An Airship Named Desire (Take to the Skies Book 1) (8 page)

“What are you two lovebirds doing over here?” his voice boomed. I fought the blush that surged and won.

“You call this romancing?” I showed some teeth and squeezed Geoff’s shoulder. “I’d take a bodice ripping any day.”

Captain placed his large callused hands on both our backs. “Mind if I cut in?” he asked. Geoff opened his mouth to protest, but after glancing between the two of us, he shrugged and tossed a hand up as he walked off. Captain Morris took his perch over the ledge.

“It couldn’t hurt to give the boy a break now and again. It’s been obvious since I took both of you young’uns on board that there’s something between you.”

“Not so, sir.” I pressed my lips together. “They switched me out with a robot and I’m incapable of processing these feelings you refer to.”

“Schiesse,” he cursed, and a steady grin took his face. He reached into his leather pack, pulling out a half empty bottle of the translucent green liquid. 

“For me? You’re too kind.” I placed a hand over my chest with mock surprise. Morris pulled out the cork and took a swig before he passed me the open bottle. Fumes of anise and trouble wafted my way before I followed suit. The absinthe seared my tongue and erased my concerns, replacing them with fuzzy-headed abandon. He turned around, leaning his back against the side to face his crew.

“Update me, Bea. You hear more than I do. What has the crew’s been up to?”

A sigh escaped my lips as I tossed around what to say. The crew had been murmuring, but Captain didn’t need to know every last detail of their whines and complaints. 

Morris shook his head. “That bad, huh?”

“The past month unsettled folks. People are growing concerned because we’re taking larger risks. Nearly losing Isabella and the Morlock betrayal sparked a huge panic and now we’re pissing off the Brits. A lot of the crewmates wonder if we’re going too far.”

“Are you concerned?” he asked.

“No.” My reply was firmer than I let on. “You wouldn’t needlessly throw us in danger. This last one was personal for you, I get that, and I suspect the upped stakes have to do with our lack of funds. You don’t run an airship on dreams.”

Pride shone in his eyes, and his wrinkles creased with his smile. “You’re unshakable, Bea, that’s why you’re my first mate. We need this payoff. I didn’t like associating with the Morlocks, but since our contacts with them closed off, our supply of jobs dried up which leaves us more of these difficult ones. Losing the Morlock jobs has put more financial strain on our pockets than a missed payday.” The light of the full moon glistened over his scarred face. His expression sobered, and he stared out far into the distance. Lifting the bottle of absinthe to his lips, he took another draft.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it,” I murmured. He raised his eyebrows. “That they’d believe you’d put them in unnecessary danger.” For a moment he didn’t respond, and we swapped the bottle while basking in the silence.

“We protect our own, Bea. Always have.” His voice grew thick, “I would never put a crew member in danger we could avoid and send them to do something I wouldn’t myself.”

“I know, Captain. You don’t need to prove that to me.”

“Hah.” He gazed at the sky. “Wasn’t it just a couple years back you were a speck of a thing we found shuddering in an alleyway? Now look at you.”

“Your age is addling your scope of time.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I joined with this crew seven years ago.”

“So it was. Although, you’re still a slip of a thing.” He grinned.

“Desire’s been my home for some time. I’d know no other.” My face darkened with the remembrance of the house I spent my childhood in. I never considered that a home. Gesturing for the bottle, I took another shot of absinthe. The harsh liquid cleansed away the soiled memories.

“She’s a sturdy old girl, isn’t she? In all my time I’ve had her, she’s always come through for me, truer than any woman I’ve dallied with. When I saw her years ago in that junkyard, I knew, even back then. Seth helped me. We cobbled together a crew and rebuilt her with scrap parts from the yard. Something told me she’d be worth every penny.”

Both of us lapsed into silence, lulled by the thrum of the wind through her lower sails as moonlight glided over the balloon, glinting along the metal frame. The Desire cut through the sky resiliently, reflective of her Captain. She knew no fear and accepted any challenge.

Pride thrummed through my veins like a victory chant. The crew had started singing an old shanty, and their rough melody drifted over towards us, pouring renewed strength into my bones. Joy filled my heart overfull, and in that moment I was light as a feather, unburdened and free.

