An Airship Named Desire (Take to the Skies Book 1) (25 page)

My heart pounded against my chest. Drops of sweat crawled along my arms and dripped around the cold steel muzzle at my temple. Of course the bastard would use my crew against me. He hadn’t held any regard for the Captain’s life. I took a shaky deep breath.

“Fine,” I said. Isabella’s eyes narrowed, and Seth’s shoulders sunk with disappointment. “I’ll reveal the location of the box but not to you. I can’t stomach your traitorous stench. Instead I’ll tell Mr. Jump the Trigger over there.” I pointed to the Morlock officer who’d escorted me onto the deck with Jensen.

Jensen narrowed his eyes, but he withdrew his revolver from its resting spot on my temple.

“All right. You tell him fast now. But my gun’s loaded, doll, and you’re unarmed. Try anything stupid, and I’ll make sure you suffer. There are plenty of men here who’d like to make you uncomfortable.” Each pace over to the Morlock officer echoed in my ears, and my feet dragged across the worn planks of the ship. I leaned forward. He moved in a step closer, so I could whisper the location into his ear. Jensen crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

My teeth clamped on his ear, and I jerked.

The piece of the officer’s flesh flopped onto the ground, and his blood pooled into my mouth, spraying from his torn ear. The Morlock’s fist collided with my stomach. Hard. I keeled over, and fierce defiance flashed through my eyes. The deck swirled under me, and I fought to keep the contents of my stomach inside. My effort threw me onto my knees.

“What did I say about anything stupid?” Jensen glowered at me with his arms still crossed over his chest. I glared at him, and a crazed grin spread on my face.

“Did you really believe I’d tell scum like you?” I spat at him. The lob of saliva mixed with Morlock’s blood hit his arm before it slid onto the deck. His expression didn’t change, and his face remained a perfect mask of calm. He pointed over to Geoff and the Morlock standing beside him.

“Overboard, now.”

I surged to my feet, but before I could rise, the Morlock shoved Geoff over.

Chapter Twenty Four

My heart stopped in my chest, and I collapsed on the ground when my legs ceased to support me. The deck swirled around as I gagged, reeling in sickened horror.

Geoff. Not Geoff.

Five million memories rushed through me in an instant. Geoff’s broad smirk, the one that slipped when he’d made a witty comment. The way he smelled like ozone after a fresh rain, and how the scent of those cinnamon sticks lingered when he left a room.

Even though I interrupted him every time he tried to teach me navigation and spent the other half of the time poking fun, he was always patient, and he always cared.  He brought me a tiger lily after one trip because he knew it was my birthday, and I’d kept that flower until it had rotted away and bugs began collecting around the vase. I just didn’t want to let it go.

During every one of our talks, he’d held his temper, no matter how much I raged and roared. Even last night when I’d tried to comfort him, he ended up bringing me back from my own self doubt. I couldn’t imagine not having the tension that had been there from the start between us, or the shy glances we exchanged when we thought the other wasn’t watching. Every peck on the cheek and caress. The electric feeling of his touch on my skin. The sweet taste of his lips.

Five million memories gone.

The rest of the crew quieted. Isabella’s jaw dropped open, and Edwin’s eyes widened as he slumped over on the ground. Seth—well Seth’s gaze sank to the floor with defeat. I had failed. The Captain always said, ‘we protect ours,’ and I failed to protect the two most important men in my life. Misery swept through me in an aching torrent, and I placed my hands on the ground before I collapsed. Pain from his loss shoved its dizzying draft down my throat, rending the world around me a darker, grimmer color. The Morlock standing by the ledge had a smile on his face.

That bastard pushed Geoff over with a smile on his face.

Several of the Morlocks jeered, and Jensen’s mouth quirked to the side with that smirk he’d always had. The Jensen who spent countless nights aboard this ship, bantering with Geoff and sharing meals, had the nerve to grin. In my life, and I’d had a rough tumble, I’d never seen more black-hearted, foul men. And they’d have my crew. They’d do to every last one of them what they did to Geoff and savor it. Except with Isabella, Abby and little Adelle, they’d find different entertainment, until they tossed them over the ledge as well. I’d kill myself before I’d let Morlock scum touch me. 

I thought I’d known anger before. The self-righteous kind like the slavers kidnapping Adelle sparked within me. Anger had rampaged through my chest and drove me into trouble.

The bitter anger of loss like after the Captain died. It ached through me, tore me apart, and mutated me into a different person. Despair drove me with such vindication for revenge, and nothing so intense ever seized control of my mind like that before.

None of those compared to this hungry anger born out of sheer desperation. Flames rose within me, hot, piping and furious. They danced through my body and tossed every bit into their consuming bonfire. Heat singed my fingertips down to my toes. Anger shaped me, molded me. It replaced my heart with molten lava and rushed me in such a freeing wave.

