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  When she stepped onto the bridge, she almost turned around. Captain Pierce still sat at the helm. His shoulders hunched and his head drooped. If he’d fallen asleep, she couldn’t leave him without endangering the ship. She sucked in a deep breath and stepped forward, her hand poised over his shoulder.

  “Hello, Ever. Have a seat.” He hadn’t even turned around.

  Uncertain if she should, Ever eased into the other chair. “I thought perhaps you were asleep.”

  “And that brought you to the bridge in the middle of the night to check?”

  “No. I meant I came here and—”

  Spencer chuckled, a deep, throaty sound. “I knew what you meant. What are you doing awake?”

  “I could ask you the same,” she said, unwilling to divulge the contents of her nightmares or the fact that she’d had them at all, especially the one involving him.

  A gentle rise and fall of his shoulders seemed the only answer she would get. Minutes passed before he said, “I’d imagine something similar to what brought you up here on this beautiful night. Memories that won’t die and worries about the hornet’s nest we’re stepping into.”

  She shivered at how right he was. “I apologize for dragging you into this mess. I’m certain the princess can arrange for advance payment on your delivery, and once you have safely returned her to the Badlands, I will make sure you are duly compensated.” No matter how steady she kept her voice, Ever knew it wouldn’t be as simple as she’d made it sound. Another tremor rocked her body.

  Spencer shrugged off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “I definitely appreciate that, but I’ll tell you, in my experience, people step into messes of their own accord. You didn’t force me to save you. I just hope we’re the best people for the job you’ve got planned, because I sure don’t know who to point you toward.”

  Ever pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders as another chill ran over her spine. She tried to ignore the warmth from his body and the scent of him that clung to the fabric, even as another part of her wanted to wrap herself in it further. She forced her gaze and mind to the window, watching as light seeped into the night sky, bleeding it of color. She tried not to think about who was the best person for the job she had in mind at the moment. The one that had little to do with saving the Badlands. Instead they passed the rest of the night in awkward silence.

  Once the Dark Hawk was secured to the ground later that morning, Spencer and Zeke went off in search of Zeke’s father. It left Ever on the ship with Noah and the women.

  Noah cornered her at the mess table, his clothes and hair still disheveled from sleep. “So how in the blazes did you make it up that mountain in the first place?” He plucked a roll from the bowl in front of them. “And how’d you manage to bring down the other ship? Had to be some crazy shooting out there.” His head inclined toward Ever’s as if she would whisper the answer.

  “Nonsense,” Henrietta announced, sweeping into the room. “Ezekial shot down the dirigible. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Noah’s proximity might have made her uncomfortable, but Henri’s words were the first thing to pierce Ever’s barriers. She glared at the other woman, once more in an elaborate costume.

  Henrietta fluffed her hair and kept talking, pointedly avoiding Ever’s gaze. “After all, fighting is men’s work, and warrior or not, there is simply no possibility a woman could out-fight a man.” She batted her eyelashes at Noah.

  Ever’s muscles bunched, strained at the fabric confining them. She dropped the apple in her hand, the bite she chewed going sour in her mouth. It burned as it went down her throat. Her eyes squinted against the sensation. Gripping the edge of the table, her fingernails dug grooves into the wood as she fought to control her rage. “Would you care to see if the man here can stop me before I tear your heart from your chest?”

  Beneath her carefully applied powder, Henri’s face paled. Her eyes darted from Ever to Noah.

  Mahala just leaned back in her chair and laughed. “This should be entertaining.”

  “Miss Ever,” Noah said, his voice soft, soothing. “While I expect Henri deserves anything you care to dish out, I don’t think the captain would look very kindly on you killing the one person who can patch us all up.”

  Spencer’s face popped into her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing it away. But she didn’t want to put the ship at risk; they needed a healer on board. Her eyes shot open and Ever yanked up the sleeve of her shirt, exposing a row of narrow chevron-shaped tattoos. “Do you see these?”

