Steamed (31 page)

“Blah!” I sputtered, jerking upright, wiping water from my eyes.

“You didn’t have to drown him! Jack, are you all right? I couldn’t wake you, and I was beginning to worry.”

My eyes were a bit blurry, but at last I got them to focus on the most beautiful of sights. “Hello, Tavy. Why am I wet?”

“Azahgi Bahajir felt the best way to wake you was to dump a bucket of water on you. How do you feel?”

“Damp, headachy, and confused. How long have I been out?”

“About an hour.”

“Hell. Who’s Azerbaijan?”

“Azahgi Bahajir,” Octavia said, handing me a rough bit of blanket from the bunk.

“Azenburger . . . oh, screw it. Who is he?” I asked as I used the blanket to wipe my face.

“I am. Come,” a deep voice answered. I turned to frown at the man standing in the doorway. It was one of the thugs who’d attacked us. “Prince Akbar has commanded you be brought to him.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling that we’re not in Kansas anymore?” I asked Octavia as she helped me get to my feet. The room spun for a few seconds but quickly settled back the way it should be.

“I’m not sure where Kansas is, but we
were
in France,” Octavia answered with a delightful little frown between her equally delightful eyebrows. “Perhaps you’re muddled. Did you hit your head? Are you seeing double?”

I put my arm around her and glared at the behemoth in the doorway. He had to be at least a foot taller than me, and I’m no slouch at six foot three. “It was a joke, love. All right, Az. Take us to your leader.”

The Moghul rolled his eyes as he gestured for us to precede him.

I kept Octavia close to my side as we walked down a narrow corridor, and said softly to her, “The floor is vibrating.”

“Yes.”

“We’re on an airship, aren’t we?”

She glanced behind us to where the giant Moghul walked. “Not just any airship, but Akbar’s.”

“Damn.”

“My thoughts exactly. Jack, perhaps you ought to let me handle the situation with the prince.”

We reached the end of the corridor.

“Up,” Azahgi said, prodding me in the back with a scimitar and nodding toward a set of metal spiral stairs. “Prince Akbar awaits you on the observation deck.”

I let Octavia go first, tearing my mind from the contemplation of her legs as she climbed above me. “Why? Wait a minute. Don’t tell me he’s yet another of your boyfriends. I know you’re not on some sort of a guys- in-power kick because I’m just an average Joe, but damn, Tavy. Do you think we could go a couple of days without running into yet another former lover?”

“I told you before—I’ve only had three lovers, and you know about them,” she answered in what sounded like a growl. I reached the top of the stairs to find her glaring at me. I grinned.

“My apologies. You can talk to this Akbar guy all you want, but I’m not going to let him hurt you. And before you get all prickly again and tell me that you can take care of yourself, let me remind you that I’m the man in this relationship, and we like to do the protecting when it’s called for. Makes us feel like we’re doing our job.”

She continued to glare at me as Azahgi gave me a shove down the passageway. “Forward.”

“I’m very well aware that you’re a man,” Octavia said with only a fleeting glance at my crotch. “And I understand that, as such, you feel the need to be protective and aggressive toward those you consider a threat, but I am fully capable of taking care of myself, and moreover, I am more experienced in dealing with Moghuls. Thus it is logical that I should be the one to deal with Akbar.”

“It may be logical, but I’ve been kidnapped, drugged, and soaked with water. I’m going to have a few things to say about his idea of hospitality,” I grumbled as Octavia opened the door ahead of us.

“You have no idea what sort of person he is,” she answered.

“Oh, I think I took his measure pretty well the other day when I scared him off from raiding your ship,” I said. “Yes, he’s a warlord, but from what I saw, he’s not a maniac, and thus, he can be reasoned with. I fully intend to do the latter.”

“Jack—”

Wind hit us as the door swung wide, causing Octavia’s skirts to flutter behind her. She said nothing more, just gave me a warning glance before entering the observation platform. Unlike the forward version on the
Tesla
, this one was mounted on the side of the gondola, a long rectangular stretch open to sky above and earth below, with substantial black metal railing that presumably kept folk from plummeting off the airship.

A man stood at the railing, his arms braced as he leaned out, obviously watching the world slip by beneath him. He turned at the sound of the door closing behind us. I was a bit surprised that Azahgi had left us alone with the prince, but one look at the two aether guns strapped to either hip explained a lot.

“You are awake,” Akbar said in the same heavily accented voice I remembered from Rome. He was dressed much the same, in a long gold coat, white turban wrapped partially around his face, and dark goggles, no doubt to protect him from the wind on the platform. He pulled down the tail of the turban, revealing a fierce black mustache the approximate size of a dachshund.

“I tend to do that when people dump a pail of water on me,” I said, pulling Octavia close.

She made an annoyed sound and jammed her elbow into my ribs. “Jack, stop it.”

“I’m the man, dammit,” I told her. “I get to do this.”

“Not in front of others,” she hissed.

I gave her a look that spoke volumes, which she pretty much ignored, just as I knew she would. “Look, I have a job to do here—that’s to keep you safe. I’m not saying you can’t do that on your own. I’m simply pointing out that thousands of years of evolution have primed me for this very moment. I am biologically and emotionally engineered to protect you in times of threat. He”—I pointed at Akbar—“is a threat.”

“Actually, I don’t believe I’ve threatened either one of you.” Akbar thought a moment. “Yet.”

“Therefore,” I continued, ignoring the prince, “I will pull you to my side in an attempt to show him that you’re mine, just in case he has any funny ideas about you, as well as warn him that he’s going to have to go through me to get to you. I’m sorry if that offends your delicate sensibilities, but a guy’s got to do what a guy has to do. So just let me do my job, and you can do yours, and everyone will be happy.”

