“Is Miss McGee going to be joining us?” Just thinking about China McGee made Lilly squirm uncomfortably in her seat.
“No. She left via her own means back to Tombstone.”
Lilly chanced a guess. “She turned into a bird?” Like a hawk or an eagle or some other bird of prey? she added silently to herself.
The Contessa smiled, her teeth very white and very even. Not a fang in sight. “Da. She makes a very impressive raven.”
Lilly suppressed the urge to comment about exactly how obvious Miss McGee had been in her attentions to Colt and how unwanted they were. It wouldn’t be ladylike, and she was already feeling awkward enough.
Thankfully, their conversation was interrupted as two crewmen returned with tea. One carried an ornate golden object that looked rather like an elegant brass teapot balanced precariously atop a large brass urn emblazoned with the enameled image of the Drossenburg crest. There were two metal handles sprouting out of the sides of the urn, a twisting tap on the front, and a little coal chamber beneath it.
The second crewman carried a silver tray bearing two translucent white china cups rimmed in gold and an assortment of elegant little rounded tea cakes covered in powdered sugar, various finger sandwiches, and matched silver pots of honey and bright yellow lemon wedges. They placed both on the table and vanished.
Despite her discomfort with air travel, Lilly’s stomach grumbled with interest at the tart citrus of the lemon and the slight almond fragrance drifting up from the tea cakes. The Contessa filled her cup first from the teapot at the top, a dark, thick, fragrant brew, then from the tap on the urn, which produced steaming hot water. She added both a wedge of lemon and a generous dose of honey to her tea.
The Contessa gave her a brief glance laced with gentle amusement. “It is a samovar. The tea is strong, so add the water to it as you wish.” Having never seen such a tea apparatus, Lilly followed suit. She helped herself to a small sugar-coated tea cake and several small sandwiches, then used the delicate etched silver spoon to add a lemon wedge and a generous dollop of honey to her steaming tea. She took a bite, and the soft subtle flavor of powdered sugar was accented with almonds in the cookie-like tea cake.
Mouth a little too full, Lilly glanced up to catch the Contessa’s tawny gaze on her face. She flushed with embarrassment when she noticed that the other woman hadn’t taken any food of her own.
“You are a supernatural like me, are you not, Miss Arliss?”
Lilly nodded as she reluctantly placed the tea cake on the little plate provided, licked the trace of powdered sugar from her lips, and took a sip of the fragrant tea. The warmth spread out from her stomach to her limbs, and for the first time since she’d been in the air she relaxed slightly.
“What do you know of the Chosen, Miss Arliss?”
“Only what I’ve discovered by reading their archives and from Darkin lore.” Even before she’d been turned to a succubus, books had been Lilly’s sanctuary.
The Contessa’s amber eyes lit with interest and she leaned slightly forward in her seat, her raven-colored taffeta skirts and bustle rustling slightly with the movement. “And what do you know of the oldest, in particular? Does he have any weaknesses I should know of?”
“A few.”
“Would you mind if I summoned some key members of my crew to hear as well? Anything we can learn to protect them during our mission could make the difference.”
Lilly was uncomfortable with sharing what wasn’t even hers to share, but wasn’t exactly sure how to refuse the request. For one, she was a guest on the Contessa’s airship and, two, vampires weren’t known for being terribly tolerant of other Darkin, whom they felt were somehow inferior, and, three, she was nobility. One simply didn’t refuse them anything. “If you wish,” she answered simply.
Within a moment six vampires materialized in a curl of dark particles like smoke in the room. They clustered behind the Contessa’s settee. They all shared the same whiskey-colored eyes as the Contessa, but unlike her, those eyes were filled with avid male interest. Inwardly Lilly smiled and relaxed. These were common male vampires, not highborn like Lady Drossenburg.
Lilly batted her lashes slowly at them, letting a subtle, coy grin spread across her lips. They leaned forward ever so slightly, and she knew she had their undivided attention. She suddenly felt far more in control than she had since Colt had summoned her.
