An Airship Named Desire (Take to the Skies Book 1) (4 page)

“Same thing he told you. I have no idea what’s in that damned box, but it’s valuable. Plus, the contents must be personal. The employer asked him to do it for old Germany, and you know how much that means to him.”

Jensen didn’t respond at first, and his lips formed a firm frown.  “This wasn’t a good idea doing a job just because the old man’s sentimental.” He gripped the ledge. “This is messy and our crew’s been getting sloppy. We’re pissing off way too many higher organizations. If this keeps up, I’ll have to find another ship to fly with.”

“You’d best stop making excuses and start training harder.”  I bristled in defense. “You’re skilled, Jensen. If the Captain didn’t think you could handle the missions, he wouldn’t put you on them.” Both of us avoided addressing the wound on his leg, but I wouldn’t tolerate anyone badmouthing the captain in my presence. His thick jaw tensed, and for a moment I thought he’d argue. 

“I think we cut it close out there.” Jensen sucked in a deep breath. “It threw me off. I’m used to having more control and definitely more information on the job.”

“Had enough of my hare-brained schemes already?” I nudged him in the side. “But we didn’t even get to take on a renegade crew armed with an accordion and a soup ladle.” Jensen raised an eyebrow, and a smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

I punched his arm. “Look, why don’t you get Edwin to check out your leg? I did a quick job on it, but you could use some antiseptic and a cleaner bandage wrap. He’ll take care of it for you.”

“You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?” He flashed me a sarcastic grin. “Knowing Edwin, I’ll end up worse off. He’ll mix antiseptic with the arsenic, and I’ll be dead before sunrise.”

“Come on now.” I adopted a mock serious tone. “He’s not that bad. On rare occasion his concoctions end up working.” My lips quivered until I broke into a wry grin. “Of course, that could just be a tall tale after one too many drinks. Look, I’ll even walk with you.”

“Oh?” He leaned in closer to me. “I’m getting the first mate’s personal touch, eh?”

I pursed my lips and placed a hand on my hip. “Sweetheart, my personal touch would leave you useless for days.” I winked, trailing my fingers down his arm. “I need my soldiers in top condition, not incapacitated because I wanted to have some fun.”

“Darling,” he said, “you can keep your wrecking-ball style of love to yourself. If I want a riot wrestling match, I’ll sign up for the tournament.”

“You couldn’t handle my heat, Jensen. Tie your apron on and get back in the kitchen.” Laughter bubbled in both our grins, and we stepped away from the edge.

“Ready to go?” Jensen extended an arm. I looped mine through, and we walked off toward the infirmary.

A booming crackle in the distance caused me to nearly jump out of my skin in the aftermath of the gunshot-like rumble. The humidity beaded along my neck and chilled there. When I scanned the horizon line, the blue sky darkened, and white clouds grew smoky tails around their edges.

Chapter Four

I whirled around to the stern side. “Spade!” I called out. My voice carried across the deck. “Storm ahead!”

“Yes, sir!” Spade waved from the helm.

“Just what we need,” Jensen said under his breath.

“It’s good timing.” I grinned, all teeth. “Imagine if rain hit while we escaped. The rope would have been too slippery, and you can just forget holding onto that cargo.”

Jensen and I quickened our pace to get below deck. If a storm loomed on the horizon, we’d need the whole crew to help steer the Desire. I should have recognized the signs—the heaving air and the humidity in the wind signaled the imminent storm. But the sooner I stopped by the infirmary, the sooner I’d be back on deck. High up in the air, we bypassed some pockets, but most of the time rain exploded, hard and fast. At least the deck would get a shiny new polish, since as of late the wood had taken some heavy footprints and extra sludge. Deckhands these days didn’t clean a ship like I had.

We stalked down the flights of steps to the two connected rooms toward the stem side of the ship that comprised the sick bay. A rectangular plank with “Infirmary” scrawled over it marked the door. I turned the doorknob, and Jensen followed me in.

Edwin’s personal labs bisected the main chamber from the back, and the faint smell of bleach lingered throughout the place. Hospital beds, if you could even call them that, covered the front section of the room, some frames with clawed feet, or none, and all sitting at different heights. Multi-colored sheets ranged from olive to neon orange, which provided a splash of color to the menagerie of empty beds spanning the room—apart from the one on the far right.

Isabella perked up when we approached. She’d stayed in the infirmary for the past month after the Morlocks shot her because the wound had dosed her with a hefty amount of poison on top of injuring her leg. While Edwin had found a cure for the poison and administered it in time, the aftereffects slowed her. She’d already wandered around on her own and soon she’d be going on jobs again, but the run-in had swerved too close to casualty. We didn’t lose our own. Her taupe ringlets swung around her neck and brushed along her caramel skin when she stood to greet us. Dark eyes glittered against her heart shaped face, offset by full pouty lips.

“The two of you come down to visit little old me?” She coquettishly brushed her fingers over her mouth. Her tart rose perfume lingered in the air around us.

“Always, lady.” I grinned and patted Jensen’s shoulder. “I brought you a present. He’s big, surly, and I can even tie him up with a bow.”