Across the deck Jensen had his arm around Edwin, convincing our resident scientist to imbibe the grog. The scientist spluttered, but under Jensen’s hand began to guzzle down the contents. Off to the bulwark side, Isabella flirted with a hapless crewmate, pulling off her hair twirl and lowered lashes bit, while Jack stepped in to harass the newest deckhand. By the helm, several men joined Spade and Geoff, and they huddled under the cover of the navigation chamber. The circle of deckhands who began their shanty trickled off until only one voice drifted by in the errant breeze. Through it all, the lanterns shifted like fairy lights on a summer night, and stars twinkled overhead.

“Captain. She’s absolutely beautiful,” I breathed. We lapsed into silence again and gazed at the horizon, full and free as the deck we stood upon.

Chapter Seven

My wake up the next morning sucker punched me in the stomach. The bright sunlight caused my head to throb, and I may as well have downed a keg of cotton balls. Upon second check I lay under open sky, not in my bedchambers. The roar of a steady breeze filtered through my ears, and the wind carried along the sharp vinegar scent of morning. I blinked, running a hand through my messy hair.

I sat up and groaned as pain lanced up my back. Apparently, I’d spent the night on the deck, tucked in a corner behind some barrels. A couple of guys laid propped upright by crates, and I sighed with relief that I hadn’t been the only one. What a night. The last thing I remembered was joining the crew in a rendition of “Take to the Sky,” but the rest of the time blurred after I drank absinthe with the Captain.

The smell of ale lingered on my breath, clinging to my coated tongue. I tossed an arm overhead and regretted it as my muscles protested with fiery strain. Slower this time, I stretched both arms forward, ignoring my creaking joints, and with a roll I heaved my aching body up off the floor.

Everyone around me slumped over in slumber, which meant no one caught my walk of shame. My pace quickened the more my legs adjusted to movement, and within minutes I stood under the shade-darkened canopy of the cabin. My blurry vision dissipated, but my migraine turned up a notch, so I lumbered to the infirmary. One of Edwin’s weird cocktails would do the trick.

A smile plastered my face at the memories of last night. After a tense couple of days from the job, we knew how to wind down, but times like that had to be treasured because peace and quiet could depart in the blink of an eye. I stalked down the corridor and flung open the infirmary door. Jensen and Isabella lay curled up together on one of the beds—apparently someone got some last night. Edwin sat around the same table we crowded yesterday, but this time, he pressed an ice-pack against his forehead.

“You too, Edwin?” I mumbled.

He nodded and pointed to his lab. “They’re back in there.”

Following the direction, I nudged open the crooked door. Beakers and tubes lay askew on his workbench, and the unorganized shelves contained different types of stopped pale powders and corked fluids. A clear ball crackled with electric currents by the edge of his desk while the smell of burnt rubber clouded the room.

I stepped past his mess to pull one of his labeled vials from the shelf. The whole crew knew where to find Edwin’s hangover remedies. I unplugged the vial, pinched my nose, and downed the serum. That liquid burned my tongue, and I spluttered even as I forced it down. The sour taste of bark and dirt clung to the back of my throat, and when I swallowed, the acrid taste still lingered. With a shrug, I tucked back the empty bottle onto the shelf, since Edwin would use it again at some point. Although slow-acting, a tingle around the fringes of my headache signaled the serum’s effects. I left the lab and waved at Edwin as I passed.

Feeling more human than before, I stalked back up the steps and returned to deck. Sunlight pulsed across my throbbing temples, but I shrugged off the pain. The air around me thickened with humidity as we descended towards land. I didn’t even need to survey the skyline after so many years on board and just gauged the shift by the drift of Desire. Geoff manned the wheel over at navigation, and upon catching sight of me, he raised an eyebrow.

“Did you sleep well? You looked pretty comfortable wedged between barrels.” His grin widened as he teased me. “I’m glad the first mate holds her liquor well.” Damn him. I hadn’t escaped unnoticed.

“I slept wonderfully.” I forced my lips into a smile and delivered a sweet tone. Dropping the banter, I cocked my head starboard side. “We’re near port, aren’t we? I can taste the ocean air.”

“We exited the jet stream early this morning since Spade took care of her through the night. We’re close to the ports, but the captain hasn’t made contact yet. He’s aiming for tomorrow morning since he wants to examine our meeting spot. We’ll want every advantage after last time.”