Akbar, his goggles glinting in the sun, nodded.

“And just what is my job?” Octavia asked, elbowing me again. “To stand around and look frail? To allow you to have your way without any regard to what is right or proper? To subjugate myself to you?”

I grinned at her, and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. “Ah, Tavy, you’re so damned adorable when you’re pissed. I like it when your eyes shoot sooty sparks at me. In fact, I think I’ll kiss you again just to rile you up a little more.”

“Jack!” she said, giving a startled glance at the prince.

“Eh? Oh. Sorry,” I told him.

“That’s all right,” he said with a shrug. “I understand.”

“You do?” I asked, surprised.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You are the man, as you say,” he said with another shrug. “It’s what we do. Women, they do not understand that. They say they do, but they really don’t.”

“I understand just fine!”

“I hear you,” I told him. “They tell us to be sensitive and understanding, to spill our guts about every little thought that goes through our heads, and the next minute, they’re screaming about a spider in the bathtub, and demanding we be macho spider-squashing he-men.”

“I like spiders! I would never squash one!”

“Frequently they do not make any sense,” Akbar agreed. “And the discussions they expect us to have regarding emotions—bah! It makes my blood curdle. It is one thing to admit to a woman that she is yours, that you regard her well, but that is not enough for them. They must have daily announcements of the state of your affections toward them.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving. You two can stand out here and be masculine together. I wash my hands of the pair of you.”

I tightened my arm around Octavia as she tried to leave the deck. “I have to admit that I don’t mind that so much. Usually if you tell a woman you love her, one thing leads to another and . . . well. You know.”

Beneath that giant black mustache his lips pursed for a moment. “Ah. There is that.”

We both looked at Octavia.

She glared first at Akbar, then at me. “You are sorely mistaken if you think I’m going to do anything but scorn you the next time you declare your love for me.”

“She’s crazy about me,” I told Akbar, giving her a squeeze.

“Argh!”

“I can see that,” he answered, putting his hands behind his back. “It makes the situation that much more regrettable that you have once again interfered with my plans.”

“What plans?” I asked, my amusement with Octavia fading as I realized that Akbar might not be quite the pushover I assumed he was.

“My plans to end the empire, naturally.” He turned to Octavia. “I understand that your ship was shot down by mistake. I would apologize for the inexperience on the captain’s part, but I find it difficult to mourn the loss of an enemy ship.”

“We could have been killed,” I said, anger firing inside of me. “Any of the crew could have.”

One shoulder lifted. “Perhaps. But you were not killed, and thus you were in Angers, and I knew you would make an attempt to stop us from reaching England. You will therefore be my guests until after we destroy your emperor. And as time is short, you will do me the goodness of telling me just what you intended to do to stop my attack.”

Octavia and I exchanged glances. “We had no plan to attack anyone,” she said, looking somewhat confused.

“You didn’t?” Akbar frowned. “Then what were you doing in the vicinity of my ship?”

“Trying to get tickets,” I answered sharply. “Because one of your men shot down Tavy’s ship. We didn’t even know you were in the area.”

Through the smoky lenses of the goggles I could see him eyeing me. “Did you not? Unfortunately, that matters little. We are, as you see, well across the Channel. Whether or not you intended on interfering with my plans, you will remain with us until we reach London in a few hours’ time. At that point, I will decide what is to be done with you. Until then, you may return to your quarters.”

“You’re taking us to London?” Octavia asked, an odd expression on her face. It was almost as if she wanted to laugh, but was struggling to keep her face straight.

“Yes.” He turned to look out over the English Channel. “I always prefer to keep my enemies within my sight.”

“That just means you have to watch your back,” I warned him as he waved a dismissive hand toward us. As if by magic, the door behind us opened, and Azahgi gestured for us to leave.

Akbar swiveled around to look at us. “From attack? By whom? You?”

“If you try this crap again, yes,” I said, trying like the devil to keep from whooping with joy. I scowled for good measure, and thought about shaking a fist at him, but decided it was too over-the-top.

Octavia waited until we were returned to the small cabin that was our cell before she collapsed with a weary sigh. “He’s taking us to London.”

I picked her up and twirled her around, kissing her soundly as I set her down. “Hours ahead of the train, right?”

She nodded, nibbling my lower lip. “At least four hours.”

“Then we’ll have that much more time to get to Hallie. Right.” I set her down and rubbed my hands as I looked around the room. “Let’s start planning our escape. We have a bed, a broken chair, something that I assume is a chamber pot, but don’t really want to know, and two thumbtacks in the wall. I bet MacGyver could manufacturer a flamethrower or small thermonuclear device from that, but we’ll have to make do with a simple smash and dash.”

“The simpler the better,” she said, then smiled, her eyes lighting with a glow that made my dick come to life. “Until then . . .”

She patted the narrow bunk.

 

“
W
hich way now?” Jack asked a few hours later as we caught our breaths.

I leaned against the rough wall of a warehouse, peering around him to make sure we hadn’t been followed from the Moghul ship. Jack was barely breathing hard, the uncorseted rotter.

“We’re at the river, so northwards. If we can get to a main street, we can get a cab,” I said. “I think we lost them when you insisted we double back.”

He beamed with pride. “Told you I knew how to handle a tail, even when it’s made up of seven murderous Moghuls.”

“Yes, well, they wouldn’t have been quite so murderous if you hadn’t been brandishing that chamber pot so effectively. I do hope you didn’t hit Azahgi too hard.”

“You of all people should know that I’m not going to whack someone’s brains out. I just tapped him lightly on the head.”