Hatshepsut's Collar (The Artifact Hunters #2) (16 page)

Miguel removed his blade. “I deliberately missed his heart.”

Cara balled up a torn strip of shirt, and stuffed the fabric under his uniform next to the slice and hoped it would suffice. Then she rifled under his jacket, and unhooked the chain of keys from his belt. She tossed it to Miguel. Hazel eyes so similar to hers glinted in the dark as he regarded the shapes and sizes, and considered the lock to open. He selected one and inserted it. Cara said a silent prayer, hoping the key would turn, otherwise they had numerous options to work through.

Click.
The door swung open. Nate lounged against the wall, staring out the window, watching the evening’s entertainment.

“You’ve put on quite a show.” He turned his pale blue gaze to his rescuers.

“If you want to stay and watch, then so be it, but we have limited time to get the hell out of here before someone remembers it might be a good idea to check on their sole prisoner.” Cara summed up the situation.

“Well, since you’re so concerned about my wellbeing.” He pushed off from the wall and exited his frigid prison cell.

In silence, they ran down the stairs and Miguel cast a wary eye around the alley. The soldiers were occupied either trying to hit the dancing airships through the moving smoke clouds, or repelling the ambitious lads with a ladder against the front wall.

They hugged the damp stone along the walkway to Traitors Gate. Nate paused and looked up at the little wooden sign visible with the light bouncing off the low hanging cloud.

“Really? Couldn’t you have gone down to the Tower wharf?” he muttered.

Cara gave a snort. “I thought it was fitting. And it’s a quieter entrance, not much used under Victoria.”

At the little wooden jetty, Miguel lifted the lid of the vehicle, and addressed Nate. “You’ll have to go first and squeeze back as far as you can.”

Nate nodded and dropped his body through the narrow funnel. Cara climbed in next, closely followed by Miguel.

Nate spread his legs and gave Cara a grin as she turned and settled in against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer to his chest. He nuzzled her neck. “Bunch up wife; it’s going to be a tight fit with someone of my size in here.”

The clang sealed them in the metal coffin and Miguel took up his seat. The screeching rumble diminished to a purr, and the lurch in Cara’s stomach told them they had dived into the water and peeled off to one side.

Darkness enveloped them except for the glowing green stripes. The metal closed in on Cara’s face. The small amount of air became hot with their heavy breathing from the excitement of the rescue, and their bodies drew heavily on the available oxygen. Panic tried to claw up her gullet, her breathing becoming short and shallow as her brain screamed there wouldn’t be enough air for all three of them. Protective arms tightened around her; lips grazed her neck and soft words of comfort washed over her.

“Relax, Miguel will take us to safety, and there is more than sufficient air until then.”

She closed her eyes to concentrate on the voice and the single heart beat pulsing through two bodies.

metallic scrape brought Cara out of her doze. Nate’s arms still wrapped around her waist and her head lolled on his chest. From under half-opened lids, she watched as Miguel flipped switches and pulled leavers.

Turning, Miguel grinned over his shoulder at her. “All safe and sound, we’re under the Gravesend Pier.”

She stayed in her cocoon of safety within Nate’s embrace as the young man crawled to the funnel and then reached up to unscrew the hatch. His torso rose and disappeared, his feet vanishing last. Fresh night air rushed down the open shaft into the narrow vessel. She took a grateful breath before sliding from her warm position and moving for the exit. Miguel had aligned the submersible with the steel ladder affixed to the side of the pier. Climbing from the underwater vehicle, she grasped a rung as she hauled herself out and continued up the side of the structure. Nate paused to close the hatch. The clink of his boot heels on the metal rungs followed close behind her.

Once up top, Cara stood on the rickety old pier and drew deep breaths of crisp night air.
We did it. That pirate’s hare-brained scheme actually worked.

Moonlight reflected off the calm river and turned the surface to a mirror. They stood on a pier suspended in space. Stars spun around and under the wharf as well as spiralling above. The horizon invisible, land and sky merged into one continuous, twinkling velvet blanket.

Nate slapped Miguel on the back. “Well done, lad.”

The lad in question blushed, but Cara saw him bask in the compliment.

Nate reached out a hand and cupped the back of her head. “Thank you,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the silken flesh of her neck as they waited for Loki.

She wanted to brush his hand aside, to give him a tart retort, but the depth behind those two simple words left her speechless.

They didn’t have long to wait before the sleek airship appeared on the horizon. She cut across the pastoral landscape to angle toward the river. The figurehead of a beautiful woman, arms outstretched behind her, clung to the prow of the airship. Her long, black hair flared around her face. She had elongated, golden feline eyes. Her lips curled back in a smile to reveal sharp canines. The carving was the wooden, and womanly, embodiment of Loki’s Hellcat.

