“We’re under attack,” she said, turning her head slightly. Her mouth was suddenly close to mine, far too close for me to be able to think with any cognizance.
I stared into her lovely brown eyes, eyes that seemed to be simultaneously innocent and wise beyond their years. Her irises flared, showing she shared the attraction I felt, and I hate to admit it, but I might have just forgotten everything and kissed her right then if a shadow hadn’t flickered over us.
She ducked again, and instinctively, I pulled Hallie to the ground as I flattened myself. I peered through the feet of the boiler, catching sight of several pairs of shoes. “Who?” I mouthed at Octavia.
She held her finger to her mouth and slowly, cautiously pulled herself up behind the boiler, peering out in the small space made by a pressure gauge and the body of the boiler. I did likewise.
A tall, whipcord-thin man strode past us, his coppery hair shimmering in the gaslights. He was yelling an order in French, something about securing their prize. He gestured for a moment toward the stern, then hurried out of the room. The two other people with him, both men, followed.
“Etienne,” Octavia said almost inaudibly.
“Who?” I asked just as softly.
She hesitated for a moment, sliding me an unreadable glance. “Etienne Briel is the leader of the Black Hand.”
“The who, now?”
“They are the revolutionary group I mentioned a few days ago.”
“Oh, yeah. Them.” I gave her a long look. She blushed.
“Do I take it you know this Etienne?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Her blush deepened. That was all the answer I needed.
“OK, then. If you know him, why are you hiding?”
Her lips thinned. “He is stealing my cargo.”
“In other words, he’s using you?”
She didn’t answer, but her lips tightened.
Anger boiled in my guts. Octavia’s face was devoid of emotion, but she was a woman who valued her control, and I knew she had to be furious at a former lover just helping himself to her precious cargo. I also knew why she was crouched down behind a boiler rather than defending her cargo from an acquaintance—she was protecting Hallie and me.
Guilt added to the anger.
“I’m not going to hide here and let him treat you this way,” I said grimly, not sure how, exactly, I was going to stop them.
“Jack?” Hallie asked as I got to my feet.
“Mr. Fletcher, get down or you’ll be seen,” Octavia hissed, tugging my arm.
“I don’t care. It’s because of us that you’re in this mess, and I’m not going to stand by while someone ruins your first trip. I know how important it is to you. Hallie, stay here with Octavia. I’ll come back for you when the coast is clear.”
“Jack!” she moaned as I slipped around the side of the boiler.
“Mr. Fletcher, please!”
I ignored Octavia’s plea and peered out into the boiler room. It was now empty, but the door had been left open to the gangway, and I could hear men’s voices from the fore of the airship. I crept toward the doorway, peering around intently for any sign of a rope or cord, or something I could use to restrain the revolutionaries.
I paused at the door to pinpoint the location of the voices, and almost lost it when something bumped into me from behind.
“Octavia!” I whispered furiously as I spun around to see who had attacked me. “I thought I told you to stay with Hallie.”
“You told her to stay with me, and she is.”
I glared at my sister, who stood behind the captain.
“Don’t give me that look. We’re not weaklings,” Hallie snapped back. “We’re not feeble little things who have to cower in the back while the big, bad man goes out and saves the day. Stand aside, brother, and let me show you how a black belt deals with troublemakers.”
She pushed past me into the gangway in a burst of short-lived bravado.
“You don’t have a black belt,” I pointed out, grabbing her arm to stop her.
“I could if I wanted to.” She shrugged her arm out of my grasp, but I was faster and bolted ahead of her and Octavia.
“Fine. You can come with me, but I will go first. And don’t give me any crap about it.” I turned and marched down the gangway, realized what I was doing, and slid into a stealthy, ninjalike movement instead.
“Mr. Fletcher, this is not necessary,” Octavia said, tugging at my sleeve. “The revolutionaries are very dangerous. I would feel horrible if something were to happen to you.”