  Henri nodded, her eyes fearful.

  “Each one signifies a prisoner I killed. One of the men your country thought too dangerous to house and so sent to the Badlands. Sent with bedtime stories about the women who patrol the borders to take them into custody. These—” she waved at the marks, “—are the men your people were too afraid to do away with. They sent them into the Badlands for me, and others like me, to do the dirty work. I have another arm like this one if you need to see it.”

  “That is hardly necessary. You’ve made your point. You’re a killer.” Henri lifted her head a notch, her eyes proud.

  Ever scoffed. “No, Miss High-and-Mighty, I am the executioner your lawmakers pretend does not exist.”

  Chapter Five

  “Because we need a place to store the blasted cargo, Thomas, that’s why.” Spencer paced outside the corral while the shorter and grayer Zeke look-alike groomed a huge chestnut stallion.

  Thomas spit into the dirt. “You still ain’t told me why you didn’t deliver it. I watched your ship come in from the west. You made it to the Badlands, so why’s the cargo still onboard?” He fixed his penetrating blue gaze on Spencer, his hand brushing dirt from the horse’s coat.

  Spencer turned away and scrubbed at his face. It was a standoff of the worst sort. He had to unload the cargo for speed’s sake, but he’d have to betray his promise of secrecy to some degree in order to manage it. Thomas was the only person here he knew well enough to trust at all. With a frustrated sigh, he met the older man’s eyes again. “There was trouble there. Political trouble. Some fool’s trying to overthrow the monarchy. We couldn’t set down in the middle of a battlefield.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. He prayed Ever wouldn’t hate him for it.

  “That so?” Thomas’s eyebrows reached skyward. “Ezekial said you brought a woman with you. One of their fighters.”

  Damn it, Zeke. “Rescued her is more like. She was bleeding to death on a mountain. Your son, the hero, dove down to get her.”

  Thomas turned back to the stallion. “Standard ten percent fee.”

  Uttering a curse under his breath, Spencer agreed. Just once it would be nice for people to do favors without skinning him in return. “Send Zeke back to the ship when he’s finished with his ride. I want to be airborne again by nightfall.”

  “If he comes back by then.”

  Spencer sighed. “I’ll be sure to check the saloon.”

  He turned from the corral and stalked off, calculating how much the ten percent was going to hurt. By the time he made it back to the Dark Hawk, the sun beat down from high overhead, burning through his thin shirt. At least he’d managed to figure out ways to trim his costs without anyone taking a pay hit. Though, if they got into trouble on the journey, it’d be bad.

  “Simple solution, Spence,” he muttered, “just avoid any damned trouble for once.”

  He strode onto the ship and to the mess, intent on eating before taking Ever out for some proper clothes.

  So much for no trouble.

  Ever squared off with Henri across the table. Her face was calm, but a storm brewed in her eyes and the veins stood out on her neck, like it was all she could do not to launch herself over the table at the woman trying desperately not to cower in front of her.

  Spencer cleared his throat. “What’d I miss?”

  Ever’s furious gaze turned to him; the storm dissipated and color rose in her cheeks. She sat down an
d picked up a discarded apple. Without a word, she bit into it with a loud crunch. Silent, Henri swept from the room, her face ashen. Another political fiasco he’d have to deal with. He didn’t expect the women to be friends, but couldn’t they at least try to get along?

  “Anyone?”

  Noah muttered something about checking on their repairs while they were on the ground and ducked out of the mess.

  Mahala just laughed. She’d tell him if he ordered her to, but he didn’t want to go down that road. Reminding her of being forced to answer to a master wasn’t something he intended on doing.

  “Ever?”

  She raised her eyes again. Now they blazed with defiance. “We were discussing the meaning of my markings and what my duties entailed back home.” Her expression dared him to challenge her.

  “And I’m certain the conversation was enough to give Henri fits for days, but as a general rule, it’s probably best to stay away from her unless you need medical attention.” He slid a hunk of cheese into his mouth and polished an apple on his sleeve.

