An Airship Named Desire (Take to the Skies Book 1) (27 page)

We collided with the flat deck of the Morlock ship, and for a moment we both caught our breath. Our eyes met. I stared into his hazel ones and knew exactly what he’d do next.

Which is why I lunged for his boot before he darted away.

I yanked to pull him in closer, but three times my weight, he didn’t budge. Instead, he slammed onto his side and tried to kick me off him. I rolled across the deck but latched my nails into his skin, refusing to let go. The kick dragged me closer to his torso, so I tucked forward and threw my whole weight against his midsection. So close to him, the stench of diesel and rosemary almost choked me, even after tolerating that scent for the many, many missions I’d been. With one of his gargantuan arms, he batted me from his side like a stray cat. I sucked in my stomach and tucked into a ball to minimize the blow.

Before he stood, I whirled back around, slamming an elbow into his ribs. The soft give of flesh and bone crunched underneath my blow. His hot breath cut through the rain and threaded the air with tension. I rolled away, elbows colliding with the floor before he could shove me off again. Using the motion to my advantage, I kicked his ribs, hard. A groan followed.

His leg snaked from behind and caught me in the knee. I buckled at once, thudding against the deck as the air hissed from my throat. Jensen loomed over top me, struggling to stand. He glowered down, those hazel eyes foreign. The man who killed my Captain without remorse. The man who ordered Geoff overboard. Anger flooded my veins again and clouded my vision a musty red. I surged towards him and lobbed a blow, straight for his chest.

He threw his beefy forearm up in defense and shoved back. The force sent me tumbling. My back scraped against the deck, and the chafed skin underneath burned. This time he didn’t stay to tango and darted away from me toward the ship ledge. He crept towards the helmsman, whose back faced us.

“Move out,” he shouted to the man. “We’ll deal with the girl, but we need to get the cargo out of this mess now.” Jensen took a couple more backwards steps closer to the helm.

“Oh you’ll deal with me, will you?” Pure fury sang through me. My cheeks burned from exertion, and my chest rose as I gasped out every breath. “Like you killed the captain, defenseless in his room? Why would you betray us when we’d been nothing but good to you? The crew was like family and you broke it apart.” I pulled my revolver and aimed it at his head. “For Captain Morris and for Geoff, I’ll never forgive you.”

“It’d be nice right?”  Jensen sneered and whipped out his own pistol just as fast. “All the reasons tied up in a pretty package for you? Sorry. That’s not the way life works. I have my cargo. Do yourself a favor and jump overboard.”

I kept my gun level and aimed for his head.

“If we both shoot, we’ll both die. You know I don’t miss my marks, and if it means taking you down, I’d sacrifice my life. You took away the two men who meant the most to me.” Droplets of rain soaked into my hair, and the chill sent shivers rolling down my spine. “Get ready to meet your end,” I growled.

“I’ve no plan on dying, doll.” He turned to the helmsman. “Shoot her down.” The hammer of a pistol clicked, sending a pit into my stomach. Two against one. A gulp traveled down my dry throat, but I stayed firm—didn’t try to run. Jensen would not get away. 

“Jensen, she’s right. You won’t be leaving this ship alive.” A familiar voice spoke, but I barely believed the sound. My head whipped away from Jensen right as the helmsman turned around. Chestnut hair plastered against his forehead, and those safe, steady brown eyes stared back at me knowingly.  

Geoff stood by the wheel with his gun pointed at Jensen’s head.

My heart leapt, and my lip trembled under the insane tide of joy that swept over me. Water welled up in my eyes. Damned rain.

“How?” Jensen’s eyes narrowed.

My finger trembled on the trigger, and I stared him down. This was Jensen, my crewmate, who I’d called a friend, a brother. But that had all changed. I aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.

Jensen staggered back, but he already stood at the ledge, so the force of the shot bucked him overboard. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped in horror. I started running in his direction to get the box. If that fell over, we’d lose any chance of proving Britain’s duplicity against old Germany. He clutched it tight against his chest with a grim determination on his face that surprised me.

For a second I glimpsed the man who watched my back on so many missions in the past. The one whose redneck stubbornness gave Americans a bad name. A brief flashing moment and I thought I saw my old friend, from the memory so long ago when we fastened that porthole onto the Desire’s walls. But looming overhead would always be the scene from the night that played out in my nightmares, of him standing over the captain with blood-stained hands. Before I could reach out, Jensen and the box both dropped out of sight. 