I tossed a grin over my shoulder at her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I may not believe in lethal force, but I do know how to take care of myself.”
“No, you don’t understand.” She bit her lower lip, her hands wringing themselves. “Oh, it’s so complicated. . . . There are circumstances of which you are not aware, and they—”
Another blast shook the metal frame of the airship. Hallie screamed. I dashed down the spiral staircase to the level that held the entrances to the cargo holds, Octavia’s boots sounding on the metal steps behind me.
“Mr. Fletcher, please stop! There is no need for you to act the hero!”
I leaped the last couple of feet down the stairs and bolted down the hallway. One of the side doors flung open, and Mowen and the lecherous cook jumped out, two oddly shaped guns in their hands.
“You go via the forward passage. I’ll drop down from the rigging,” Mowen ordered.
The cook stared at me in surprise for a moment. Mowen shoved him toward the front of the ship. “Move, man! There’s no time to stand about gawking!”
“Mr. Mowen! Francisco! What are you both doing still on board the ship?” Octavia demanded, pushing around from behind me. “You were supposed to disembark earlier when the officials left!”
“Wanted to make sure all was well with our passengers,” Mowen replied hurriedly, shoving a gun into my hands. “You take this and guard the captain.”
“I do not need anyone to guard me!” she gasped, outrage visible in the fiery glare she gave him.
“I’m sorry, but I have a policy against guns,” I said, trying to give it back to him. “I make it a habit never to kill anyone.”
“Shoot them in the legs, then,” he snapped, and ran up the stairs we’d just come down.
Hallie, who had been descending carefully, clutched me when she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Jack, what are we going to do?”
I stared at the gun in my hand. Like the one Octavia wore strapped to her belt, it was of a rounded shape, with brass tubing and a small crystal set into the grip. The crystal glowed green now. I had a horrible feeling that indicated the safety was off it.
“We will do nothing,” Octavia said firmly. “There is nothing to be done. The revolutionaries will not harm you, I promise.”
“How can you promise that?” I asked, frowning.
She hesitated a moment, then grabbed my arm and pulled me into the mess. Hallie followed. “You force me into a very uncomfortable admission. I trust that it will go no further than this.”
“Does it have something to do with the people attacking the ship?” Hallie asked.
She hesitated again and a dim light of understanding dawned. “You aren’t at all surprised that they attacked, are you?”
She shot me an odd look.
“You expected it.” The dim light grew brighter. “You knew they were going to attack and take your cargo, didn’t you?”
“You’re a revolutionary?” Hallie asked, looking incredulous.
Octavia closed her eyes for a moment. “I was told that the revolutionaries would be attacking when we landed, yes.”
“Told by whom?” I asked.
She twisted a small garnet ring on a finger of her right hand. “Does that really matter? The fact is that we are in no danger from the revolutionaries. You, however, have shown yourself to Mr. Francisco, and although I have no reason to believe he would betray your presence, it would have been wiser
had you stayed back as I asked.”
I watched her closely, noted how the pupils in her lovely brown eyes constricted ever so slightly. “Just how well do you know this Etienne? Is he another one of your boyfriends?”
I swore she ground her teeth. She certainly gave me a look that should have dropped me dead on the spot.
“Are you implying that I have carnal knowledge of every man whose name I know?”
“No, and you’re changing the subject. Is he one of your lovers?”
Her fingers twitched, like she wanted to throttle someone. “Was! Since you insist on knowing, I admit it. I hope that satisfies your rampant curiosity! Now will you give me that Disruptor, and go back to the boiler room, where it’s safe? I must go stop my crew from harming themselves or others!”
“That deranged cook of yours has already seen me,” I said, following her as she stomped out of the mess. Hallie squeaked something and ran after us.
“I have enough to do without ensuring nothing further happens to you,” Octavia answered as we hurried down the hall. She stopped to make shooing motions at Hallie and me.
