Book 1) (20 page)

“She cared a great deal for me,” he continued, “but when I had the option to leave, I took it. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone, including her. At the time they were part of a past I wanted to erase, but that wasn’t fair to Claire. I ditched with no regard to how my disappearance affected her.”

“Well you couldn’t know,” I reminded him. “You were young, and we all do dumb crap when we’re younger.”

“Dumb things to ourselves, yeah, but to others?” Geoff rifled a hand through his longer strands.

“Even to others—if you hadn’t learned from it, you wouldn’t care now. And I don’t even know why you’re worrying. We’ll get them out safe,” I said, giving him a confident smile.

“You’re right. Thanks, Bea.” He exhaled and straightened in his seat. The sub-bus zoomed ahead several stops until a familiar one splashed onto the screen. Mordecai stood first, ever vigilant, and we followed him off. When we stepped onto the streets leading back to port, I checked Matilda to make sure I’d filled her with ammo.

Late afternoon beams transformed the town with wispy golden rays and orange shadows. The green dome of the casino from earlier glistened despite the internal wreckage I’m sure they still cleaned up. Before we approached the row of homes, we stopped and surveyed the road ahead. Night or day, the road remained empty, and I half expected a tumbleweed to bumble through.

A slight breeze swept by and stirred doubts. What was I doing? Isabella kept a level head on her, and part of me thought she’d spoken true. I was a fool to waste our one chance at Jensen to save some people who may or may not be hurt. Claire hated me anyway and would be as ungrateful as a landed fish. Money we couldn’t afford to spend, and I’d gone and thrown it into a rescue mission when danger hunted my own crew’s every step.

The Brits tracked us, Morlocks put us in their ‘kill’ database, and our ex-employer wanted his cargo. With so many new friends, it was a wonder we got anywhere.

“Do you have any inkling as to which one of these lovely homes the mercenaries would shove them in?” I asked.

Mordecai shook his head. “Could be any. I may be skilled at finding people, but I just follow the signs. No psychic powers or anything, as much as that’d help my career. Look for indicators of movement or footprints. These houses are generally abandoned.” The path ahead appeared, well, dirty. My eyes weren’t trained to seek out footprints and details like askew doorframes. Or overturned rocking chairs. My gaze paused on the sight three houses down. 

“You think there might have been a struggle?” I pointed in the direction of the felled rocking chair.

“It’s worth a try.” Isabella twirled two knives between her fingers. “Better than anything we have right now.”

I peered at the windows lining the top floor but they were too darkened to see from, and the first floor ones had been boarded up. Great attack plan: march in through the front door. Mordecai walked up the porch steps first, but for a man of such large stature wearing heavy leather boots, he didn’t make a creak. His blonde hair trailed down the middle of his back and flowed with his lithe movements. Isabella followed him with a gentle sway to her hips.

I tried placing my foot on the step lightly like them, but the wood groaned when I pressed my boot down. So much for stealth. Mordecai’s eyes narrowed, and I raised my hands, biting my tongue to keep from pointing out our front entrance approach didn’t help either.

No one aimed a sniper shot at our heads, so they hadn’t stationed guards. Although, if they pressed their hostages for information, the mercenaries might’ve made a call and disposed of the bodies. A shiver ran through to my fingertips. Mordecai pressed the door open, and we filed indoors. Streams of light poked through the couple cracks in the walls, but shadows suffocated the rest of the place.

The keen smell of rust and mildew filtered through the room, mingling with the cheap air. This entire house unsettled me, even as my eyes adjusted to the pitch black. Long wooden floorboards stretched out, for the most part unbroken, and a couple of tarp-covered chairs and couches crowded the back wall. No one made a sound, and we all listened. Though in the far distance seagulls cawed and the breakers crashed, utter silence dominated the inside.

A spiral staircase cut into the middle of the room. We crept over to it, and Mordecai tested the first step with his boot. Good. The wood hadn’t rotted through. I drew my gun while we scaled the stairs because readiness had saved my life several times over. We reached the top step and stopped. I crept behind Mordecai, squeezing by him to peer past the wall. A corridor branched into three rooms, but still, no noise. Either the mercenaries were adept or…I shuddered. An early evening crow cawed right outside the window, causing me to jump in surprise.