White knuckled, I gripped the ledge of the ship, but he already vanished out of view. They were in for one long descent.

I took a deep, shaky breath as my eyes stung. Captain Morris, rest in peace.

Footsteps pounded beside me, and Geoff approached. I didn’t believe my heart could soar so high after the plummet it’d taken earlier. Neither of us said a word, we just stared for a moment and drank in the other’s presence. All my caution dashed away with the rising winds as drops of rain hit my face. I ran over to him.

He pressed his hands against my back and pulled me into a kiss before I had the chance to say a word. But talk didn’t matter. I thrust myself against him and kissed Geoff with the fervor we’d restrained for so long. Every shy glance when we thought the other wasn’t looking, every fumbling drunk encounter we had, and each and every peck on the cheek culminated in this. Geoff sparked within me a passion I thought I’d lost and one I’d buried away for so long. His hot breath commingled with mine and fought against the chilled drops of rain. I met his lips over and over again, tasting the spicy cinnamon.

His arm circled my waist, and he drew me closer. My hands ran over his tight biceps and across his muscled back as I reveled in his realness. Every second he didn’t vanish in my arms made me all the more grateful. I’d been so sure I lost him. He caressed my waist, his warm hands filling me with the safe assurance they always had. With Geoff at my side I couldn’t lose. I would never stop fighting. I hungrily sought out his lips for more and drank in the wicked scent of ozone. My chest ached with conflicting reassurance, loss, and gratefulness, however none trumped the passion that dominated me as strong as the winds. 

A crack of thunder rolled through the air, and we pulled apart.

“We have to get back to the ship.” I tugged him by the hand toward the rope leading down.

“Not just the storm but the merchant ship seems to be arming up.”

“Ready to pull a second miracle?” I flashed him a grin. “Let’s get the Desire out of here.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

I dropped down the rope, careful to mind my injured arm. Below, swords clanged, and the occasional bark of a gunshot interfered with the growing patter of rain against the deck. With their numbers halved, many of the Morlocks backed towards their ship, quickly losing their steam. Weapons lowered, and wary eyes surveyed the area rather than the men charging in for a fight. My boots hit the deck as I landed with a watery thud, and Geoff followed behind me.

As long as they got the hell off my ship, I didn’t care if they departed dead or alive. The rain swarmed the deck, and drops mingled with the pools of blood, beating down upon the corpses. Isabella and Mordecai toyed with a redcoat, both utilizing a mere fraction of their sword skills. Blades clanged to a sweet sort of dissonance. Two of the Brits slumped dead on the deck, one of them the officer I’d killed. Three of the guards remained, but they’d resorted to a fistfight brawl against Seth and a couple of the deckhands. 

I heard the sound of cannon fire too late.

The Desire quaked. With all the chaos aboard, I hadn’t noticed the British Merchant ship gearing up to fire. The cannon exploded against her side, and the deck careened to the right, sending everything to the ledge. Mottled sky and jagged planks whirled around me as the buck of the ship threw me onto my back. My aching body cried out in pain, and I began sliding along the slicked deck towards the edge. The crew. I had to help my crew.

Wood grain scraped against my arm and stung as I flipped over onto my stomach. I scrabbled for a hold along the deck, but my numbed fingers found no purchase. A hand grabbed mine, and I looked up. Geoff yanked me to his side as he wrapped his other arm around a nearby mast.

“We’ve got to get out of here fast.” His grave expression mirrored my own.

“Quick, get to the navigation bay. We need the engine jump-started for a fast escape. I’ll handle the crew.” His eyes gleamed with pride, and he gave me another quick kiss on the lips before he jogged off in the direction of the helm. When Geoff approached, Spade’s eyes glistened with the first real tears I’d ever seen from the man. They set to work on the aether regulators, preparing the engine. I shook off the delirious adrenaline spurred by Geoff’s touch and focused on the task before us. 

As I approached the crew, the red against blue flag glared on the enemy ship.

“Jensen’s dead,” I called over the squall, “and the box fell with him.” The remaining Morlocks took that news as the final push to escape, and even those still fighting made a headlong dash towards the dangling rope leading to their boat. We didn’t bother chasing them down—we had bigger concerns.