Colt returned to the upper deck to find Lilly surrounded by a bevy of male vampires that looked like they were lined up at a buffet. The crewmen, all wearing identical uniforms of black, accented with highly polished golden buttons and the Drossenburg crest embroidered in red and black on a field of gold on the right chest pocket, seemed to be totally fixated on her.
He cleared his throat, and her gaze swiveled in his direction. “Are you ready to get off this thing?”
She nodded, which made the red waves of her hair bounce in a way that was far too alluring, just begging a man to slip his fingers through the fiery silk. He had no doubt from the looks of the crew that every one of them was thinking the same damn thing.
Colt eyed the vampire crewmen. He didn’t want to take them all on, but he would if one so much as showed a fang. “Don’t you gentlemen have duties to attend to? I’m sure the Contessa wouldn’t be pleased if she were to see you all here.”
A few looks passed between them, as if they all shared some little secret he wasn’t privy to, which irritated the hell out of him. They bowed to Lilly, said their good-byes, and shuffled off in different directions.
“What were they doing here?”
She sighed, swirling a ringlet of her red hair around her finger into a tight twist matching the twist in his gut. “They just showed up.”
“I see that, the question was why?”
“I’m a succubus.”
“Yes, but they’re vampires. Your charms shouldn’t affect them.”
Her sigh came out an irritated quick exhale. “You Hunters think you know everything. But you don’t. There’s still more you haven’t discovered about supernaturals. Vampires still retain something of their humanity. Therefore what’s left of it is just as affected by the demon powers as any mortal man.”
Colt reached out and slipped a ringlet of her hair around his finger, sampling the texture. His pupils dilated slightly. “Just like there’s some humanity left in certain demons?” He was still wearing his rough frontier clothing—the denim pants he favored, the rumpled cotton shirt, the long brown duster, and the well-worn brown Stetson. Something about that rugged exterior made her tighten and coil with longing.
She stood, bringing them face-to-face. The strong edge of his jaw was rough with stubble, at odds with the smooth, sculpted firmness of his mouth. Lilly’s body eagerly supplied her with all the details she remembered of how he could kiss. She inhaled at the thought and was hit with the scent of long, cool nights in the desert, and leather, which clung to him.
He leaned in just a little closer, close enough to kiss her, making her heart resume its faster-than-normal pace, this time from desire rather than fear. “That’s more by accident than design,” she replied.
Colt released the curl and she could tell his reserve had been firmly put back in place. Her heart contracted. Every time he seemed on the verge of declaring his real feelings to her, he backed away. He glanced out the windows, where the peaks of the tallest mountains were now level with the ship’s windows. He took off his hat, smoothing the brim of it between his fingers. “Winn said we should be landing outside McDowell in about ten minutes.”
“I thought we were going to Phoenix.”
“This is closer to the mountains.”
All the better for crashing into them. Lilly chastised herself for being so negative. “Do we have to climb down the ladder?”
Colt settled his hat back on his head. “No. We’re gonna unload Tempus out of the cargo hold, so they’re taking the ship all the way down this time.”
Lilly weakened with relief. “You have no id
ea how much I was dreading the climb down.”
He grasped her hand and held it. This time the look in his eyes wasn’t one of desire, but of protection and concern—as close as she’d ever been to love. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” His gesture wrapped her in a kind of warmth she’d never experienced before. The kind of warmth that came when someone genuinely cared for you.
Heartened, Lilly threw her arms around him in a hug.
He stiffened slightly. “You aren’t going to start crying, are you?”
Lilly laughed softly into the collar of his coat. Colt might not have been ready to say the words, but his actions spoke volumes. He cared about her. “No.”
Colt pulled out of her arms as he straightened. “Want to go for a walk around the deck before we leave?”
Lilly shook her head. “No thanks, I’m perfectly happy to stay safe and sound in here until we stop.”
He tipped his hat. “I’m going to look around a bit, then see what needs to be done to unload Tempus.”
Lilly remained firmly entrenched in her burgundy velvet settee while the airship slowly descended. The hiss of hot air being released from the vents had the same impact on her as that of a snake. A shiver followed by the quick dip and roll of her stomach made her queasy.