Taking the lead, I stepped forward. The visibility on this floor was much clearer, and a musky sienna light streamed in through the windows. I stepped into the first room, but it lay empty aside from a rotted mattress. No mercenaries waited in the corner for us or any tied up victims. We crept through the corridor and peered into the other two rooms but found them empty, empty, and more empty. I stamped my foot in frustration upon entering the final one. A dusty chest sat against the wall, so I took a seat.

“Where are they?” My impatience and temper rose. “Will we have to search every last one of these row homes?”

Mordecai leaned against the wall. “We may have to.”

“I hope we aren’t too late.” Isabella voiced what each of us thought. If anything happened to Claire, Geoff would lose whatever tenuous composure he held onto.

“You saw them carried away by the mercenaries, right? Did you notice anything else? Who did they pull from the crowds?”

Mordecai’s emerald eyes narrowed in concentration, and he tapped a finger against his lips. The motion of his arm brought his sleeve down around his elbow, revealing a tattoo of a black and grey iron cross surrounded by a spoked wheel on his tanned forearm. Geoff paced around the room, back and forth. Waning light cast from the window caused shadows, which swept around the room like dangerous thoughts. I pushed the muddled memory of Claire slapping me away.

Mordecai finally spoke. “One mercenary grabbed the girl who approached you and Geoff. She jumped on you and tackled you down.”

“Claire’s very fond of me,” I commented dryly.

“She was short, tiny features, wore one of those cocktail outfits with a miniature metal hot air balloon pinned to the lapel.”

I lifted my eyebrows, impressed. “You have more than an average memory. We’ve got a girl like you on board. She’s pretty much a living map.”

“Just steady recall. If I’m paying attention, I pick up every detail. It’s why I’m an expert at finding people.”

“Okay.” I placed my palms on my knees. “So what else did you notice? Who else did they take?”

“Another man, one of the bartenders.” He squinted. “He wore that modernized military suit jacket with a little navy cap. Shoddy representation if you ask me. They pulled away one of the patrons too, a well-dressed gentleman. He wore a tweed suit jacket and chestnut pants with a monocle.”

I froze. It couldn’t be. We weren’t the true targets. The blackened thought from before surged into my stomach again, churning it with panic. A thin sweat broke out on the nape of my neck because my intuition hit marks like target practice, bullseye every time. I knew exactly where they’d be.

“Shall we go search the other houses?” Isabella tapped her foot. “It’s getting late, and I’d still like some visibility to our advantage.”

“No,” my voice scraped out at a whisper. Mordecai delivered a sharp, surprised glare. Geoff stopped his pacing. The cogs whirled around in my mind faster than I wanted them to. “Geoff, you have your holster on, yeah?” He nodded, still giving me a confused frown. “What about your coin bag?” He groped for the pouch by his hips, but his hand came up empty. I fought to keep my voice level. “Now, what did you have in your bag besides coins?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Uh, a pocket-sized aether lamp and a map of Reno.”

My jaw tightened. “Did you have that map marked with the location of our ship?” I asked. The answer I already guessed socked me in the gut. Geoff always marked the Desire’s location when we journeyed on land. 

“Yes.” He hesitated before comprehension sunk into his features.

Isabella pursed her full lips and glanced between the two of us. “What’s so important about that? So he was mugged. The two of you got drugged in there—I think that matters a bit more than a mugging.”

“The important part is our ex-employer’s mercenaries now know the location of the box on our ship. Which puts our crew in danger.”

“They’ve gained half a day. Do the mercenaries know what airship you fly?” Mordecai strode to the door.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Hell, I don’t even know how they found us. I thought we knocked off our pursuers at the drop site.”

Geoff followed Mordecai out the door, his face a mask. “During the day there’s the chance of docking officers and the other men who run those docks, but you saw how empty it was before dawn. Even with a head start, they’d wait for night. No hassle that way and more cover. Mercenaries think smart.”