Geoff believed in me. No matter what. He’d always supported me, from my first year onward and was my impetus to keep moving forward. All that hatred roiled within me, honing in on the man who ordered him overboard. The man who killed my two best friends. I lifted my head and glared venom at the traitor.

Jensen stepped in front of me, and his wide frame shut out most of the deck from my view. I tried surging to my knees, but my legs refused to cooperate. My arms twitched, ready for action. At least I’d go out swinging.

“You have yourself to blame. All I asked for was your cooperation.” He stretched his hands out and cracked his knuckles. “Now, let’s try again.” Isabella’s body shook with dry sobs, which she tried to stifle, but the Morlock struck her in the back. She staggered forward.

“Not the pretty one.” His friend jabbed her in the side. “We have to keep her intact as long as possible.” Her eyes widened, and a stray tear coursed down her cheek. Even though she fought to hide her fear, the tremble of her legs made me squeeze my fists tighter. They couldn’t be allowed to get to my crew, not like that. The Desire wouldn’t go down like that. I gritted my teeth, even though my bruised jaw ached. At least as the captain, I’d go with her. 

Over by the navigation bay, I spotted Mordecai peering from behind the frame and trying to catch my gaze. My heart skipped a beat. I kept my face a mask, not daring to let Jensen notice. If he did, they’d be discovered, and our one chance shot with a blank. Adelle popped her head out underneath. That’s right—Jensen didn’t know about Adelle’s little secret or my latest recruit, and Mordecai hailed as the Shadow Ward. If anyone could keep from discovery, he could. Fighting the Morlocks was a farfetched and crazy prospect, but what else did I have to lose? If we didn’t break free soon, we never would.

Captain Morris didn’t hire any slouches, but neither did I.

“Couldn’t do the dirty work yourself, right?” I raised my voice loud and tried to keep Jensen’s focus on me. “Sounds like the type of man you are. You couldn’t even face the Captain armed. He was too honorable for the likes of you.” Jensen swung his fist, and I saw stars.

Half mad and half stricken by grief, I laughed. I spat at him again, and for the first time, irritation wrinkled his brows. Standing in front of him, I’d reached the perfect vantage point for the rest of the ship in time to spot Mordecai emerging from behind the navigation bay. His sword glinted under the early light, and the Morlock guarding Spade slumped onto the ground without a sound. A triumphant spike of pride rolled through me like sunset’s final embers.

Time for action.

I threw a fast punch at Jensen. He placed his arms up to block it, but before the blow connected, I switched my aim. The Morlock officer, sans-ear, whipped his muzzle up to shoot me. I tackled him to the ground. My body slammed against his as we rolled around along the splintered timbers of the deck. A shot pinged nearby, but the immediate threat of the officer compromised my vision. His elbow jutted into my side, and a sharp pain lanced into my stomach. My knuckles hit something soft like skin, but the deck and sky careened so much they rolled into one kaleidoscopic mass.

Once I gripped onto something steel, I clutched the weapon for dear life. Shouts rang out behind us, but tangled up with the Morlock, I couldn’t see. Using the steel as leverage, I shoved it forward, rewarded by a snapping noise. A vicious grin stole my face. 

My arms kept the officer at length, even as his weight pressed overtop me. I struggled to inhale short, shallow breaths from my compromised chest. His fist flew an inch over my face, but I pivoted to the right, so we crashed onto our sides. Since the punch hardly grazed me, I lashed out with my free elbow. A boot crunched down hard on my calf.

I howled in pain, and the fibers of my leg cried with it. The anger buffeted me like a maelstrom, so strong and furious that it claimed my body over the pain. Rage clouded my vision. Nothing would stop me from sinking my teeth into the Morlock bastard who threw Geoff, my Geoff, overboard. I would gut him like a snake.

A fist pummeled my stomach, and I choked out blood but brought my knee up to greet his. I hit something further down, and the officer crumbled from the pain, curling into a ball. I shoved him off me and found my feet. The metal I grasped in my hand turned out to be the muzzle of a gun, and I thanked the Gods it hadn’t fired off during our scuffle. Flipping it over the right way, I held the pistol ready in my hands. The officer surged onto his knees and pushed himself up before shambling towards me.

I emptied the clip into his chest.

The man keeled over. I scrambled to pick up the sword by his side and drew it from the scabbard. Amateurs running around with live steel ended with a poked-out eye or personal injury, but I knew a thing or two about a sword fight. Not on Mordecai’s level, hell I didn’t know anyone else that skilled, but I could stay afloat in a fight with one. While reloading the pistol, I surveyed the deck before choosing a direction.