  Ever clenched her hands, one nearly crushing her own apple, before answering. “That would indeed be ideal. However, your Henri insists on finding me.”

  Spencer cringed but didn’t correct her this time. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind getting away from her for a while.”

  Later, as they made their way through the streets of Austin, Ever remained tense, her eyes darting from side to side, looking for trouble. He laid a hand on her arm, happy for an excuse to touch her again. “Don’t be so jumpy. We’re as safe here as anywhere.”

  “The men here. They look at me like a challenge. It reminds me too much of the borders at home.”

  With a fairly good idea what she meant, Spencer glanced around them. Men leered, pointed, some practically salivated. Then he noticed the way the sun shone through the remnants of Ever’s skirt and cursed his stupidity, even as the sight made his blood race. The weapons she carried didn’t make a difference—from the waist down she might as well have been naked. “Will you trust me when I say none of them are looking to kill you?”

  The wind blew her hair back, exposing her tight jaw. “Few of them do, at least initially.”

  He fought the urge to comfort her. She wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead he steered her toward a building on their right. Inside the door, he yelled, “Brigid, I’m here to collect that favor!”

  A redhead in a utilitarian skirt and blouse came from a side room, wiping her hands on an apron. “Spencer Pierce. I wondered how long it would take you to come back to me.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled, but the corners of her mouth drooped slightly when she spied Ever. “Who’s your friend?”

  Ever stiffened next to him, and he rested the tips of his fingers on her arm. “This is Ever. She needs to be outfitted to work on my ship, and we could both use a bath if it falls within the bounds of the favor.” The bath wasn’t strictly necessary, and he was sure Brigid had expected to provide a favor of a different sort.

  Something in her face softened as she looked at them, and her hands fell from her hips. “Of course. Separately or together?”

  He felt Ever’s muscles tighten further. “Separate.”

  Brigid raised an eyebrow and said, “I’ll draw them up now.”

  Ever luxuriated in the bath, even as the water cooled. Though she’d bathed prior to dressing for the queen’s dinner, between the battle, her injuries and the gunfight, she hadn’t felt so filthy in months. She only wished the water could wash away her conflicting emotions.

  She shouldn’t be relaxing here; she should be doing something, anything, to get to Princess Laurette. The fact that her fastest mode of reaching the princess was grounded for the next several hours didn’t lessen the guilt.

  Then there was the captain. Damn it to the seven hells if she could understand why she couldn’t drive Spencer Pierce from her mind. Every time he touched her, she wanted more. She yearned for it in a way both primal and terrifying.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Ever, Spencer said y’all need to return to the ship soon. I hate to rush you, but if you want to try on the clothes—”

  With a longing sigh, Ever pulled herself from the water and dried off. “Yes. Thank you.” She opened the door wide.

  Brigid shrieked, averted her eyes and thrust a bundle of clothes at Ever. “Spencer said modesty wasn’t your strong suit, but I had no idea.”

  The way women outside the Badlands reacted to feminine nudity confounded Ever. Her body was no different than theirs. She stepped back into the shelter of the room and pulled the clothes on. The shirt was much like the one she’d been wearing, though this was a deep indigo. Ever held up the skirt with disdain and set it aside. It was far too much. While not up to Henrietta’s standards, there was no way she could fight in such an outfit. The pants, however, eased over her legs, the soft suede caressing them. Once she fitted on her weapons belt, she felt whole and stepped into view.

  Brigid took the rejected skirt with a sniff, but nodded. “It suits you. I’ll find a second set.” She handed Ever a large brush before heading back down the stairs.

  Standing in the light of the small window, Ever pulled the brush through her hair, removing the tangles one by one. When Spencer’s voice came from the open door, she jumped.