“I told you I can take care of myself,” I said, then realized I still had hold of the gun. I stuck it in my pocket.
“And I can do it without lethal force. Let me go first and look to make sure the way is clear.”
“For the love of the moon and the stars,” she said, sighing loudly as I pushed past her. “Does the man not have ears? Mr. Fletcher, I told you that I will come to no harm with members of the Black Hand.”
She tried to pass me as she spoke.
“Look, I may not be much of a he- man, but I am a man, and I consider it my duty to put myself between potential danger and people I care about, OK? So let me do my job!”
She stopped, giving me a curious look. “You . . . care about me?”
“I don’t generally kiss women I dislike,” I answered, pausing at the door to one of the cargo holds.
“You kissed the captain?” Hallie asked, giving her a speculative look. “Well, now. That’s interesting.”
“It was an aberration,” Octavia said quickly.
“Like hell it was,” I said, tossing a grin over my shoulder at her. “It was hot and you know it.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out.
I carefully opened the door a few inches and peered in. The far wall of the cargo hold folded back to allow access to the contents once the airship was landed. Sunlight and noise filtered in through the opened wall as a handful of men and women hurriedly removed the wooden crates filling the hold.
“You’re sure those are your revolutionary buddies?” I asked as we all ducked behind the nearest crate.
“Who else would be purloining my cargo?” she countered.
“You seem to have an interesting past, and an even more interesting collection of friends,” I said softly, close to her ear. I breathed in the scent of her, a light floral perfume that had overtones of honeysuckle. I’ve never been one for perfumes much, but this one tormented me, leaving me with an almost overwhelming urge to taste her. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all if there were any number of people who wanted to get into your cargo.”
She shot me a startled look, obviously not quite sure if I meant the innuendo. I let a hint of a leer curl up the edges of my smile.
“There really is no need for you both to endanger yourselves,” she said. “The Black Hand will not harm me, but I cannot guarantee your safety. If you insist on staying here, remain hidden behind this crate of uniforms while I go look for Messrs. Mowen and Francisco.”
“Not on your tintype,” I said cheerfully, following as she skulked over to another large crate. “Whither you go, so goest me.”
“You’re not leaving me alone, either,” Hallie said, grabbing the back of my coat as we crouched our way along the wall.
Octavia sighed heavily, but said nothing more. I beamed at her bustle as she clutched a crate and peered around it. What a smart woman she was. She knew when arguing would be futile. Smart, sexy, and fascinating—it was a heady combination, and I knew unless I watched myself, I would be a goner to her charms.
Octavia stopped, poking her head around a crate, hissing something. I peered around her. The engineer and cook had evidently been sneaking around the edges of the hold with the intention of ambushing the busy revolutionaries as they unloaded the cargo. Upon hearing Octavia, however, the pair crab-walked their way back to us, keeping their heads down.
“Captain! You shouldn’t be here,” Mr. Mowen said softly.
“My most luscious one, my beauty, my flame of the brightest sun. What Mowen says is true—you should not be here. You should be in the room of bedchambers, awaiting me to pleasure you as you have never been pleasured,” Francisco said, puffing out his chest even as he glared over her head at me.
“Look, I don’t know why you have such a hard time understanding that Octavia isn’t interested in you, but you seriously need to knock it the hell off. She’s not interested—got that?”
“I hear the flying gnat buzzing,” Francisco said, waving his hand in the air as if flapping away a fly. “Just a small, insignificant gnat of the most unwelcome.”
I sighed. Octavia said, casting a swift glance at me, “That will be enough, Francisco. You will please both of you go back to your quarters.”
“But the revolutions! They are here to take your so-precious cargo!” Francisco protested. “I cannot allow my beloved captain of the flames to be robbed!”
“I understand and applaud your reticence to allow such a thing to happen,” Octavia said, her chin lifting. I loved that chin. She had a tendency to lift it when she gave commands, and the sight of it tipping up just made me want to kiss her. “But in this case, I will not have any of my crew’s lives put at risk. Return to your quarters at once.”
