Alphas and Airships Page 4

  I stuck the bite into my mouth. Salty, beefy, and starchy. Divine.

  I sighed then got lost in my plate.

  I was on my third stout, which given I’d also had a Scotch, was one too many, when I realized that my level of flirtation with Ronald the tapster was getting quite ridiculous. I also realized that Agent Harper had never shown up. It was one thing to get distracted on the job because something was trying to kill you. It was quite another to get distracted by drink and bulging biceps.

  I had just risen and was setting some coins down on the bar when Roland returned.

  “Leaving?” he asked. I thought I heard some disappointment in his voice, but I wasn’t quite sure. My instincts invariably failed me in this department.

  “Need to meet my partner,” I said, motioning toward the door. Assuming I hadn’t already left her to an untimely death while I was busy dreaming of snogging a handsome tapster.

  He nodded then pushed my coins back toward me. “On the house. As thanks for whatever it is you do on behalf of the realm.”

  I cast a glance back toward where the kelpie and his girl had been hovering. They’d already cleared out. Off for some swimming, I supposed.

  I could do with a bit of swimming myself.

  Smiling at Roland, I said, “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head toward me. “It was nice to meet you, Clemeny.”

  “You too.”

  “I… I’m here most nights.”

  Don’t say something stupid. Don’t say something stupid. “Then I’ll be back for more potatoes.”

  And you said something stupid. Well done.

  He smirked. “Good.”

  With a little wave before I said anything else wholly ridiculous, I headed outside.

  Now, I had two problems to consider. First, I had very likely left Agent Harper behind to her certain doom. And two, I was the worst flirt ever. Seriously. Potatoes?

  Chapter 7: The Dark District

  One should never, ever drink too much on the job. That was one of the first things Quinn told me. In general, I was more for tea than ale, but between the Scotch, the stout, and the allure of the tapster, I found my head was far too swimmy for my own good. I cursed myself as I headed back to the inn. My balance was still a bit off due to the eyepatch. I realized I was zigzagging down the street like the local drunk. Wonderful. I pulled off my eye patch and steadied myself.

  The risk of being killed by a werewolf was not worth the flirtation. And besides, even when lusty images of Ronald the tapster came to mind, I found myself thinking about how getting involved in such nonsense would reflect on me. I didn’t want Agent Hunter to have any reason to think poorly of me.

  Cursing myself for my stupidity, I headed back toward the inn.

  The Edinburgh airship towers were alive with light. Ships flew in and out of the busy port. I stopped and eyed the markings on all of the balloons. No sign of Thor’s Hammer.

  “You won’t find her there,” a voice called from the alley on the opposite side of the street.

  At once, my stomach twisted with knots, and the palms of my hands prickled.

  Hell’s bells, I had drunk so much my sixth sense was off.

  I turned and looked toward the alley. To my surprise, with my mooneye, I saw a reddish glow surrounding the person—well, werewolf—leaning against the building.

  I stared at the man.

  Just as I had seen in my vision, he had long blond hair braided at the temples and an equally long beard. His tattooed arms were crossed on his chest. He wore striped pants and a heavy tunic.

  “Why are you looking for me, Agent Louvel?” he asked. His voice was deep and dusky, thick with a Norwegian accent.

  “Am I looking for you?”

  “You’re looking for the Fenrir. I’ve seen you up there,” he said, tilting his chin toward the sky.

  “Perhaps I am, Zayde Skollson.”

  He paused. I could see from his expression that he was surprised that I knew his name. “Perhaps you’d better find something else to do. Keep your nose on the ground with the professor and out of the aether. We have our own business aloft, and it had nothing to do with you.”

  “By business, I suppose you mean piracy,” I said, taking a step closer to him so I could see him better. I saw the glint of gold hanging from one ear.

  He smirked. Why do they always smirk? “Just a hustle or two. Nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Her Majesty was rather put out about her ship. And I really don’t like hearing of citizens ending up in the drink for a hustle.”

  The werewolf stepped toward me. He really was a massive creature. “And what are you going to do to stop me?”