“How did I ever get so lucky?” He ran a finger underneath his suspender strap and smirked. “Passed around between two gorgeous women.”

“You two best stop that now, or I’ll blush,” Isabella said with a wan smile. What crap. Nothing ruffled the woman. She stepped past us, and her hips swung side to side like a bellydancer’s.

“Now, time to go see Edwin.” I clapped a hand against Jensen’s back before pushing him forward. He trudged off.

“My leg’s been aching,” Isabella murmured. She approached the nearest table covered with Edwin’s mess of capped bottles and sketched inventions. Testing the bench with her hand, she sat down. “Is there a storm brewin’? It doesn’t hurt like this unless there’s rain on the horizon.”

My lips pressed together in a tight line. “Time to ride out another tempest and pray we’re not the bullseye.”

She glanced behind me to make sure big and burly had cleared out. “Jensen got injured?” Isabella’s brow rose. “Color me wrong, but that man doesn’t get injured. In the five years since he’s been aboard, he’s barely gotten a nick on his shoulder let alone a bullet graze.”

“No, he doesn’t.” I rubbed my temples. “The setup of the mission ended differently than expected.”

“A lot of these unexpected scenarios keep cropping up for us.” She glanced down. Her bandaged leg poked out from underneath her rust-red ruffled skirt. A strand of golden circles strung down each side of her off-shoulder white blouse, and the hemming scrunched over her ample bosom.

“How’s your recovery going?” My voice lowered. She spread her legs wider on the bench and placed her hands on her knees. Though a leather cincher usually encircled her midriff, she hadn’t bothered with it while recovering. Not like she needed it. She could loop a belt twice around her waist, and her hips curved like teacup handles.

“Well.” Her breath came out in a hiss. “I can walk again. I’m not hobbling around deck any more, and I’m ready to take some damned Morlocks down. Nobody puts me out of commission this long and gets away with it. As far as attempted murder goes, I’m not very forgiving.” She glanced to the ground and refused to look up.

Her voice softened. “I’m weaker than I was. The wound’s healing due to Edwin’s diligence, but I’ll get tired if I push myself up above. I guess I came close to falling over the edge.” The blackened truth suspended in the air, that we’d almost lost her back there. If we hadn’t brought her to Edwin in time, and if he hadn’t been as skilled, we’d be one crew member down. A life like ours sizzled with danger, but our crew had been together for so long I couldn’t imagine a member missing from our surrogate family.

A boom quaked throughout the cabins, shaking the ship. My fingers gripped the table so hard I swore I bored holes into the top.

“Not a pretty one at all.” Isabella’s face paled.

“You sit tight here and worry about getting better. I’ll be heading on deck to give that big bad storm what for.” I cracked a grin for her.

“Sweet pea, you better tighten your bootstraps.” She winked at me. “I see your knees quaking from where you stand.”

“Ha,” I mouthed. She was half-right, but my job as first mate was to be out there facing the storm no matter what. “Well as long as you’re here taking care of Jensen, I guess I can head out.”

Isabella licked her lips. “I’ll take care of him all right.” I shook my head and stalked out of the infirmary. The wolfish grin on her face didn’t bode well for Jensen—he wouldn’t know what hit him. Not that I blamed her, since a tumble with Jensen had the superficial necessity of a satisfying lay without any emotions shackling me to the mast. I shed that sentimental crap a long time back. Entanglements and feelings interfered with my way of life: trust my instinct and shoot faster than the other guy.

Turning the corner, I quickened my pace as thunder growled again, echoing through the hollow corridor. If a storm loomed, Spade and Geoff would need any help they could get. The sounds of the squall twisted my stomach with the raw anticipation of danger, and I caught a reflection of myself in the porthole mirror I passed. A wide smile had crawled upon my face while I wasn’t paying attention. Apparently my sanity walked a wobbling tightrope if risks excited me this much. Nonetheless, something triggered a skip in my chest with every peal of thunder. Dangerous, yes, but the turmoil of a storm ripped through the entire sector with a clarity I envied. 

I walked up the steps and entered the deck where a darkened indigo skyline replaced the pastel hues from earlier. The keen scent of ozone thrummed through the horizon, threading through my veins like tiny pinpricks of adrenaline. Meaty drops cascaded from the sky, and thick as anything, they plopped on board with loud smacks. Upping my pace to a jog, I made a beeline for the helm. The air darkened, and the sky cascaded to the mottled purple of a bruise. The wind batted my hair around, lifting strands clear over my head. 

Captain Morris already left his quarters and stood by Spade at the helm while Geoff hid away in the cabin trying to secure our location. Morris waved me over, and I tossed him a quick salute. Rain soaked into my black chemise, and I thanked my lucky cameo I hadn’t been wearing a white one, or I would’ve been leered off deck. Giant droplets splattered against my clothes like cheetah print, trickling down my arms. A storm aboard an airship dealt one hell of a pummeling. Naked under the broad horizon, the sky unleashed its worst violence, and we fought to survive.

Gusts of wind kicked up.