“Claire must have taken it when we fell trying to escape. She was grappling with me. I thought she slapped me, but my mind was too addled to tell.” I brought up.

“We don’t know that—anyone could have pick-pocketed me there.” The firm tone of his voice closed the topic.

I glanced out the window. “So what you’re saying is we have until sunset?” The sky turned lavender under the first waning rays of shadow. “Gods protect us, let’s go.”

We threw regard out the broken window and ran.

Chapter Twenty

Our feet pounded down the steps, and we flew past the door. The docking bays were located at the end of the street, so I pushed harder, kicking up dirt along the road as all four of us sprinted. Mordecai took the lead with long loping strides that outdistanced the rest of us while Isabella and Geoff lagged a couple paces behind me. Long days of training helped me keep pace despite the drugs still filtering out of my system. My heartbeat pulsed through my hearing like a jangling alarm. The sun wavered along the horizon, but the deepened colors reminded me.

Sunset was coming.

Failure burrowed into my chest, burning like an open wound. Our one shot at finding Jensen, and I blew it to help traitors. Maybe that was my problem. I was too trusting. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as we raced along the dirty streets. Hell, if I hadn’t been naïve in the first place, maybe the captain…I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and pushed myself harder. No time for that now.

The docking bay loomed into sight. We neared closer and closer, but the boardwalk lay right out of reach. My ship and crew were in danger. Urgency flooded me, warmed my legs, and forced me to move faster.

Our footsteps’ cadence created a steady rhythm, but the fresh adrenaline gave my steps extra impetus, and I passed Mordecai. We had to get there in time, before the mercs tried boarding the Desire. No one would violate her, and I wouldn’t allow my crew to be taken by surprise. My hands balled into fists as we ran. Magenta streaks raced across the horizon, and the sun halved into a copper ball of flames that sank into the sea. Worry beat like a tin drum in the back of my brain.

A slight wind picked up and carried the salty spray of the tides mingled with rusted metal. We reached the boardwalk where dozens of ships berthed, and I caught sight of the Desire’s dark wooden hull. If we made it to the ship, we could pull out and ditch them before they even caused a problem. No one strolled along the deck, and the absence formed a menacing silence, which was only broken up by the occasional crash of tides.

I squeezed my fists tight. The crow of a seagull startled me as it careened way too close.

Isabella sidled next to me, pulling out a miniature brass telescope. “Let’s find some cover and take a peek.”

We crouched behind several barrels, and sandbags slouched against the port building. Isabella peered out from above with her scope, scanning our ship. I tapped my foot against the stained wooden planks. The sun glided closer to the horizon, and purple edged its way onto the skyline. We may have already been too late. That dropped a numbing beehive of panic into my brain, and I forced myself to take several deep breaths. Isabella’s fingers tightened around the brass tube.

“What is it?” I almost didn’t want the response. Mordecai crowded in closer.

“I see Spade wandering the ship.” A sigh passed her lips. “So is Jack, Abigail too.”

My chest burned with relief, and I took charge. “Let’s move out then. We don’t have the time to waste on subtlety.”

“Please,” Isabella laughed. “When have you ever wasted time on subtlety?” 

Before bursting out into the open, I glanced down one side of the walkway, then the other. I raced towards the ship and prayed Spade or one of the deckhands noticed us. We needed them to drop down the rope ladder.

The smell of gunpowder and I had a familiar, sordid past. So, when the first bullet cleared the air, I ducked in time. In fact, all four of us did. Even though we stood by the Desire, no one peered over the edge or threw us a ladder. By the other end of the port house, someone stepped behind the teetering stack of crates, but we’d already exposed ourselves, so anything more couldn’t hurt.

“Spade!” I placed a hand by my mouth and called up, “You black hearted cur, leaving us stranded down here. If you don’t lower the ladder I’ll have your liver for breakfast!” I stepped back, hoping my voice carried. Mordecai drew his sabre and raised the blade in defense, preparing for an onslaught of bullets. Another shot ripped through the air, but he arced his blade fast, and it pinged harmlessly onto the ground. Either they tested us, or only one man hid behind the stack.