  “Why, anything I can, of course.”

  “Lionheart doesn’t rule the skies. There’s a different alpha in the aether. Fenrir is lord there, and I am his son. Stay away, or you’ll pay the price.”

  I ran my hand across the pelt hanging on my belt. “Funny. Fenton told me something quite similar. Didn’t you, old boy,” I said, patting the fur. “And we all know how that turned out.”

  The werewolf’s gaze grew steely. “I won’t let you get in my way.”

  “Then I guess we have a problem.”

  The werewolf straightened then looked gravely at me. “It’s not worth dying over, Agent Louvel,” he said then quickly shifted form into a wolf. His fur was a light gold color. He looked at me, his eyes blazing red. A moment later, he turned and loped down the alley.

  And like a fool, I went after him.

  First, this was very likely a trick. Chances were good I was being led somewhere, presumably so I could be either killed or abducted. If not, I wanted to at least see where the werewolf had headed. If he wasn’t docking his airship at the Edinburgh towers, then where had he stashed his ship? Once again running in the direction of the monster—stupid, really—I headed into the alley. As I raced ahead, I pulled out my new night optic array. I slid it on and activated the device. A green light glowed, and a moment later, I could more easily make out shapes. The wolf darted down the street ahead of me. My head swam from the drink.

  Foolish, foolish, foolish girl. Never again.

  I grabbed my pistol. In my semi-inebriated state, if I carried my knife, I could very well fall on it and stab myself. All my senses in full alarm, I followed the wolf down the dark alley.

  But Edinburgh wasn’t London.

  Using the airship towers and Edinburgh castle on the hill as my benchmarks, I tried to keep my direction but quickly lost my way. Suddenly, I found myself at a juncture deep in the alleyways. I had no idea where I was, and I couldn’t see the castle anymore. Dimly lit streets trailed off in the cardinal directions. And in each alley, I spotted shadowed shapes.

  Hell’s bells.

  The wolf had led me into a dark district. All around me, I sensed the preternatural—and not just werewolves. Such places existed in London as well. Unless there was trouble, we Red Capes rarely entered such zones. If there was trouble, the alpha or other group leaders—such as they were—would handle it. Humans were persona non grata in such places. Maybe I could have gotten away with wandering through such a place in London without getting murdered due to my alliance with Lionheart—and the fact that I wore Fenton as an accessory—but I wasn’t in London anymore.

  I skidded to a stop. My heart thundered in my chest. I watched as shadows moved down the alleyway toward me. My head swam. Inhaling deeply, I began to slowly back away only to trip over something massive and metal. Jutting sideways, I fell to the cobblestone, scraping my lip in the process.

  I turned, my gun poised, to find a hulking metal creature with glowing yellow optics looking down at me. Standing beside it was a small, stoutly built man. He swore at me in a language I didn’t understand. He then activated the device in his hand. The hulking metallic creature lurked. The man and his monstrous automaton moved off into the darkness.

  As I gazed down the alley, I spied ruby red eyes in
the far distance. Much to my frustration, the image before me swam drunkenly. Foolish girl.

  “Agent Louvel?” a voice said, a hand reaching down toward me. “Are ye tryin’ to die?”

  I looked up to see the kelpie, Eideard, standing there. Taking his hand, I rose.

  Eideard cast a glance down the alley.

  “Looks like ye found yer wolves. But I suggest ye go that way,” he said, motioning behind us. “Even the Shadow Watch be not comin’ here.”

  “I… Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  I turned and looked back down the alley. The red eyes had retreated.

  Damned wolves.

  “Thanks again,” I told Eideard. “Watch yourself,” I said, eyeing the alley.

  Eideard laughed. “Wee babes, these. But now ye owe me a drink.”

  “Agreed,” I said. I smiled at him in thanks then turned and hurried out of the alley.

  All right.

  Okay.

  Well, I had almost gotten myself murdered, but now I knew a few things. I confirmed the name of the airship—the Fenrir—and got a good look at Captain Zayde Skollson. I also learned a little of his intentions—to rule the skies. Very well. We’d be nipping that in the bud.