“What about you, Captain?” Matthew Mowen asked, giving first her, then me, an appraising glance.
“I’ll see that she comes to no harm,” I said, giving him a nod.
“I will follow shortly,” she said, shooting me an annoyed look. “I just wish to make sure that the revolutionaries don’t attempt to harm the ship. Then we will retreat, as well, and await the officials that are sure to come.”
Mowen stood his ground for the count of twenty, but eventually he succumbed to Octavia’s demands, and both men exited the cargo hold by the entrance we had just used.
“You lie very well,” Hallie said, her gaze resting thoughtfully on Octavia. “I hadn’t expected that of you.”
A faint flush of pink rose in Octavia’s cheeks. “I prefer to speak only the truth, but in this situation, I felt a lie was justified in order to save my crew members’ lives.”
“So no one else in the crew is a member of this group?” I asked as she crawled over to the next crate.
“No, of course not!” she whispered back. “I don’t suppose it would do any good for me to request, yet again, that you and Miss Norris return to your hiding spot?”
“None whatsoever,” I said cheerfully. She turned her head to glare at me and caught me ogling her ass.
“Mr. Fletcher!”
“Jack.”
“Might I remind you that I am the captain of this airship?” she said, sitting abruptly on her heels.
Behind me, Hallie giggled.
“I’m a man. You’re a woman, a damned attractive woman. Your ass was right there, demanding I give it the consideration due it. I couldn’t help it that consideration came in the form of an ogle.”
“My derriere has never demanded anything from anyone, not that you were looking at it in the first place, as the previously unwarranted discussion about bustles should have proven,” she said in that huffy tone that I was beginning to love. “Now, am I going to be able to proceed without you subjecting my person to inappropriate scrutiny?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so, no. I’ll try to rein it back if you’re seriously offended, but as I said, I’m a man
. I can’t help but admire the body of a woman who I . . . well, admire. And bustle or not, if you’re going to waggle your booty in front of me, I’m going to notice it.”
She gestured in front of her. “Very well. Since you are unable to control your manful lusts, you may precede me.”
“Manful lusts. I like that term. If Jack’s manful lusts get to be too much for you, Octavia, just whisper the phrase ‘sexual harassment’ in his ear, and he’ll stop. Probably.”
I winked at Octavia as I crept past her, moving as stealthily as I could down the far wall, running at a right angle to the wall that had been folded back for unloading. I was just about to ask Octavia what we were looking for when a muffled explosion sounded. We all froze.
“That wasn’t on the ship,” I said, not feeling any vibration in the metal floor.
“No. It came from the aerodrome.” Octavia clutched my shoulder as she peered around me, her face tight with worry.
“Are the revolutionaries blowing up the buildings?” Hallie asked, poking her head above mine to look. The workers who had been unloading Octavia’s cargo ran outside, shouting to one another. In the distance, we could hear other voices, people calling out questions, and, above that, a high, droning sound.
Octavia froze for a second, her head tipped as she listened intently.
“That sounds like . . .” I stopped and dug through my memory. “It sounds like the show some Bedouins put on when I was in Saudi Arabia. What’s it called? Ululation?”
“Not Bedouins,” Octavia said, leaping to her feet. Hallie and I followed suit. “Moghuls!”
“What on earth are moguls doing here?” Hallie asked.
“Not the Donald Trump sort of mogul, Hal,” I said. “The kind from the Moghul empire.”
Gunshots sounded above the screaming, but they were hollow-sounding gunshots, not the sharp bark I was used to. We ran as a group to the edge of the opened wall, and stared out at pandemonium.
Below us, the field of the aerodrome lay, grass and dirt spread out before us like a smooth carpet, edged on one side by small one-story buildings that were probably offices or terminals of some sort. Two other airships were parked on the field—one close to us, the other visible in one of three hangars that sat on the far side of the field.