A familiar face peered over the ship ledge, and seconds later the rope ladder dropped down. I scrambled for the first rung but upon grabbing it, stopped. Climbing would leave us exposed and vulnerable for them to shoot us in the back. These were mercs. Smart. We made easy targets, so why waste ammo? I placed an arm out to keep the others back before tossing the ladder upwards.

“Don’t let anyone aboard,” I yelled back. “Snipe any intruders.” I jerked a thumb towards our previous cover, and we made a quick retreat.

The mercenaries didn’t waste any time once their opportunity vanished. A full onslaught of bullets peppered the air. Mordecai took the front, and his sword flashed a million different ways while he fended off the stray shots. The others studded the boardwalk. We raced back over to the barrels, and I dove. My shoulder crashed onto the mildewed planks, but I shook the pain off and drew Matilda. The port house doorway blocked a clear shot at the stack of crates lining the other side.

Another round of shots fired again but sparser this time since we hid behind the barrels. They realized the disadvantage too.

“I wish I had a frag right now. I’d lob it and blow the bastards to hell.” Geoff threw his head back. Isabella peered over the sandbag and took a shot. Her bullet pinged against the protruding doorway off the building, so she tried again, but the shot buried into a crate. We couldn’t maneuver out in the open, yet they couldn’t either. Ah, good old fashioned stand stills.

Someone poked out past the crates. Two people, in fact.

I lined up my shot, but before I fired, Mordecai clamped a hand on my shoulder.

“Those are the supposed hostages.” Deep in my gut, I still had that sinking feeling, but I glanced back at Geoff. Even though he barely dared, hope shone through his eyes anyway. If I shot Claire now, he’d never forgive me. Besides, I couldn’t aim at unarmed, open targets.

Claire and the bartender rushed towards us.

“Help, help!” she screamed and balled her delicate hands into fists. Tears streamed down her face, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Like the mercenaries would let hostages go for no reason. How stupid did they think we were? None of us moved an inch. Midway through, several bullets clipped the air again. Claire and the other man threw themselves to the ground. I shot a hand out to Geoff’s shoulder to keep him from running out and frowned. 

They scrabbled up again, surging towards us. The sun cascaded into its final swan dive before night and sprayed a trail of glittering light across the deck. Desperate beams glistened over waves and deepened the monolithic shadows of the ships. And the final rays glinted off an object in Claire’s hand.

I whipped Matilda up and pulled the trigger, but Isabella beat me to it. A shot buried deep into the bartender, and his hidden shotgun flew from his hands. Claire wasted no time and rolled over by the doorframe. My shot sailed past her overhead. I fired another one, but she already ducked into the port house entrance. Shit. I placed a hand against Geoff’s back, but he didn’t move. In my experience, betrayal sliced deeper than a bayonet knife.

With one dead body on the boardwalk and one loose-cannon vixen inside, we were back to the standstill from before. Threads of night began to overtake the sunset and cast the dock in darker shadows. I sucked in a sharp breath before peering up to try another shot. My bullet pinged off a crate, throwing splinters into the air.

A round of bullets besieged the mercenaries from above.

Spade came through, and our crew fired rounds from the perfect vantage point of the ship. One man slumped past their cover, dead. The mercenaries moved fast when their cover fell through. They circled around the back, but Spade and our men kept firing.

I signaled forward. Since someone threw the rope ladder down, I seized the opportunity. We raced across the boardwalk while our crew maintained distracting fire. My fingers curled around the first rung, and I scaled that ladder so fast the rope rippled in my wake. As I tossed myself onto the deck, Edwin rushed over.

“We hadn’t heard from you since yesterday. We were worried, Captain.”

“I’ve been busy getting shot at, deceived, and drugged. Scouting’s a tough job these days.”

Edwin shook his head, and a goofy smile quirked our doctor’s lips. Isabella and Geoff tumbled aboard with Mordecai right behind. Edwin hovered over them. “And who’s this?”

“A big fluffy teddy bear.” Isabella’s eyes studied Mordecai, and she flashed him a predatory grin. 

