Kiss of the Spindle

by Nancy Campbell Allen

  Isla looked back at the group. “Nigel!”

  He joined them as Daniel lowered her into the boat with Samson. Nigel and Daniel pushed the boat into the water, and Isla breathed a sigh of relief when they both climbed in. Samson rowed them swiftly into the deepening water and Isla looked back at the beach in time to see the three men disappear into the island’s interior. She hoped they had enough time to put some distance between themselves before midnight hit.

  “They’ll be along presently,” she mumbled and leaned against Daniel’s arm.

  Nigel shook his head. “Please do not insult me.”

  “They have hurt no one. Ever. Have never broken even one law.” Daniel’s voice was even, calm, and he wrapped his arm around Isla when she sagged forward.

  “I am aware of that.”

  Isla fought to keep her eyes open. “Been such a long day . . .” She hoped desperately that if she went under before Daniel could get her away from Nigel, that it would take some time before she turned blue or looked dead.

  Daniel cursed under his breath and pulled Isla across his lap. The monkey squawked in protest, and she realized belatedly that she’d meant to leave him on the island. “Take you back in the morning, then . . .” she said and held the warm little body close.

  Daniel murmured something to Nigel about being glad he’d realized it was so late in the evening, and the last thing Isla saw as her eyes fluttered closed was Nigel’s nod to Daniel, his face grim.

  Daniel stood with Samson in the wheelhouse, preparing for flight. It was nearly six in the morning, and he was eager to leave for Port Lucy. They were past the three-day Full Moon Phase, but time was running out for Isla. Their forced holiday had come to an end, but he was loath to fire up the balloon and ascend before Isla had a last look at her beloved island.

  Daniel had sent Samson back to the beach after they’d returned from the celebration to pack up the remains of the party. He was the only being who could safely see to the task, as shifters in animal form had never attacked a ’ton. To date, at least. Daniel had stood on deck and watched anyway, just to be certain.

  When the morning skies filled with clouds and a light rain began to fall, he shook his head from the irony. He’d told Crowe they had detoured specifically to avoid the weather. The storm would be small, however, and Daniel had checked and then rechecked multiple operating systems in the engine room to be certain that even in a heavy storm, the powerful ship would sail through it without problems.

  It seemed fitting that the weather was gloomy the day they left the little island paradise. Daniel checked his watch for the third time in five minutes and decided to wait in his cabin for Isla to awaken.

  He tidied his belongings and then paced quietly for a few minutes, wanting to give her a moment to compose herself. Yesterday had been one of the most disorganized days of his life, but seeing Isla’s reaction to her celebration and the fuss they’d caused made all the chaos worth it.

  He sighed. And then he had ruined it spectacularly. If anything had shown him how unfit he was to be married to anyone, that was it. Isla deserved more than another person who would need her care as an empath, more than someone who might imagine she was the enemy and choke her in her sleep. Or take her to the ground with more force than he realized, should he have another spell.

  He heard a soft screech and rolled his eyes at That Thing Will Never Board My Ship. The little monkey had stayed by Isla’s side long after Daniel had placed her in bed, patting her face and smoothing her hair. It appeared the little fellow wondered as much as the rest of them if she were still alive at night. Daniel had tried to lure the monkey away to leave her in peace, but the primate had stubbornly remained seated next to her head the entire night, restlessly patting her face and smoothing her hair.

  “Good morning, monkey,” he heard Isla groan.

  He’d watched her awaken the day before, his heart in his throat, and it seemed as if she pulled herself up from the dregs of something heavy and dark. Her eyes had been ringed with shadows, frightened, as she’d blinked herself awake, clawing for the surface.

  The monkey began chattering, and Daniel couldn’t say he blamed the little thing. The first time he’d realized Isla did indeed awaken from that dreadful sleep, he’d nearly chattered himself.

  “No, ow . . . You’re sitting on my hair . . .”

  Daniel knocked on the open connecting door and peeked around the corner. “Good morning.” He swallowed and entered when she pushed herself upright. Veins showed beneath her light-blue skin, and lines of discomfort bracketed her mouth. He would never get used to the sight of it and knew that, try as he might, he would never forget it.

  She shook her hands. “Ugh.” She smiled, but it was weak.

  He moved to her side and took her hands, rubbing first one and then the other.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Warmth—the loveliest sensation ever.”

  “I thought you might want a final look at the island before we ascend.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she smiled sadly. “I shall miss it.” She glanced at the monkey in some alarm. “We need to take him back!”

  “The others should be here shortly, and we can see if the little menace will go back with Bonadea. I didn’t figure you would want to go tromping through the salt water yourself.”

  She looked at the monkey with a sigh. “No, I suppose not. I never did think of a suitable name for him.”

  “I think ‘Monkey’ suits him quite well.”

  She laughed. “Very true. ‘Monkey’ it is.” She looked up at him. “What happened last night with Nigel after I fell asleep?”

  “He knows about the others, of course, but we didn’t discuss it. When I carried you onto the ship, you were so far unconscious you didn’t move a muscle or sigh. I told him you must be a deep sleeper. He didn’t ask questions.”