The vessel hovered as low as Loki dared over the pier. A platform appeared above their heads, and a lone figure stood with an arm wrapped around the chain on one side. As the device sank lower, the man jumped free a mere foot from the wooden pier. Nate took the newcomer by the shoulder and gestured to the rope ladder hanging off the side. Brief instructions were given over the thrum of the Hellcat’s engines. The other man gave a nod and disappeared down to the waiting submersible.

Nate strode back to Cara’s side. “He’ll take the submersible carriage back to its hiding place. We wouldn’t want her falling into the wrong hands.”

“Of course not,” Cara drawled with thick sarcasm. “It’s the kind of contrivance that might appeal to, or even appease, a monarch.” She dropped a none-too-subtle hint of how he could extract them both from their current predicament.

Nate gave her one of his rare smiles, flashing even white teeth and scorching the wall of defense she tried to erect around herself. “Let’s discuss this top side. We’re not safe yet.”

Cara stepped up onto the slender platform, the chains reached back to the hovering airship. Nate and Miguel stood on either side of her. Nate looped one arm around her waist and grabbed the chain with his free hand. The platform gave a lurch as the winch kicked in and hoisted the three of them skywards, even as the Hellcat pulled away, ascending into the heavens.

Miguel gave her a wide grin, enjoying every moment of his adventure. She wished she could share his excitement, but then it wasn’t his life on the line, unless she pushed him off the swinging platform.

A dark hole in the side of the hull beckoned as they were hauled near. Two crewmen stood either side of the gapping maw. They steadied the chain as it wound up over the extended arms to the winch. The platform came to rest with a gentle bump, bobbing a foot away from the craft due to the curvature of the side. Nate jumped across and held out a hand for Cara. She gave him a scowl. She didn’t need assistance as though she were stepping from a carriage. Crossing the gap, she looked down, and paled, the Hellcat much higher than she anticipated.

Might have to add the fear of falling out of an airship next to claustrophobia.
He pulled her to his chest and she did not complain, needing the physical security with the ground swaying so far below.

Loki slapped Nate on the back, forcing him to release Cara. He grasped his friend’s arm in greeting while she glanced around the shadowy hold. Mesh encased wall sconces held battery operated lights and cast a soft yellow glow around the cargo floor. Boxes were strapped against the curved sides. Netting held smaller objects in place, so they did not shift during air manoeuvres. A steady hum vibrated through the floor and up Cara’s body, the noise emanating from the enormous engines.

The pirate had a broad smile plastered over his face. “That was fun. You should have seen those soldiers scatter when we dove on them.”

Nate watched the crewmen stow away the platform and roll down the hold door. “I could hear the music, but saw scant of it.” He turned his attention back to Loki. “My hosts didn’t assign me a room with a view unfortunately.”

“Bad luck. It was a slight miscalculation on their part having the ships tethered to the Tower. We were able to dodge behind them, and they couldn’t cut their lines to chase us; we were too close. They had to wait until we left before they could get underway.” He rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. “Time for a drink to celebrate.”

Loki led the way. From the cargo hold, they took a narrow spiral staircase and emerged at the end of a short corridor. A few strides down, Loki paused at two large sliding doors made of cherry wood. He pushed them aside to reveal the main compartment that served as mess and lounge. The walls were lined in the same wood as the doors. A wool carpet of rich red and green hues stretched underfoot. A dark, burnished table stood in the centre, surrounded by tapestry chairs stitched in complimentary colours to the carpet. Two sofas, covered in wide green and blood red stripes, were pushed into one corner for more casual seating. A coffee table between them bore an inlaid chess set.

The small tea chest nestled against the wall by the sofas, taunting Cara with its tightly nailed lid. She dropped herself into a chair at the end of the table and pointed at the innocuous container. Her curiosity could wait no longer.

“So what have you got in the chest that Victoria wants badly enough to throw you in the Tower?”

Nate stood next to her, his gaze flicking to the chest and back to her expectant face. “I think we should have a drink first. It’s not every day you escape the Tower of London.”

Cara narrowed her gaze, re-evaluating and embellishing her plan to kill Nate now they had rescued him.

Loki moved to a small sideboard and opened a cupboard door. He pulled forth a bottle and several shot glasses. He poured a couple of fingers of amber liquid out and handed one to Cara. She waited while Loki handed a glass to Nate and Miguel before picking up his own.

“To adventure and the friends who help us along the way,” Loki said.

They clinked glasses and downed the contents in one hit, slamming empty vessels on the table top. Cara and Miguel both coughed, her eyes watering, and she blinked back the rush of tears from the hit of whisky.

“Keep talking.” She waved her finger at Nate as Loki filled the glasses for another round. “You were about to reveal to your long suffering wife what is in the chest. And if it’s flesh and blood, why hasn’t it got an air hole?”

Nate threw back his head and swallowed a second hit of liquor. “The chest contains dragon eggs.”

Cara snorted, but no one joined in. Loki and Miguel didn’t look surprised. She drained her shot glass before daring to meet Nate’s steady gaze. “Do you expect me to believe in dragons? There’s no such thing.”