Isabella adopted the stance she used whenever she fought with knives, but the men around her remained oblivious. Her arm rose over her head like a poisonous adder ready to strike while she her other hand remained poised below. Lifting her knee, she balanced on the one leg. Her fluid movements became more of a dance than a brawl, but Isabella always had that flair for elegance. She swerved to the left, avoiding the Morlock’s blows, and with a high kick, she knocked the pistol from his hands. The knives glinted between her fingers as she twirled behind him and aimed. I didn’t even need to see the rest to know where he’d end up.

Edwin used his talents as best he could. He’d strapped a stray barrel to one of our sail ropes dangling from a higher mast and crouched on top of the navigation bay’s roof with Adelle.   Leaning forward, he consulted direction with her and then shoved the tied barrel over the edge to crash down onto the Morlocks. Like a pendulum, the barrel soared back in their direction, and they scanned the folks below for their next target.

One man crept toward the navigation bay, aiming for a clear shot at them. The warning caught in my throat as Edwin turned around too late. The Morlock already closed in with his muzzle aimed. Until the pistol clattered to the ground in two pieces under Mordecai’s blade.

Two Morlocks wrangling with Seth had their hands full. The short, ruddy man slung a solid right hook and knew more military maneuvers from his long campaign than most men learned in a lifetime. Over by the navigation bay a Morlock, the same bastard who shoved Geoff overboard, shot Byron in the shoulder. Jack ran over to help. My feet took off before my mind caught up as I raced in their direction.

The air thickened around me with a telling tension, and I gasped for breath. Rage flooded me with a renewed fervor over Geoff. For the time we shared together, the lazy nights aboard ship sharing a pint of rum under the starlit sky. For the potential of what we might have been. I’d been damned stupid to let my fear keep me from him. And now—now he was gone. My head spun, and I shut out the thought before it devastated me, instead surrendering to the sickly brew of hatred churning inside.

I stopped my tread right before I careened into the Morlock. My sword and pistol clattered to the ground. I didn’t need a damned thing because I’d tear that man apart with my own hands. Preoccupied with aiming a shot at Jack, he missed the first hit coming. I slugged him, right under the jaw and shook my hand out as pins and needles jolted through. He recoiled, fumbling with his pistol, but before he could get his bearings, I grappled the piece from him and slid it to our lookout, Jack. I whirled around with an up-kick, and my leg slammed against his other side.

The Morlock staggered but surged forward with another punch. His fist clipped my shoulder, and with that same addled perception, he swung again. I caught his arm between both of mine and jerked it at the elbow, a move the Captain once taught me. The limb snapped at the joint with a hearty crack, and he stopped mid-swing to buckle over in pain. I took advantage of the second to aim a sharp rap behind his knees. He toppled to the ground. Right as my leg descended with another kick, an arm wrapped around my throat.

My hands clamped onto the beefy arm closed over my neck. The man squeezed tighter, and my windpipe strained, ready to break. I bucked and tried to thrash out of the hold, but with the force at my throat and lack of air, my arms dangled by my sides. My mouth watered with my failed attempts to breathe, and my vision shuddered into black. The Morlock I’d beaten surged before me, swaying and casting a crooked shadow onto the deck. His face swelled, and he limped along. Full of rage at being taken down, and by a woman at that, he lobbed a fist into my stomach. I lost breath I couldn’t afford to lose, but my captor’s position shifted.

I didn’t miss the chance, kicking behind my strangler’s knee, and the pointed toe of my boot dug into the soft spot, hard. My vision lapsed into black again, but his arm loosened for a second, and the nectar of fresh air entered my throat. As I bit down on his arm, a yell rang out behind me. His surprise gave me enough slack, and I pushed forward to collapse onto the deck. I glanced back. Of course, my assailant had been Jensen. He loomed over me, ready to strike again, until Isabella stepped up behind him, and he whirled around to face her instead. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to sink my teeth into you.” Her grim smile matched her dark glittering eyes. She was a woman to be feared.

The Morlock launched himself at me, but I curled up with my boots poised upward right before he landed. When his weight slammed against me, I rammed my feet against his torso like a loaded trap, my legs snapping forward. I rolled along my spine using the impetus to spring back to standing.

He stumbled back but caught his balance. I planted my feet on our solid deck, and we circled, both waiting for the other to make their first move. The Morlock appeared about as bruised as I felt, maybe worse with several split wounds on his chin and a broken arm. My jaw ached, and my neck burned from the near suffocation. Each shallow breath I took circulated my throat like spiked razors, but the air entered my lungs with the surprising strength of a zephyr and flooded my body with renewed vigor.

My right arm bled through my shoddy bandaging, sending a stinging dosage of pain through me. I must have reopened the wound when I launched myself at the Morlock officer. If I hadn’t been stubborn, Edwin’s antiseptic and curative balms would have healed it by now. A fierce wind picked up and rolled across the deck. The fresh scent held the sharpness of gunpowder ready to ignite, like the fighting aboard the ship. Desire was a loyal girl. She didn’t deserve these brutes stomping all over her like a bucket of splinters to burn.