  She chewed on her lip. “He hasn’t insinuated anything about me being in this cabin since the beginning of the voyage when he made snide comments about everyone all the time. I hope he doesn’t think that I . . . that we . . .” She winced.

  “He doesn’t. None of them do. They all know you, your character.”

  She nodded. “It’s only that I have worked so hard to build a good, respectable, and professional reputation for the sake of my career, especially as a woman, and I certainly mean no offense to you . . .”

  He laughed and motioned for her other hand, which he rubbed briskly. “Offended because you don’t want people to believe we are having an illicit affair. Hmm. I am grossly offended, Dr. Cooper.”

  She blushed, and he was glad it was visible. The sickly blue tinge was fading.

  “My ego suffers from the truth, but persevere I must,” he said.

  “I am certain your ego will reclaim its former health as soon as we arrive in port. Any port, probably.” She pursed her lips. “Your reputation precedes you, Captain Pickett. I would wager you have many friends in many places.”

  He smiled softly. “Not so many as you might imagine, Dr. Cooper.” He paused, still holding her hand which was warming in his. “Isla, I must apologize for what happened—”

  “No, truly, you—”

  “Please. Please let me do this. I am mortified. This condition . . .” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Whatever is wrong inside my head, I thought the one time it had happened before was just that—one time. Apparently not, and I am concerned for those around me, those close to me. It sickens me that I may have put you in harm’s way, may have hurt you. I know you will say it is fine, that you are well, but to my mind, it is not fine, and I can never make amends.” His throat felt thick, and he forced himself to stay put and not run from the room like a coward.

  “Now may I speak?” She raised a brow, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. “Both you and Lewis believe that there is something inherently wrong in your minds, but I have
long suspected, as have others in parallel fields, that your behavior is a result of your prior experiences. It seems clear enough, would you agree? It certainly never happened to you before you fought in a war.”

  He nodded.

  “Because there was an inciting incident that set the precedent for subsequent behavior to follow when reminded of it, there will be methods to employ, therapies to try, to modify future behavior. To be prepared for situations like last night.”

  “That was a lot of words.”

  She shook her head. “We can fix this, Daniel. Perhaps you may always carry some level of anxiety when faced with sudden noises, or loud bursts of fireworks and the like, but you can pare it back to an acceptable level for yourself.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you believe me?”

  “I suppose. I do not know where to begin.”

  She smiled. “That, my friend, is where you are in luck. I do.” She sighed. “As soon as I’m freed from this blasted curse.”

  Blasted curse indeed. What he wouldn’t give to cure it for her. That thought recalled another issue, however. “I still have a gift for you. Would you like it now?”

  Her eyes lit up and she nodded. He quickly retrieved the simply-wrapped parcel from his cabin and handed it to her, suddenly feeling awkward.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and untied the string. When she unfolded the paper, she gasped. “It’s a ceremonial Brandonian-Linsolofil dagger!” She traced the sturdy pewter handle, examining it from all angles. “These are so rare! Where did you get it?”

  He wasn’t about to tell her he’d received it from a queen’s emissary for his loyal service to the Crown. She’d never accept it. “A friend, recognition for time in India.” He smiled. “You are one of the few people to recognize its value, and with it I wish you the happiest of birthdays.”

  She looked at him, eyes huge. “I don’t know if I can accept this, Daniel. It’s worth a fortune, and there are perhaps three of them in the world!” Her brow wrinkled. “Why is it not locked up at home in a large vault?”

  “My service in India was . . .” He shrugged, wishing he could put into words what he barely understood himself. “The things I saw were horrific. The aftermath of battle, the havoc wreaked on locals, the loss of friends—I find it difficult to celebrate the accomplishment of surviving it. And that dagger is tied to it. Under other circumstances, I would have placed it under lock and key, but as it is, immediately after receiving it, I boarded the Briar Rose for Port Lucy and put it in my cabin. It’s been there ever since.” He gave her a half-smile, feeling ridiculous.

  She nodded with a gentle smile. “I do understand. It must be odd to equate a ‘prize’ with something that looms negatively in the memory.” She inhaled and looked down at the dagger. “I am in awe. I shall cherish this gift from you always. Monkey, no.” She brushed away the animal’s hand when he tried to touch the dagger. “It is sharp and valuable, two things you are not allowed to touch.”

  He laughed.

  “And heavy!” She lifted the dagger and, blocking Monkey with her left arm, flipped the blade with blinding speed, catching the hilt again. “One could do substantial damage with this weapon. Unfortunate that it will never be one I wear at my waist.”

  He lifted a brow. “If ever there was a woman who would do it justice, it is you, Isla Cooper.”

  She sighed. “And reality must now intrude. You have passengers to settle into new lives, and I have a witch to find. Onward, yes?”

  “Yes, but remember you are not alone.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes briefly in relief that it was no longer stone-cold. “Would you like to blow a kiss to the island as we leave?”

  She affected a pout that was so unlike her he couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose, if we must. But may the record reflect that I leave this place under great duress.”