With the first aggressive blast, our ship leaned to the right, and her planks groaned under the pressure. Water cascaded across the balloon overhead, dropping in sheets down onto deck right as I arrived at the helm.

“Where do you need me, Captain?” I shouted. The hum of rain along with the claps of thunder muffled my voice. Morris pointed forward, towards the forecastle. The storm sails hadn’t been released yet, and we’d need every ounce of maneuverability to clear the gusts and stay steady.

Wind and rain pounded on my back while I ran. Thunder vibrated through the air again, tense and booming. My boots slipped, but I threw my body back to stay straight since the slick deck made a simple walk dangerous. I kicked up puddles of water as I raced along, pitching myself toward the forward end of the ship. Spade would have plenty of help with Morris by his side, and we needed those sails.

Another thunderclap boomed through the pregnant air, followed by the first flash of lightning. The jagged bolt razed the sky with precision, slicing through the alien horizon and clearing through the torrents of rain. For one instant, the light illuminated the entire deck from stern to stem. It lanced off the curves of the overhead balloon and displayed the exact path I needed.

Streaks of lightning disappeared, and the torrential downpour returned. Water slid down my back, pelted my head, and soaked my pants. The torrents blinded me, and I could barely see three steps ahead, but I stumbled forward, driven by the image seared into my mind.

This time, the airship careened to the left, and my feet slid from under me. As I hit the ground with a thud, my chin slammed against the planks. Though I groped forward for anything with a hold, the downpour slicked the wood across the deck and along the masts. I scrabbled like an overweight fish before pushing myself up again. Lightning illuminated the sky followed by a crack of thunder, which provided enough light to renew my sense of direction. Rain overwhelmed my senses, and even as I choked back draughts of the heady liquid, my heartbeat sped with the thrill. I clenched my jaw, pushing forward. The captain gave me an order, and I didn’t disobey.

Those hooked sails lay within reach, so I scrambled for the rope, which slid within my grasp. I needed a fair amount of force to upend the flaps—this was more of a two man job—but we couldn’t spare the extra deckhand. Winding the limp cord around my hands, I tugged.

After concentrated effort, the sails rose a little but flopped back down as I lost my footing. This wasn’t going to work. My biceps bulged as I tried again, but my feet kept sliding around. I had to edge backwards enough to tie the rope through the brass loop attached to the sides of the ship, however, the tread slipped from under me. Even as my back hit the ground with a thwack, I kept my grip tight.

The force of the fall pushed the sails up, but my body slid as the ship tilted forward. I shut my eyes for a moment to concentrate. Wind, rain, and thunder pounded all around me, pummeling my body.

It had rained the night I left home.

I rolled around the deck and smacked into the edge. The rope tumbled with me, wrapping around my middle. Thunder quaked, and another bolt of lightning flickered through.

During a thunderstorm like this one, I’d stolen my freedom and never glanced back. Years ago, I had crouched on the street side under an old abandoned building. Water cascaded overtop me and soaked my skin as I shivered, alone in the dark. In fact, I’d never been more alone. I abandoned my family, my school, and my friends, leaving my life behind after too many nights of listening to the screams, the crashes, and the thumps from the other room. So many days my mother left the house, a battered hull of a woman. I sat alone under that old building in the middle of a torrential downpour and grinned.

Another loud boom of thunder snapped me to the present. The rope entangled around my waist finally stopped sliding all over the place. I groped for the ledge, and my hand traveled the curve of the brass loop which glinted against the barrage of water from overhead. After fumbling with the cord, I clamped down onto the loop with my other hand.

If I let go, I’d struggle back to the edge all over again.  Slithering on its own, the rope kept darting away from the circle’s opening. After several failures, it caught, and I jammed the end through. Once I looped it in, I placed my feet against the side timbers and yanked backward. Fully diagonal with the ship, I used the leverage to pull the sails up, straining with the effort.

The time between the thunder and lightning began lengthening right as I tied the rope to the loop and stood back to watch the sails flutter in place. Desire steadied somewhat, and the careening lessened. Rain flew into my mouth causing me to splutter as I rushed toward the stern side.

Spade and Morris manned the helm, directing the ship while deckhands scrambled across the planks. Some tightened ropes and secured cargo, while others clung to anything stable. Near the forecastle, the lay of the ship spread before me with the most stunning darkened wood angles, cleansed by the rain. No time like the present to climb back.

I slipped down the rungs of the forecastle onto the main deck. Water sloshed around me, as if I stood knee deep in the ocean, though up here we were closer to any lightning, and our airship made a clear target. If the Gods played darts with their lightning bolts, we’d be bullseye.

Rain swept past us in buffeting gales. I stumbled over my slick leather boots and hunched to guard my body from the torrents. Maneuvering my way across deck, I coasted back to the captain’s side. The flashes of lightning lessened with the following crackles of thunder, and some of the wind even died down. Of course, whenever we pulled the ship into tip-top order for the storm, the wind and rain would dissipate. Storms didn’t last long in our sector before they moved on through the sphere. We’d deal with the onslaught and aftermath, but conditions rarely spanned over a long duration.