“But right now, I need everyone on alert because this ship’s trying to blow us out of the skies.” The remaining redcoats dropped their weapons, realizing their ship marked them off as dead. Mordecai and Isabella made fast work of binding the officers with rope. Once their superiors were captured, the others didn’t even try to fight and just raised their empty hands. Defeat weighted the air as they hung their heads and sank to their knees. The raindrops thickened and compromised my vision, but in the distance, the Brits loaded one of the dozens of cannons lining their sides. We had to get out of here and fast. I took in a deep breath of ozone before continuing.

“Jack and Hiram,” I called out. “I need you to get the storm sails readied. The skies are going to pour.”

Jack stepped up to me with a look darker than the looming thunderheads on his face. “Hiram’s dead, Captain.” His words hit me like the butt end of a chainsaw, and I exhaled a sharp breath. No time to grieve—not now.

“Fine, take Abigail. We need our girl readied to get out of here.” Jack and Abigail rushed off towards the sails.

“Where do you want them, Captain?” Seth jerked a thumb at the willing captives.

“Take them to the brig,” I commanded, knowing very well we didn’t have anywhere to hole them up. He arched his brow. “Fine, stuff them in the infirmary. More for Edwin to deal with.” I sighed, waving them off.

Seth shrugged and hulked off in the direction of the lower decks, corralling the men as he went. The rain hummed in my ears like the strain of a tin whistle picking up momentum. Our ship’s timbers shuddered, and we began sailing in the opposite direction of the British Merchant ship. Not fast enough. The cannon boomed again.

“Incoming!” My scream scraped against my raw throat and barely carried amidst the deafening sound.

This time I latched onto the mast for a handhold as the Desire bucked from the blast. Cannon fire smelled like a burnt wet rag as it wafted up from the keel of the ship. The force of the blow tossed crewmates feet into the air, only to send them crashing back onto the deck. If the Desire took any more hits, we’d fall from the skies. My stomach dropped as my gaze slipped to the edge. Water careened into my eyes and weighed me down from chemise to boots. Thunder crackled in the distance, and stinging drops of rain pattered with a rising fury. Even if we had a location, blasting away wouldn’t give us the impetus necessary since those first two hits had slowed our girl.  

Our last escape had been sheer luck. What were the chances of finding a jet stream or pocket again? Isabella approached with Mordecai fast on her heels.

“We need to distract them somehow.” Isabella shouted through the bellowing winds. The rain cascaded over us in torrents, and the winds slapped errant drops with spite.

“One cannon versus dozens.” I jabbed the air in the direction of ours. “In that shot, they’ll have fired the final one to clear us from the skies.”

“Fire at a weak spot? Maybe if we hit their balloon?” she yelled over the rain.

I shook my head. “They’ve got top of the line plasma shielding. One hit won’t take it down.” With the British ship adjacent for firing, their lines of cannons stretched on and on like the open skies. 

“It looks like the Morlocks get out of this free and clear.” Mordecai pointed. Several guys scampered up the rope to the Morlock ship, moving so fast the tail whipped around underneath them. The vessel pulled away from us, but being smaller and slower, it trailed behind. An idea raced through me faster than a fish downstream. 

“Isabella, come with me. We’re loading the cannon.”

“I thought you said—” she started. I sliced my hand through the air to cut her off. She followed without another word, and we raced across the slickened deck towards our one weapon. This was a long shot. A definite long shot. But Lady Luck hadn’t left me yet, and I would test her one more time today.

The Desire shuddered, and her limbs creaked from the force of those blasts. We sailed faster away from the Brits, but the wheezing timber didn’t promise a fast escape. If they sent off that next round, we’d find ourselves with a fast ticket groundside and no hope of survival. Redcoats hovered around the next cannon, readying to fire another shot from the rows of artillery lining the starboard side of their ship. They had plenty of ammo, so they could keep blasting rounds until they were green in the face. The slickened sole of my boot gave, and I slid the rest of the way towards the cannon.

My back slammed against the ledge, and a sharp lance of pain zigzagged up my back. I pulled myself up using the sides for support and waved a hand at the cannon.

“Help me load her,” I commanded, and we set to work prepping the bore. If we didn’t load up first, our entire struggle would be dashed like smoke in the wind. The group of redcoats pulled back from the cannon, and my bet was they weren’t picking daisies. From the looks of it, they prepared tinder. We had to move faster. We had to. Isabella shoved the cartridge inside and loaded the cannon ball in after. From where we stood, the British Merchant ship made a gargantuan target.