  “Now you look like a woman meant to be aboard my ship.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was a compliment, an insult, or an invitation, but she nodded. When she turned around, she found him staring at her, the look in his eyes almost hungry. Acting on impulse, she took one step forward, and the heat in his gaze disappeared as if it had never been. Ever bit her lip, angry with herself for imagining things, much less pursuing them. “Your friend said it was time to return to the Dark Hawk. Thank you for allowing me to linger in the bath.”

  “You needed the relaxation, but I want to be in the air tonight and daylight’s wasting.” He held out a pair of boots. “Try these on quick. Brigid doesn’t have much in the way of shoes, but she thought these might fit you.”

  Ever slipped her feet into them and the leather hugged her calves. “The heel is loose, but they are adequate.”

  He waved her toward the door. On their way out, he picked up a wrapped parcel from Brigid and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. “We’re squared up now. Consider your debt paid in full.”

  Giving a nod, Brigid said in a low voice, barely audible to Ever, “I hope it was worth it.”

  Spencer smiled and, with his hand resting on the small of her back, led Ever out the door and into the blistering heat. “We need to stop by the saloon to collect Zeke before we head to the ship. I’d offer you lunch there, but—”

  “That is quite all right. I do not believe you would have enough time to get me properly intoxicated before we needed to leave.” Ever froze as soon as the words left her mouth. What was she thinking? Fortune smiled down on her though, and Spencer didn’t even pause.

  He spoke without breaking his slow, even stride. “And here I thought you were too disciplined to imbibe. Maybe I’ll have to test that someday when we aren’t in a rush to save a nation from ruin.”

  Ever shook her head and caught up to him. She’d started the conversation and couldn’t shy away. “When we return with Laurette, I would think it the least I could do.” She cringed inside at the implication she would do more.

  The unflappable captain urged her to the side of the road as a stagecoach thundered past. “I look forward to it. For now though—” he held the door to the saloon open, “—we need to drag Zeke back to the ship.”

  Noise from an out-of-tune piano and too-loud voices made civilized conversation impossible, and the stench of spilled ale, sweat and urine made Ever thankful she didn’t need to open her mouth, much less eat in such an establishment. Spencer’s gaze swept over the crowd, and she realized she should aid his search if they wanted to depart.

  Men in various states of intoxication lounged around, leaning on the bar or sitting at rickety tables playing cards and
talking. In the back of the room, near the piano, several women in blouses that hung from their breasts swarmed around one table. The sea of skirts parted to reveal a grinning Zeke in the corner. With a sneer, Ever grabbed Spencer’s arm and pointed.

  He rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Stay here.”

  He might have said the words, but she couldn’t hear him over the din. Ever nodded and planted herself as near to the entrance as she could, hoping for the wind to pick up and blow fresh air through the swinging doors. Across the room, Spencer gently made his way through the women to Zeke.

  The bright expressions on the women’s faces faded as the big man stood to leave. Then, as one, they turned toward Ever, trapping her in their gaze. She stood tall under the scrutiny. While she had no particular issue with prostitution, she would be thrice damned if she let them think they were better than her.

  When the men finally reached her again, she turned to walk out, but a beefy arm wrapped itself around her waist and pulled her onto the lap of a man with unruly black hair and a scraggly beard. “Y’all ain’t leaving so soon, are you? The lady and I were just about to go upstairs and get acquainted.”

  Ever stiffened. The way the man held her blocked access to the weapons on her belt. Otherwise her instincts would have taken over and she’d have killed him already.

  Spencer planted Zeke by the door, and then stepped forward and took Ever’s hand in his while he spoke to the man. “Now, Andrew, she really isn’t your type, and we’ve got to get into the air again. There are plenty of ladies in this saloon who’d be happy for your money and attention.”

  What was he doing? Not that she particularly wanted Spencer defending her honor, but if he was going to bother, couldn’t he at least pull a weapon?

  “But I like this one.” The man’s fingers curled in Ever’s hair and tugged. She could hear him snuffling at the long strands. “She smells so sweet. And the way she walks around with all these toys on her belt—just makes me want to break her like a yearling filly. I promise it won’t take long.”