  “I’ll note it in my log.” He winked. “Get dressed. But leave your hair down.”

  She placed a hand to her chest. “Why, Captain, you are positively wicked.”

  “And that is why you love me.”

  He’d been teasing, of course, but she feared it was true. Isla did love Daniel Pickett, and she didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, so she shoved it aside for later perusal. When she’d embarked on her journey she’d no idea what lay ahead, and drawing nearer to Port Lucy made her nervous.

  She was cautiously optimistic that Nigel Crowe might be a sympathetic colleague in the future; the letter he’d given her for her birthday was a simple one—he’d wished her well and promised that despite his knowledge of the other passengers’ secrets, he would do nothing to harm them. As birthday gifts went, it was the best she could ever have expected from him.

  The airship descended slowly over Port Lucy, and Isla stood on deck with her friends, and held Monkey while they all looked over the side. The world below was a vibrant carpet of green, trees and flowers in a thick array. Vegetation was dense, as was the air, and beads of sweat trickled between Isla’s shoulder blades. It had been much more pleasant on the little island where she’d not been obliged to wear her formal corset, breeches, and boots. And her top hat, complete with goggles and feathers. In partial conciliation to Daniel’s request about her hair, she braided it loosely in the French style and draped it forward over her left shoulder. Monkey played with the long rope, tickling his nose with the curly ends of it.

  The port city was large—much larger than she’d imagined—and bustled with life. Shouts and laughter and arguments mingled in the air with the smell of food and spices that made Isla’s mouth water. They flew over several winding streets that contained an odd assortment of shops, taverns, and businesses, as well as some houses.

  Daniel had told her that most shop owners and families lived above the stores for easy access to their businesses. Most residences were in the town proper, although small pockets had begun to pop up along the outskirts.

  The airship moved toward a large, clear field, and Daniel slowly brought the craft to the ground where ’tons ran to secure it in place. Isla’s heart thumped as she realized the time was at hand. If she failed to convince Malette to give her a cure, she might sleep forever.

  She quietly exhaled and tried not to let her anxiety show. Nigel stood with the others at the railing, his expression grim. His hair had grown out from its usual closely-cropped style, and a couple days’ worth of stubble gave him a rougher edge. Unpredictable, not as tightly controlled.

  “You do not truly want to be here, do you?” she asked him.

  He looked at her for so long she figured he would either refuse to converse or was searching for something to say. He shook his head briefly. “My memories here are not the pleasant sort.”

  “Why did you come?” she murmured. “I have asked you that for three weeks now.”

  He sighed. “I saw little choice. The decision was an impulsive one.” He shrugged. “No matter, Miss Cooper—Dr. Cooper.”

  She smiled. “Isla.”

  “Isla. Thank you for your overture of friendship. I do hope we shall work amicably together in the future.” The words were stiff and reluctantly offered, but she appreciated them all the same.

  “As do I, Mr. Crowe.”

  He lifted the corner of his mouth. “Nigel.”

  “Nigel.” She grinned. “When do you return to London?”

  He looked at the swarm of activity below them. “I don’t know. There are things beyond my control that may impact my departure.”

  “Now that is certainly cryptic. Is there anyone who can help? Perhaps Dan—Captain Pickett has resources that might be useful?”

  He chuckled, and she realized that, although the tone still carried a jaded air about it, he seemed genuinely amused. Not cutting. “You would solve the world’s problems.”

  “Isn’t that what we are to do, all of us? Nobody solves everything alone.”

/>   “Except you.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Your life at home, your family, your business. Single-handed, all of it.”

  “That isn’t true,” she murmured, uncomfortable.

  “Well, at any rate.” He gave her a head nod and left the railing.

  She watched him cross the deck, presumably to gather his belongings from his cabin. What had he implied? Had he researched her life because of her connection to the predatory shifter world?

  Monkey batted her in the face with the end of her braid, and she scowled at him. “You behave, or I shall leave you locked in the cabin.” She and Bonadea had discussed searching the environs of Port Lucy for Monkey’s species. It was possible a group might adopt him since he was still so young. “I would miss you, though,” she admitted and tapped his nose. “You are quite funny, and you make me smile.”

  Daniel descended the wheelhouse steps, and Lewis crossed the deck to speak with him. Bonadea turned to Isla and held out his arms for the little primate. After some hesitation, and to Isla’s surprise, Monkey went to him.

  “Oh, I am relieved,” she murmured to him as Quince smiled at the animal. “I do not know how long I’ll be here, and I was feeling rather wretched about abandoning him.”

  Bonadea shook his head. “Had I realized he would latch himself to you like a barnacle, I might never have encouraged him.”

  “I haven’t minded in the least.” She patted Monkey’s head.

  Monkey took advantage of her proximity and wrapped all four limbs around her arm.

  Bonadea shook his head. “That was short-lived.”

  Daniel and Lewis approached, and Isla decided she could easily watch the captain walk around all day. She didn’t want to be caught staring, but she sensed her time with him was drawing to a close. Better to take in as much as possible while she could, she reasoned. He was dressed formally but in lightweight fabrics more appropriate for the current climate.