“Smart,” I said. “Someone really wants whatever’s inside that box, but we don’t want any double-crosses or extra risks.” I clapped a hand against Geoff’s back. “I’ll go recommend myself for the scouting job. Catch you in the quick wind.” I jogged across the deck and peeked over the side.

The port city of Sutcliffe lay next to Pyramid Lake, less flashy than Reno. We couldn’t afford flashy, not with the British Empire on our tails. The ports hit the cerulean Pacific like a stone wall, and the vast sea twinkled brighter than a jewelry vendor’s stand under the sun-soaked sky. Sutcliffe’s fierce rectangular buildings juxtaposed the tide while large pillars marked the landing strips, which were equipped with tiered notches. They suspended her when we powered down the engine and deflated the balloon inside its metal frame. Below us, seagulls circled the sky, hunting for scraps.

I stepped away from the ledge and returned to the cabins. Once below deck, I strode towards the captain’s room and knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he called. Seth stood beside him at his desk as they pored over a map.

“Captain, I heard word of a reconnaissance. I’d like to recommend myself.”

He nodded without raising his head. “Bea, you already knew you were going. I’m sending Jensen with you.”

“Way to take the fun out of my preplanned argument.” I stepped beside Seth. “So, what are you searching for?”

“Plotting out where to get parts,” Seth said. “The job took us for a tumble and the Desire’s running sluggishly.”

“And we’re pinpointing the goods drop.” Morris spread his palms wide over the desk. “I alerted our employer with the update. We’re to meet him at one of the warehouses in the freighter district at five in the morning tomorrow. I’m not risking another crew member, so I’m making the drop myself.” He glanced at me. “Meanwhile, scout and stay quiet. Keep out of trouble.” He shot me a look.

“Why Captain, that’s easy as baking a cake.”

“Considering you’re the worst baker I’ve met, color me concerned.” 

“Fine, fine. I promise I won’t cause too much trouble.” I gave him the toothiest grin I could swing. “We’re close to the dock, so if you give me a location, we’ll be off soon.”

“Sure thing.” Morris grabbed a scrap of paper and drew up a makeshift map. He folded the square and passed it over to me. “Here’s the area I want you and Jensen to check out. Make sure he’s up and ready.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” I saluted and took my exit. If I was rousing Jensen, I knew exactly where he’d be. I clattered down the steps to the infirmary, and upon flinging open the door, the same sight as before greeted me.

“Feeling better?” Edwin asked. I paused and took inventory. His remedy must have kicked in while running around, since my head stopped throbbing.

“Yeah, your mojo did the trick.”

He leaned back into his mug of coffee, and the fragrant smell drifted towards me. Edwin drank that stuff like an opium addict, using his metal percolator over a hotplate. I enjoyed the occasional cup, but this man consumed enough coffee per day to fill a bathtub. 

I approached Jensen and Isabella’s sleeping forms. Their eyes were closed in the peace of dreams, and their chests swelled with the soft breathing of deep sleep. A wolfish grin spread over my face. Exactly why I’d relish waking them.

“What kind of slouches sleep through mid-morning!” My voice boomed around the cabin causing Edwin to wince.

Jensen shot out of bed, and Isabella whipped her head up at the sound. I snickered. Both narrowed their eyes with irritation the second they spotted me. Jensen’s bare broad chest heaved up and down with surprise while the blanket slumped by Isabella’s feet as she shifted out of bed. She only wore a chemise made of flimsy fabric that did a poor job of covering up anything. Out of the corner of my eye, Edwin spluttered on his coffee.

“That’s a lot of thunder for a slip of a thing.” Jensen rubbed his head and gave Isabella an eye scan. A leer broke out on his face. “Some night last night, eh?” Jealousy trickled through me. Not over Jensen—I stifled a snort—never over him, but a fair amount of time had passed since my last tango in the bed sheets.

“Well rise and shine,” I drawled. “We’re docking soon, and you won the lottery to join me on a scouting mission. We’re giving the drop site a once-over, making sure no ticking bombs or trap doors hide out of sight.”

“Let me go get changed.” Jensen grunted. I stopped to admire his muscular back as he exited, and Isabella’s eyes followed the same route. The boy had a spectacular body, even if he was ignorant as get-all.