But we weren’t aiming for them. I veered the cannon’s view towards the Morlock ship sailing right between us and the Brits. As I held my hands over the fuse to shield from the rain, Isabella grabbed the tinder and lit it. Our future banked on this shot—everything from the fate of the Desire and her crew to the intact bottle of absinthe stored away in the Captain’s old dresser drawer that I sure as hell would open if we survived. If we failed, the British Merchant ship would load their cannons and blow us clear out of the skies.

“Fire!” I screamed, and we skidded back from the cannon.

A burnt smell sparked the air, and it exploded. We stood back as the projectile sailed towards the Morlock ship. We just needed one hit. Isabella’s hand pressed against my back. I didn’t reciprocate—my palms were clammy with sweat. A wind kicked up and whipped fresh droplets of rain into my face. My heart seized, because gusts like that would knock our cannon off course. I took in one more deep breath and closed my eyes. Forget watching. Forget worrying. My shot was true. 

Isabella’s fingernails dug into my shoulder. A deafening boom exploded in the distance, and I opened my eyes.

Our cannon hit.

Triumph sailed through me like the fireworks displays in Reno, and I slapped Isabella on the back. A laugh slipped from my throat. The cannonball caught the center of the Morlock aircraft, right in the gut of the ship. Chunks of wood flew into the air along with tufts of blackened smoke, which yellowed around the edges as the stern of the Morlock vessel caught fire. The boat plummeted straight into the cannon-lined starboard side of the British Merchant ship. Golden flames tore them up like a flash of lightning, right as the crash echoed through the skies. The static of the rain amplified the pregnant tension filling the air right before both ships tipped to plummet.

“There’s your distraction, boys!” I yelled through the caterwaul of the storm and raced across the deck toward the navigation bay. My blood pulsed through my veins, shooting me with a fresh start of adrenaline. We couldn’t spare another second to watch the imminent explosion.

Under the canopy of the navigation bay, my scalp received a respite from the pounding rain. My chest heaved, fighting the weight of my sodden clothing as I struggled to catch my breath. Geoff hunched over the aether regulator, and Spade had his hands on the gyrocompass, which whirled wildly around with the breeze.

“We need her moving now,” I announced through the pounding of the rain.

Spade shook his head. “The gyrocompass isn’t working. We’ve got no bearings.”

Geoff spat. “And a regular compass takes time. We’d have to calculate everything by hand then, and we still don’t have a direction.” 

As Isabella raced towards us, a couple strands of hair stuck to the side of her cheek. “Captain, the Morlock ship’s heading straight for the Brits. We need to go. Our diversion will only buy us so much time.”

“The gyrocompass—” Geoff interrupted and stood from the aether manipulators which pumped the green fluid up and down so wildly bubbles formed.

I slammed my fist onto the console, nearly hitting the regulator buttons. Behind us, the blazing Morlock ship flew five seconds away from crashing headfirst into the Brits. I threw a hand back and gestured. “That’s our distraction. Any more hits and we’re sunk.”

“Excuse me?” Adelle piped up from behind me.

“Not now. We’ve got to figure out a way to get our girl in motion.” I glanced at Geoff. “Are you sure you couldn’t calculate the bearings with a regular compass?”

He slammed a fist against the back of the overhang. “Not with this lack of time.”

“Captain?” Adelle’s gentle voice barely broke through the loud spattering rain. “I have our bearings.”

“That’s right—we’ve got a human GPS!” I grabbed her hands in mine and squeezed them tight. “Our gyrocompass is broken though. Do you think you can still manage to find a way out?”

She nodded and stepped up to the navigation bay. “We need to sail Northwest at once, and we’ll be able to pick up the nearest air pocket to get out of this storm.”

I tossed an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get going then. The Brits may have a monstrous ship on their hands, but they’ll have to tango with the flaming ball of fun lobbed their way. Our Desire can race against these odds.” I stepped up and wrapped my hands around the thrusters, taking control. The brittle air of the storm seeped into my lungs, and the rain hit my face with glorious, tingling drops. An excited laugh ripped from my throat. I met Geoff’s eyes, those dark, warm ones, before he flipped the switches on the aether manipulators. He understood. He always did. We were going to make it out alive.

“All right boys, let’s sail away! Show those bastards how airship pirates fly!”

The Desire’s engine throttled into overdrive, and we zoomed straight into the maelstrom, away from the merchant ship.