Outlaws Page 6

  I tensed. That had to be a joke.

  Nobody laughed.

  Blair didn’t say anything. She stayed behind Diarmuid, trying to shrink from sight.

  “Ignoring me again?” the bastard snarled.

  “She’ll do what she bleeding well likes!” Diarmuid snapped. “Hurry and get the message. She ain’t interested! Never will be!”

  “Silence! Commoners should know their place and stay quiet until spoken to.” His attention turned to Blair. “And when I ask a question, you answer!”

  Blair quivered and ducked down, doing her best to escape behind her smaller shield.

  I ground my teeth. I couldn’t watch. “Leave her alone!”

  The crowd turned to look at me, but I was already gone; submerged in the sea of people. Not by my own volition.

  “Who said that?!” the jerkass noble yelled.

  I couldn’t reply. My mouth was covered.

  Unable to see through the dense rabble, the noble clicked his tongue. “This is why I hate dealing with these moronic commoners. Come, we’re going. And don’t think this is over. I will make you mine. You won’t deny me forever.” He grabbed his concubines by their hips and dragged them into his wagon.

  My view was obscured but neither girl skipped with joy.

  Once the wagon had cruised back up the road, I wiggled free from my captor. “Esther, what the hell?”

  “Don’t give me that,” she said. “What were you thinking?”

  “Were we watching the same thing?”

  “That doesn’t mean you should get involved.”

  I snorted. “Letting jerks bully girls isn’t my style.”

  “Is that it? That’s your excuse?” Esther sighed, rubbing her temple. “Nobles aren’t to be messed with. Who knows what could have happened?”

  I bit my tongue the way you tend to when you know you’re in the wrong. Not that I regretted what I’d done. I stood by what I said. Bullying lit a fire under me, especially when the victim was a cute girl. The amounts of fights I’d been in because some blockhead was treating a woman wrong…

  How many of them had four armed guards?

  None, but that didn’t matter. I broke through the dispersing crowd and into the garage. “You two okay?”

  They jumped. Diarmuid put himself back in front of Blair. His posture relaxed when he realized it was me. “Sorry you had to see that.”

  “Not accepted. The hell was that?”

  “Something you shouldn’t concern yourself with. I appreciate you speaking up but you’re better staying out of it. He comes every day. We’re used to it.”

  “You didn’t seem used to it.”

  “Well I am,” Diarmuid snapped, instantly groaning. “Sorry, lad. Didn’t mean to shout. Does leave me a bit on edge. Still, I have it covered.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course. Think I’m gonna hand my little girl to a punk like him? Pah! In his dreams.”

  “What did I tell you?” Esther said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to jump at every sign of trouble.”

  “I guess so,” I sighed, rubbing my neck.

  “Go on, laddie. Scarper.” Diarmuid said, shooing us. “We’re made from tough stuff. Gonna take more than one needy noble to knock our spirits.” He laughed, wrapping his arm around Blair.

  “Come on,” Esther said. “Let’s leave them to it.”

  I reluctantly agreed. Once we were out of earshot, I spoke up. “How can he be allowed to do that?”

  “Nobles can do whatever they like, darling,” Dessa said. “This is their city. They make the rules. I’m surprised he’s even giving Blair a choice.”

  “Dessa,” Esther said.

  “What? It’s the truth.”

  Esther sighed. “Jake, promise me two things. One, don’t get involved. Two, don’t tell Titania about this. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I mumbled.

  She was right. It wasn’t any of my business. Still left a mighty awful taste in my mouth. Diarmuid had to think I was a moron not to see through such an obvious strong front.

  The more I saw of Grabadon, the more I regretted ever being excited by it. There was something wrong with the city. Awfully wrong.

  Chapter 6

  The rat exploded as I buried my fist in its face.

  Foul blue splattered across my mug. I wiped the muck away with my collar. I’d have used my hands but they were stained in the same repellent grime.

  “No matter how many we kill, they never stop being disgusting,” I complained.

  “They’re demons,” Titania said. “What’d you expect?”