“I suppose I should be doing the same.” Isabella glanced over her slender bare legs, and her lips curled into a smile. Edwin’s coffee splashed onto the table as he almost dropped the cup back onto the saucer. “Have fun, love.”

“Oh, I will.” I caressed Edwin’s shoulders and stifled a laugh when the poor man nearly jumped from his seat. “You better keep Edwin here busy.”

“Yes, ma’am. I already have some lovely sorts of entertainment in mind.” She gave him a coy wink.

Edwin’s cheeks flushed a furious red, and I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Isabella waggled her fingers towards me while I exited the infirmary.

Before marching back up to the deck, I swung by my room. Ditching the skirt, I pulled on pants, which were much more practical for roaming the city. The torrential downpour from the day prior had soaked my usual leather bag, so I pulled out a different one from my trunk. After shoving a couple rounds inside the bag, I tucked my pistol into the holster along my belt. Although we planned on keeping out of trouble, I always arrived prepared.

Looping the leather by the hoops, I pushed my coin purse onto my belt to rest against my hip. My jewelry box sat unattended on the dresser, so I flipped the top open and pulled out one of my lucky blue cameos. I fastened it around my neck for good luck—we could use it. Checking my appearance in front of the mirror, I pushed my bosom up from inside my bodice and gave my cleavage a chance to breathe. Distraction meant less suspicion.

After closing my door, I made my way back onto the deck. We decelerated and descended to the port. Lucky for us and unlucky for the Brits, only major docks took foreign ships around here. They’d have to go one down to Reno, and by the time they tracked us, we’d have already made the switch with our merchandise and flown away. Skyscrapers rose into the surrounding view, and seagulls zoomed past our ship. Desire creaked and groaned under the slowed velocity as the dock markers flashed into sight.

Geoff and Spade guided the old girl in past the bay with careful precision as they loosened air from the balloon, and we skimmed over the Pacific like a worn pebble. Geoff steered her straight ahead through the first set of markers, slowing her pace to a crawl. The metal balloon frame caught first along the ramparts, and the suspension cables tensed under strain while the body drifted further forward until it stopped, pinioned by the overhead balloon.

An official ran across the wooden walkway to approach our ship. I jogged to the edge and unraveled our rope ladder over the side. Captain Morris emerged above deck, roused by the grinding halt of the ship.

“Time to give more of our hard swindled cash to those bureaucrats.” The captain climbed over the side and descended the rope ladder, and when he jumped onto the boardwalk from the last slat, the planks shook. The uniformed man’s foot tapped anxiously against the ground before he thrust a pen and clipboard towards Captain Morris.

Jensen advanced from below deck with a fresh pair of breeches, a collared tan shirt, and his revolver strapped to his side.

“Ready?” I asked and lifted the map Morris drew. Jensen grunted a yes.

While the captain dealt with the docking officer and paid our fees, we climbed down the ladder and hit the deck with a thump. I saluted the captain when we passed him and opened the map. Based on the drawing, the freighter district didn’t stretch far past the regular docking bay, so we strolled along the boardwalk in that direction. Officials in navy jumpsuits clutched their clipboards, rushing off in the direction of the airship lineup. A traveler strode by with a suitcase packed fuller than his overbearing stomach and skated an inch from bumping into us.

“So we’re finally rid of this cursed cargo?” Jensen adjusted his bowler cap to cover his buzz cut.

“Tomorrow morning at five. Captain himself is going to do the trade.”

Rising from the sea-soaked wooden planks, the salty smell of brine tickled my nose. The ocean glimmered under a full sun, and waves surged with cloud-like crests of foam. Beaches spread out in the distance, marking the land with their amber shores, but ahead, the shipping districts rose above the ramparts and their markers.

White square buildings wedged between rectangular gray, but all wore a uniform coating of streaked black smudges, sunken doorframes, and paint weathered by time to a ruddy rust color. The occasional tan tenement rose over the whole mess like a sentinel guarding his castle. Refuse and rotten clams mingled with the ocean breeze, and shouts from dockworkers echoed through the air as they unloaded freight from laden ships.

I pointed down the pathway at the intersection. “Looks like the warehouse district lies to the left.” The landscape changed into strips of flat boxy warehouses with aluminum siding and accordion doors. Yellow arrows lined the walkway, providing direction meant for the workers, but we followed them anyway.