She glanced out the windows to see Colt bent over the rail, observing the crew and taking it all in. Lilly squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the settee’s arm harder, wishing she had the guts to go out and grab hold of Colt instead. A thick hard lump centered just below her throat at the top of her chest ached. If he fell ... she couldn’t bear to think of it. When had he become more to her than a means to an end? When had she fallen for this rough-and-tumble Hunter? She certainly wanted to escape Rathe, and for the longest time that had been her only goal. But being with Colt had changed that. The Chosen weren’t just a myth. He was a virile flesh-and-blood man who made the world alive in brilliant color, when for so long she had felt it was nothing but endless shades of gray.
She gasped slightly as the enormous airship thumped on solid ground, bounced up slightly, then made grinding noises as it scraped along the rocky desert soil.
“You can let go of the chair now. We’ve landed.”
Lilly pried open one eye and looked at the Contessa. “You’re certain we’re safe?”
The Contessa’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “The younger Mr. Jackson is waiting for you.”
As Lilly walked on unsteady legs with the Contessa out to the viewing deck to disembark, she could see they’d come to rest in a barren stretch of dirt and rock. In the distance she saw the town veiled in the layers of dust hanging in the hot, still air. Other than a few houses, the only other building was the old fort constructed out of the same reddish tan stone that littered the landscape. Half tumbled down, it blended in so well that it was hard to discern it from the desert.
Lilly, nearly giddy with happiness that her first airship ride was finally over, remembered to thank the Contessa for her hospitality before heading toward the narrow wooden plank walkway linking airship and earth.
Colt came around from the back of the dirigible, riding Tempus. The leather with cow-like blots of black on white made it look more like a real horse, but the click and whirr of its clockwork parts as it moved, its brass hooves and solid silver eyes gave it away as a machine. The mechanical horse came to a rocking stop and Colt slid off, jogging up the ramp to offer her his assistance.
Lilly grasped his thick forearms, grateful for his presence. “Thank you,” she murmured. He gifted her with a stunning smile that made her heart thump harder. She took ginger steps, watching where she placed her feet as she walked down the narrow planking thinking that falling at this point would be not only painful, but most embarrassing. She heaved a great sigh the moment her boot touched terra firma.
He left her side and mounted the paint, bringing it over to her. Lilly looked at Tempus with chagrin.
“Surely you aren’t planning on making me ride that beast right after I’ve already suffered through riding on an airship, are you?”
“Not unless you want to.”
Lilly nearly stumbled over her own feet in surprise. “Really?” She supposed she still didn’t trust anything she couldn’t understand, and unfortunately that still included Colt’s mechanical horse.
“We’re going into McDowell first and see if we can pick up some supplies and maybe a guide who knows these mountains. Then we’ll get on the horse.” He grinned.
Lilly resisted the urge to grumble and tried to retain her ladylike decorum. Just when she thought she had Colt figured out, he went and changed again.
“Can you walk with me?” she asked gingerly.
Colt hesitated. “I would, but Tempus doesn’t move unless the plate under his saddle is depressed by the rider’s weight. It’s a safety feature Marley created.”
“I see.”
“I can walk him beside you if you want.”
Lilly considered it for a moment. She wasn’t any more comfortable with the thought of the big mechanical beast stomping on her than she was of it potentially throwing her to the ground if she rode it.
“You go on ahead. I’ll follow.”
His brows bent down with disapproval. “I’ll walk with you.” Lilly materialized her favorite black fringed parasol and opened it against the broiling sun. The meager shade was better than nothing, and there was none to be had unless she planned to lie underneath a creosote or jonco thorn bush or up against the prickly trunk of a saguaro.
Only the sound of Tempus’s metal hooves clicking against the occasional rock punctuated the sounds of wind-rattled sagebrush. High overhead a hawk, searching for a meal, let out a screeching cry.
The town, if it really could be called a town, was a collection of sad sun-bleached wooden shacks surrounding what remained of the old adobe fort. Stuck here and there was a twisted mesquite tree, the green leaves so small the branches almost looked feathery in the brilliant sunlight. Wood smoke from a cooking fire mingled with the smell of roasting meat, cooking beans, and dust in the air.
