Suzanne Lazear - Charmed Vengeance

“Never bargain with the high queen.” Her voice a whisper, she clutched the doll to her chest like a shield, expression contorting into one of pain.

Kevighn’s hand stayed on her shoulder, since she didn’t glare at it or brush it away. “Why would you bargain with her?”

“I had to get home somehow.” Her voice cracked with pain.

“Oh, right.” He’d been to one to inform her that eating faery food bound her to the Otherworld—and the high queen possessed the power to send her home.

Eyes brimming with pain looked up at him. “It’s so difficult. It wears me out trying to keep her in check.” She straightened with resolve. “But we’ll fix it and I’ll be me again.”

“Of course.” He still didn’t understand what happened, but there wasn’t any way he knew of to get her humanity back. Getting rid of the sprite, well, that seemed more feasible. Maybe.

Then again, Magnolia Braddock was the most determined girl he’d ever met, even more than his sister.

“Why are you on this ship?” Her eyes met his in her old, refreshingly direct manner.

“I was looking for a job. You?” Kevighn leaning against the door again, since she hadn’t invited him to sit—not that there was a place other than a little bench and her hammock. If she invited him to her hammock he’d want to do more than sit and talk.

“It’s better than Boston.” She hugged the doll to her chest. “I miss V.”

Who was off questing—if Igan and his crew hadn’t accidently killed him. He prayed to the Bright Lady they had.

“I’m here.” He gave her a reassuring smile, but didn’t touch her. Yes, that was the right card to play. Slow and steady. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.” Kevighn’s smile grew lopsided. “If your brother hasn’t tossed me off the ship while it’s moving.”

Magnolia laughed her laugh, like bubbles popping in a glass of champagne. “I won’t let him torture you too much.” Her laughter stopped abruptly. “If he knew you were involved with my disappearance … ”

“I won’t tell…will you?” He gave her a searching glance.

She swallowed and shook her head as she chewed on her lower lip. “No. I won’t tell.”

Taking her hand, the one not holding the doll, he looked into her eyes. “I’ll help you in any way I can.” Kevighn kissed her hand. “Good night.”

“Good night, Kevighn.” Her big eyes stared up at him, a mixture of too many emotions to read. He most definitely had her off balance. Good.

He left, closing the door behind him, praying he didn’t run into Winky.

Magnolia wasn’t mortal. Stiofán had left her. Things just got better and better, and he gave his thanks to the Bright Lady.

Then again, Kevighn was a huntsman and he always got what he wanted in the end.

“I can’t believe we missed them again.” Steven wanted to bang his head on the wooden table of the dingy air terminal bar in Denver. “That is the most problematic tracking spell I’ve ever seen.” It made tracking with a sigil seem simplistic.

“At least I know one,” James huffed, signaling a serving girl and they placed their order.

He gave his brother a smile, trying to keep his own frustrations at bay. “I … I’m glad you do. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Really?” James brightened.

“Really.” For every problem James had instigated, he’d also offered solutions. Certainly, this quest had been more interesting, albeit frustrating, with his younger brother in attendance. At the same time he was grateful for the company and assistance.

He could do without the sulkiness and odd moods.

The serving girl brought their food and left, but not without giving them both winsome smiles. Many a girl in bars like this also made … personal visits.

“How are we going to find the ship?” Steven raked a hand through his hair. This time the tracking spell had been inconclusive.

James rolled his eyes and chewed his overly large bite of meat pie. “Um, ask if anyone knows where Barrel of Monkeys is headed? What sort of ship name is that, anyhow?”

“The name isn’t important. Finding them is .” Days had been wasted chasing this blasted vessel across the country. But if they found little Rahel and returned her to Dr. Heinz, it would be worth it. If they failed … well, he didn’t have the luxury of even entertaining the notion.

“What do you know of the Barrel of Monkeys?” a female voice demanded, a click of a pistol punctuating the question. Two blonde women, most likely sisters, stood in front of them, the taller of the two holding a pistol. No one in the bar even looked up from their conversations.

“Please, don’t shoot.” Steven put his hands in the air. “We’re trying to find it.”

“Why?” The woman with the pistol didn’t lower her weapon or gaze. Both women wore trousers . Trousers!

James shrugged. “They have something we want.”

“What?” she snapped. Her hair was longer and in one braid pinned up.

“An acquaintance has contracted us to retrieve his child,” Steven stammered, hoping these were friends, not foes. At least they were mortal.

Her pistol lowered. “Oh. We’re on the same side, then. I’m Hattie Hayden and this is my sister Hittie. We happen to know where those sons of dogs are.”

Steven perked. “You do?”

“You part of the children’s liberation front or just for hire?” Hittie’s eyes narrowed. Her hair was cut nearly as short as a man’s.

“We’re just the hired help,” James gave her a disarming smile.

Hattie shrugged. “Everyone’s got to make a living. Anyway, our friends are hopefully boarding that ship and stealing their cargo right now. We’re meeting up with them.”

“Wait—they’re boarding the ship of air pirates and stealing their cargo?” Steven blinked. Who in their right mind would rob an air pirate?

Hittie bristled, broad shoulders squaring. “It’s for the greater good. Children shouldn’t be stolen and forced into slavery.”

“True. But what do they do with the children afterwards?”

“We take them to a safehouse and try to return them to their families,” Hattie replied. “Here’s the deal. We just lost a crewmember. You help us and when we meet up with our friends, we’ll make sure you get your girl. If the safehouse contacts her parents first you won’t get paid.”

True. The last thing he wanted to do was waste more time.

“How can we help you?” James took a casual drink of beer as if discussing the weather or something equally inane.

“You do what we tell you,” Hittie snapped, taking a step toward them. “We’re an all-female crew and we don’t tolerate no disrespect. We don’t usually take on men.”

James’ face brightened. “Wait—you’re Hayden’s Follies, I’ve heard of you.”

“Good things, I hope,” Hattie preened.

An all-female band of, well, he had a feeling they were air pirates.

Steven rubbed his chin, taking this all in. “If women can’t legally fly airships, how can you operate?”

Hittie wrinkled her turned-up nose in distain. “Do you think we care?”

“No, of course not.” Well, that was one way to look at the law.

Hattie checked her pocket watch and tapped the toe of her manly boots. “Are you in?”

Steven and James exchanged glances. It beat their other options.

Standing, he offered his hand. “We’re in.”

Hattie shook his hand, grip stronger than he expected and jerked her pointed chin toward the door of the bar. “Good, let’s go rescue some little girls.”

“Hope you’re rested because the next twenty hours are going to be hell ,” Hittie sneered as she showed them around the microscopic ship.