  I also learned that there was at least one friendly preternatural in the city. But it seemed that Edinburgh was more ripe with problems than Shadow Watch let on. The taste of blood in my mouth and the throbbing of my sore, broken lip were also very poignant reminders that I wasn’t in London anymore. And that I had no business drinking more than three stouts while on duty. Or, at least, no more than two stouts but no Scotch. Or one Scotch and one stout. Ugh.

  Now I just had to make sure that my drunken mishap hadn’t put my partner in danger. If I wanted to make a good impression on Edwin Hunter, it certainly wouldn’t do to get my new partner murdered on her first day on the job.

  Edwin.

  That was a nice name.

  A smile danced across my lips followed by stinging pain. I rubbed the back of my hand across my broken lip, smearing blood on my skin. Good job, Clemeny.

  I headed back to Holyrood House Inn, which was reassuringly quiet. Moving quickly, I went to Agent Harper’s room. The door was still locked.

  I knocked heavily.

  There was a rustle inside. I couldn’t tell if it was a good rustle or a bad rustle.

  I knocked again.

  More rustling but no answer.

  I stepped back, preparing to bust down the door when the door suddenly opened.

  On the other side, looking decidedly bedraggled, was Agent Harper.

  “Clemeny? Did I oversleep?” she asked with a yawn. “Your lip is bleeding. What happened?” she asked as she pulled a dainty lace-trimmed handkerchief from her pocket. She handed it to me.

  I pressed the heavily perfumed fabric against my lip.

  “Get dressed. I’ll tell you along the way.”

  “Along the way? To where?”

  “To Shadow Watch.”

  Chapter 8: Shadow Watch

  I sipped a cup of tea in the front parlor of the inn, trying to get my wits together, as I waited for Harper to get ready. What was it that Fenton had once said to me? That I was either really brave or really stupid? Yeah, perhaps that old werewolf was right after all. If not for the kelpie, I would have been in trouble. I’d have to remember to make good on my promise to buy that old stallion a drink. Of course, that would mean I would have to go back to the pub. Sounded like a good idea a few hours ago. Now, running the risk of ruining my reputation with my new boss by botching a job because I got tipsy flirting with a tapster seemed a lot less shiny and bright. I didn’t want Agent Hunter to see me like that. That wasn’t who I was. And I should have known better.

  Quinn would have known better. He would have been there to kick my ass when I did something stupid like that, or at least watch my back after the fact.

  Now I had Harper, who had been in bed asleep while I was out working the case.

  Fabulous.

  I sighed and sipped my tea. I couldn’t blame her. What did she know? She’d only ever worked in administration. This was her first case.

  “Ready,” Agent Harper said as she stuffed papers into her satchel as she joined me.

  “What’s that?” I asked, eyeing up the documents.

  “Just some notes. I was trying to triangulate the pirate attacks, see if I could figure out the location of their home base. I think I have it narrowed down. Let’s see if Shadow Watch will take us aloft for a look.”

  Impressed, I nodded. “Well done.”

  Agent Harper beamed a smile at me. “Thanks, Clemeny.”

  Harper and I headed outside.

  Checking my gun, I held it in hand as we headed down the street toward Edinburgh Castle. To my surprise, the weapon didn’t attract even a little attention. I kept an eye out as we moved. My head was coming back to rights after a spot of Earl Grey. Thus far, no tingly palms.

  “So, I met the captain of the airship Fenrir,” I told Harper.

  Agent Harper stopped in her tracks. “You found him?”

  “He found me, more like.”

  “Did he…” She pointed to my lip.

  I laughed. “No. I tripped over the foot of an automaton being led by a dwarf.”

  “Dwarf? No. Would have to be a gnome.”

  “A gnome?”

  “Little people of the hollow hills. They’ve been emerging, drawn by all the new technology. It seems their minds are quite sharp for it. Scary buggers in their true form, from what I’ve heard. They’re shifters. They appear human, but their true form is not remotely as cute. Did you actually see the creature?”

