A Tale of Two Airships (Take to the Skies Book 2) by Katherine McIntyre Read Free Book Online

shopfronts. Each turn brought us closer to this contact of his whose help we needed in a fierce way. However, this is where bravado served us best, because entering an exchange while desperate was a recipe to get taken advantage of. After all, blustering on in landed us into this gypsy mess in the first place.
    This section of the streets, globe lights with long brass stems lined the pathway, which must create a beautiful sight at night. Highbrow men and women passed us wearing more money in their heirloom rings and silken dresses and cravats than we pulled in a year’s worth of jobs. And the morons wondered why they got robbed when they waggled their flash in places like Shantytown.
    I squinted, scanning the street for the sort of bar I expected—a little dive or maybe even a modest café, somewhere with tight blinds and wedged into a corner. To be honest, I couldn’t imagine Mordecai’s friend would even operate business in this section of town. Bounty hunters didn’t associate with tripe like the rich unless for a job or gimmick. After all, who could stand the insufferable folks who tromped along these streets? The rich were oblivious to us miscreants who got shot at for the privilege of going to bed with a full stomach.
    Mordecai came to a halt in the middle of these fancy-dancy shops I wouldn’t be caught dead in, and my brows scrunched together in confusion.
    “Bea.” He turned to face me, a weary gaze gracing his features. “I beg of you, keep your pistol in its holster. By dragging our crew into a place like this, I’m already committing a thousand and one faux pas.”
    I placed my hands on my hips. “A place like what?”
    He tilted his head towards the nearest store. A brass lattice woven with morning glories bordered the rich green door. Violets bloomed inside the two ornate copper pots set by the stoop. The strains of elegant violin wafted through from the open window, almost as loud as the clouds of jasmine perfume leaking from the place. My stomach turned. As I peered into the window, I spotted what Mordecai referred to. The bar inside was the epitome of stuffy, a sort of nausea-inducing elegance that gave me a gleeful satisfaction at the muddy state of my boots.
    Try as they might, my crew wasn’t known for dainty soirees or tea with the rich, but it appeared we’d be making an attempt. The sign hung above the door with as fancy a name as one expected from a joint like this.
    I heaved a sigh before puffing my chest out and resting my hand on Matilda. Mordecai let out a groan as I flashed him a grin. “Let’s go make some new friends.”
    Grabbing the handle, I made my way into the Ivory Cup.

Chapter Five
     
     
    I’d never been inside a room preaching such elegance in my life. Not a stain or smudge existed on any surface in this place, making me wonder what sort of sorcery the owner performed. A woman in a bustle the size of France and a gentleman with more waistcoats than I could count sat by the fireplace whispering to one another. The moment I walked in, both turned and stared, awarding me one hell of a sneer. Too bad I didn’t play pin the tail on the social reject. I grinned extra wide, thrust my hips forward, and waggled my fingers at the pair. From behind me, Mordecai sighed. I promised I wouldn’t start any fights, yet no promises had been made about ladylike behavior.
    This place was small enough that after a minute of standing in the entryway, every eye locked on us as the patrons scrutinized the rough and tumble state of our attire. Not going to lie, I’d gladly get some new threads—after all, I’d been eyeing corsets and skirts in every marketplace to replace my blood spattered ones for an age now. But not all of us could afford the luxury.
    Isabella brushed past me, giving me the side eye as she made her way to the polished mahogany countertop. The woman behind the bar spun around, glasses in hand.
    Although she only indulged for a second, I caught the grimace as she made her