Zoe Archer - [Ether Chronicles 03] by Skies of Gold Read Free Book Online Page B

he was. Beneath all his wild hair, he looked angrily resigned.
    So much for keeping secrets. No way to hide this one: he was the Man O’ War captain of a British Aerial Navy airship.
    “Don’t much care if I’m rude or not,” he growled. “You’re not getting aboard.”
    She ought to leave it at that. Just turn around and head back to her cottage.
    “I saw these ships in action over Liverpool. But this is the closest I’ve ever come to one. I’m an engineer. How can I not see how they work?”
    Fletcher exhaled. Then nodded. He strode ahead.
    Kali followed, her heart throbbing with dread and determined excitement.
    H e had to be a fool. Or mad. He was certain the moment Kali set foot inside the ship, his haven would be gone.
    Yet she’d been at Liverpool. She had a right to see what had helped tear her life apart—though she hadn’t phrased it in exactly those words.
    He paced ahead. He should’ve known the moment he saw her that his burial on the island was over. She’d drag him back to the realm of the living—to the danger of everyone.
    Even worse, when he’d spotted her moments earlier, a jolt of pleasure hit him. As if he’d actually wanted to see her again. Signs of life within him that he didn’t want. Easier to be dead, numb.
    “What’s her name?” she asked behind him.
    “ Persephone .”
    “Pretty.”
    “Wasn’t me that gave the name to her.” They’d gotten closer to the airship, and as they did, he felt it pulling upon him, that slight gripping sensation through his body, as Persephone drew on his implants to feed its batteries. He’d grown so used to the sensation, he barely felt it anymore.
    The keel had been smashed into the ground, and half the hull had been buried with the impact. But that still left the other half aboveground, its portholes and gun ports staring out at the moor. As he and Kali reached the ship, she frowned at the remainder of the hull. Twenty feet of airship towered above them.
    “There’s no door,” she noted.
    “Don’t need one.” He leapt and grabbed onto the railing at the quarterdeck, then pulled himself up. Standing on the top deck, he braced his hands on the railing to look down at her. Her mouth had dropped open and her eyes were round as cannon shot.
    “I’d heard Man O’ Wars were strong, but . . .” She shook her head.
    “Nothing to twist your wrench about. We can all do that.” They’d taken him and other recently-made Man O’ Wars and trained them for nearly a year before letting them out into the world. Strength like theirs, unchecked and unknown, proved a greater liability than asset. Still, there had been mishaps and accidents.
    He could leave her down there. Keep her from boarding and preserve the solitude of his crypt. Instead, he picked up a rope and tossed one end down to her.
    She looked at the rope, smiling darkly. “I used to be damned good at climbing. Not so agile anymore.” She rapped her knuckles against her prosthetic leg.
    “Grab one end. I’ll pull you up.”
    For a moment, it looked as though she’d refuse. Beneath the spice hue of her skin, she’d gone ashen. But she gripped the rope, then looked at him and nodded.
    He pulled. She weighed so little, and his strength was so great, that she practically soared up the side of the ship. She actually let out a small gasp. And then suddenly she flew over the rail. Right into his arms.
    She let go of the rope and grabbed onto his shoulders for balance. At the same time, he dropped his end of the rope and wrapped his arms around her to hold her steady. They pressed against each other, chest-to-chest, their faces mere inches apart. Her warm, startled breath fanned across his face. Close as they were, he caught all her scents: wool, tea, machine oil, cool air, and warm woman.
    Pulling her up the ship hadn’t raised his pulse. Now it thudded through him.
    They stood like that for . . . he didn’t know how long. Time drifted like the mists as he held her—the first