  “Um. No. I did not.”

  “And what about the werewolf? What did he say?”

  “Bravado, bravado, bravado, death threat. Then tried to lead me into a trap in a dark district.”

  “A dark district?” Harper replied, a nervous tremor in her voice.

  “That’s okay. My white horse arrived in time to save me.”

  “Who? Also, I think the saying is a knight on a white horse.”

  “So it is, but I mean a white horse. Literally. A kelpie stepped in.”

  “Oh. That’s…unexpected.”

  “Anyway, this airship pirate thinks he’s the alpha of the aether, which was a new one for me. He’s either Norwegian or from one of the remote Scottish isles.”

  “That fits with what Lionheart told you.”

  I nodded. “Let’s see what Shadow Watch has to say, shall we?”

  Harper nodded. “This way,” she said.

  I knew that the Shadow Watch headquarters were located in Edinburgh Castle, so I was surprised when Agent Harper led me not toward the castle itself, but around its mountain base. Glancing back and forth from a note in her hand toward the rocky crag on which the castle sat, she led us to a single gaslamp at a jumble of rocks that remotely resembled a rough-cut stairwell in the cliffside. There, I noted the letters R. M. carved into the stones.

  I scanned around, trying to sense anything nearby. I activated my night optic. There wasn’t anyone nearby.

  “This way. Watch your step,” she said.

  We headed up the cliff.

  Feeling very grateful once more for Master Hart’s invention which showed the outline of the pseudo steps carved into the rock, I followed Agent Harper. We moved around a few jutting boulders and into a narrow pass. Ahead of us, we finally came across a very small, round metal door. It looked like the outlet for some kind of pipe. There was a wheel on the door, but when I grabbed it, it was stuck in place. I knocked on the thick panel. There was a hollow echo on the other side. The door had to have been several inches thick.

  “It’s a false door,” Agent Harper said. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a thin piece of metal. Under the moonlight, I could see that the metal had been punched with an elaborate array of holes. She eyed the round door. Noting a nearly invisible slot on the side of the door, she slipped the metal card insid
e.

  Harper motioned for me to step back.

  From somewhere inside, I heard a series of gears clang, and a moment later, the hatch opened. The metal card Agent Harper used popped out. Grinning, she took it, slid it back into her vest, and then motioned for me to follow her inside.

  We entered the narrow passage. It was so low that I had to duck to follow Agent Harper.

  Harper pulled a lever on the wall. The metal hatch closed behind us. The metal locks tumbled back into place. The door had locked itself once more. Everything went dark.

  “Damn,” Agent Harper swore. “I thought a lamp would come on. You go on. You can see better with your optic.”

  Groaning, I scooted around Agent Harper then headed down the narrow tunnel. “You know, I’m very sure they have a front entrance. This seems immensely impractical. Who gave you instructions on how to enter?”

  “Someone named Agent Walsh.”

  “And did you tell them you were working the case with me?”

  “I… I’m not sure.”

  I sighed. Some senior agents enjoyed messing with the rookies. When I first started, either Quinn stepped in or the other agents just decided I wasn’t a mark, but no one ever bothered me. But this was precisely the kind of prank I’d expect. And given Shadow Watch and the Red Capes had an ongoing rivalry, I suddenly had the feeling I was prey to a Scottish ruse. “All right. And where does this tunnel lead?”

  “Keep an eye out for a ladder.”

  “Good thing I have an eye.”

  “Oh, Clemeny. I’m sorr—”

  “Just kidding,” I said with a laugh then headed forward. “Seriously, they must have a front door. Next time, let me do the talking.”

  “You think they were just messing with me?”

  “Most definitely, yes.”

  Harper harrumphed but didn’t say anything else.

  Trying not to grumble under my breath, and bent in half, a position which my ginger-infused, stout-filled stomach did not enjoy, I worked my way forward. Sure enough, the narrow stone passage soon came to an abrupt end. There was a massive cavern before me and no way down.