“Spade,” I called out. “Halt the fire, we’re on board. We need to get out of here at once.” The peppered shots simmered down, and Spade jogged over. A dainty hand touched my shoulder, which caused me to whirl around. Adelle stood behind me, favoring her right side since a brace still wrapped around her ankle.

“What are you doing up and moving around?” I asked.

“I looked over the navigation bay with Mister Wesley.” She tugged a long strand of hair.

I blinked. “I thought I knew everyone on this ship.”

“You call him Spade.”

“You mean his name’s not Spade?” I arched a brow.

He cut between us. “What do you need, Captain?”

“We need to leave now. Those are our ex-employer’s men, so we’d be safer in the air. Start up the engine, fill up her balloon, and we’ll sail the skies again this night.” I turned to Adelle. “You’re not ready to start steering on that ankle, but do you want to watch the boys get her started?” Spade escorted her over, and I glanced back at Geoff. “Would you mind?” He stalked over to the navigation bay without a word. We’d need to talk later.

Edwin scuttled back to his crustacean depths, and Isabella wandered over to Jack and Abby. Mordecai leaned against the side of the ship with his arms crossed. I tapped a finger against my forehead before hurrying over to him.

“I’m so sorry—you already did what we paid you for. You’re free to go.” I bit my lip, frustrated at the foolish waste of coin. Mordecai didn’t move.

“I talked to Isabella you know. A traitor on your ship, this Jensen? That’s rough to stomach. And I didn’t fulfill my bargain, since I never found you any hostages. You came to the answer on your own.”

“We do need a recon man. The traitor was our old one. Would you be interested?” Mordecai didn’t answer and studied me for a moment. I grinned. “Sorry, did I move too fast for you? Next time I’ll buy you dinner first.”

“You exchanged help finding the traitor for those hostages. Why?”

“For Geoff and because I’m no scumbag.” I didn’t hesitate. “I don’t get innocents involved on my account, especially unarmed ones who can’t protect themselves. And that girl who betrayed us? Geoff’s old flame. We protect ours around here. I just wish I could have protected him from that emotional smack down.”

Mordecai’s grin deepened. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that phrase.” Before I could ask, he cut me off. “Very well, I’ll join with you. I’ve grown tired of Reno anyway and could use the change of scenery. No gypsy stays in the same place for long.” 

“I can’t promise you’ll be bathing in jewels, but we keep things interesting.”

He shook his head. “I’ve seen a bit of that already.” 

“We never suffered a formal introduction.” I offered him a hand. “I’m Bea, Captain of the airship Desire.”

“Mordecai Blacksmith, dear lady.” He flourished his hand and bowed. “The alleged Shadow Ward at your service.”

I slapped his back. “Welcome aboard.”

He removed his trench and draped the thick coat over his forearm. The starched tan shirt made a failed attempt at disguising the sinewy muscles underneath. Without the cover of his coat, his sword hilt protruded from the frog attached to his belt. I’d seen the sword in flashes when he displayed his fancy moves, but the pommel glowed brassy under the last wisps of light. His scabbard ran long and black with a bronzed tip. Mine was longer, but I hadn’t his level of skill.

“Since I’m a new member of this crew, and not some random mercenary for hire, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to give you what little I’ve seen of your traitor.”

I perked at his words. In the distance, Adelle stood next to Spade and Geoff at the navigation bay as she watched them flip open consoles and set the Desire up for flight.

“How would you have heard anything? I haven’t even told you the man’s name or description yet.” Before he responded, I figured out the answer. “Isabella. How much time did you guys have together anyway?”

“Enough.” He grinned and showed some teeth. She’d have to fill me in later. “When I wandered the districts of Reno, even in Nautilus, I did catch a glimpse of a man matching your description, mere hours before I ran into the three of you. He stood a head taller than most of the crowd and wore a bowler cap. Hazel eyes.”

“That sounds like Jensen to me. Any idea where he headed?” I leaned against the side of the ship, listening to the creaks as she readied to sail.

“A Morlock tattoo covered his bicep, and the obligatory pelt weighted down his holster. He was conversing with other Morlocks, those of the eastern branch.”

“You must have met the wrong man.” I frowned. “Jensen might be a traitor, but the Morlocks?”