The few people Lilly saw were crusty frontier types. From the crude condition of their homes, their dusty denim and duck cloth clothing, and scattered tools, she guessed they were miners. Tied in the shade of one shack was a gray mule, its head hung low. Its long ears flicked away annoying flies in the heat, and like everything else in the town, it seemed tired.
In the part of the old adobe fort building that remained intact they found a small mercantile. It smelled of vinegar from the pickle barrel, and a thin layer of dust seemed to cover everything. Lilly sneezed three times in a row. She looked around while Colt picked out the supplies. Bolts of calico and canvas sat on the shelves. A straw bonnet hung from the ceiling, the ostrich feathers rather sad and droopy, alongside a saddle and a pair of boots. Harnesses hung between baskets, and a doll stared blankly at a random selection of dusty farm implements.
A dusty display of nails caught her attention. She glanced back at Colt and the storekeeper, and noting that they paid her no heed, picked up a few. You never knew when nails might come in handy. Some might call her collecting habit a vice, but a hardscrabble life of conning people for a living had bred into her the unbreakable need to be resourceful. She picked up bits and items as she came across them to bolster her sense of security. With quick fingers, she deftly tucked the nails in her reticule along with the copper wire she’d acquired at Marley’s.
She glanced once more just to be certain neither of the men had noticed.
“Got any fresh meat?” Colt asked.
The old store clerk’s salt-and-pepper walrus mustache huffed outward with an annoyed breath. “Fresh out. Won’t get more until next month on the wagon train.”
“What about tinned biscuits?”
“Nope.”
“Tinned beans?”
“Those I got.” The clerk pulled three dusty cans from the shelf and added it to the pile on the counter right next to the five-pound bag of salt, ano
ther of flour, some cured meat, and a few bits of hard cinnamon candy. “You wouldn’t happen to know of a guide for hire, would you?” Colt asked the clerk as he paid.
The clerk just shook his head, his enormous mustache making even a lip twitch indiscernible. There was a reason his establishment seemed to be lacking business, Lilly thought, and it wasn’t just because they were on the edge of practically nowhere. She knew they weren’t going to get very far this way. If they were going to get any kind of assistance, she was clearly going to have to intervene.
She sauntered up slowly to the counter, her lids half-shuttered, and gave the store clerk a stunning, but demure smile. “It’s too bad you don’t have any maps,” she said sweetly, with just a twinge of a pout. “Without a guide it’s going to be next to impossible to find.”
Colt forgotten, the clerk’s head swiveled as he fixated on her as if she’d just stepped out of thin air and he could see nothing else. “What are you lookin’ for, ma’am?”
“The Lost Dutchman’s Mine.”
The clerk burst out in a warm laugh. “Ma’am, if I had a map to that I’d be richer than Croesus. There ain’t a miner been through here yet has found it.”
She widened her eyes just a touch. “Oh, I know the gold isn’t real, just a story in the penny dreadfuls. But I want to see where that thrilling legend started. My darling here promised that he would take me to see the famous mine, as a birthday present.”
The clerk eyed Colt for a second, as if summing him up, then returned his gaze to Lilly. “Shucks. I don’t know if it’d actually help any, but Ol’ Pete probably knows those hills just as good as anybody. If it weren’t for more than just a walkabout out there for a day or two, he might be willin’ to go.”
“Really?” Lilly leaned in closer, her lips tilting just so. “Do you know where I might find this Pete?”
Two minutes later, with directions in hand, they stepped out of the mercantile with their supplies. It was like stepping into a woodstove oven after being inside the cool interior of the adobe building. The branches of a mesquite tree near the entrance to the mercantile burst into noise as they passed under it with the buzz and hum of insects. The dry air was so hot it tightened her skin and made her squint. Lilly put her hand up to her forehead, blocking out the sun, and looked for the dirigible. It glinted and flashed in the sunlight, like a lone, small, silver fish in a huge blue ocean, growing smaller and smaller as it drifted off to the east.
The Hunter Page 18