  “Not to mention rats,” Dessa grimaced. Unlike me, who had been forced to accept the underground’s stench, she was still sporting the finger peg. “Oh, how I wish my vows excluded rats.”

  “Yes, we know,” Esther confirmed. It wasn’t our first time hearing that complaint.

  “Why do I have to be here?”

  “Who else is gonna take care of our wounds? We can’t all be as lucky as Jake.”

  I’d caught my knuckles on a previous rat’s teeth and the cut was partway through healing. Perks of being a half-breed.

  It’d been four days since we’d been chased from the sewers. We’d returned daily to deal with the infestation. It wasn’t too difficult when the rats were in clusters. As long as they didn’t come back en masse, we could deal with it.

  “Surely, we’re almost done,” I said. The furry demons were scarce in comparison to our earlier trips. Our last victims were the first we’d found in ten minutes of wandering.

  “Maybe. Still no sign of the queen.”

  “We’ve been around the whole sewer,” Titania said. “She even exist?”

  “I’m sure she does. You saw their numbers.”

  “That’s because the guards don’t do shit and you know it.”

  “The spirits aren’t providing any worthwhile assistance,” Dessa said. “Apologies, dearest leader.”

  Esther sighed. “Maybe if we look deeper…”

  “There ain’t no queen,” Titania insisted. “Just a lot of useless bastards not doing their job.”

  “I’d like to know for sure,” I said. “If there’s a queen, we can’t let her live.”

  “Agreed,” Esther said. “We’ll pick it up again tomorrow.”

  We backtracked to Sophie’s base. It was remarkable how the girls managed to navigate the sewer tunnels with such precision. They all looked the same to me. Gross with a capital G.

  “You’re a bunch of goddamn angels,” Sophie said upon the conclusion of Esther’s report. “I’d hug youse but you smell worse than a demon’s back end.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Dessa groaned.

  “Go on, get outta here. You’re due a wash. Me, I’ll be prepping. Reckon it’s time to get back to biz. Get some stock before winter.” Sophie patted the top of a barrel. “Jake, reckon you could linger a sec? Help with some heavy lifting.”

  “Sure. I’ll catch up,” I said, seeing off the others. “What needs shifting?”

  “Don’t be a dunce. It was an excuse. One to get you alone.”

  I perked up. “You’ve got it?”

  Sophie nodded. “Wasn’t hard to find. Your mark ain’t one for low profiles.”

  A couple of days earlier, I’d asked Sophie for a favor. I wanted to know more about what was happening to Blair. About why she was being harassed and the noble doing it. Esther didn’t want me getting involved so I was hesitant to ask around the bar. Sophie seemed distant enough to be worth a shot.

  She took a seat on a barrel. “Your friend’s caught the interest of Frederic Charles Montgomery. Typical noble. Spoiled from birth, never worked a day, selfish to the core. Not the type you want lusting after you. A hedonistic bastard who always get what he wants. And what he wants is little six-arms.”

  “Her name’s Blair.”

  “Right, right. Either way, it’s bad news. Freddy ain’t one to give up on his fancies. He won’t stop until he g
ets her.”

  “That’ll never happen,” I growled.

  “It will. She can’t resist. Well, not forever. Blair ain’t got the pull. The law’s against her. He could legally snatch her up without a word of consent and nobody could do a thing. The only reason he doesn’t is to indulge himself. He enjoys making girls submit. Wants them to come ‘willingly’.” That last word came with air quotes.

  “Blair will never yield.”

  Sophie emphasized the air quotes. “You think anyone’s falling for his charms? Rats have more charm. He makes them submit. Starts off cordial until the novelty wears off. Then he ramps up the aggression. Forces their hand.”

  I bit down. We were in that stage. “What can we do?”

  “Easy. Nothing.”

  “Nothing? We can’t do nothing.”

  “On the contrary. We can and we shall. There’s nothing you, me, we, any of us can do. Freddy’s a greedy boy and the king has his back. Best you can do is say your goodbyes.”

  “No,” I growled, squeezing my hands. “There must be something.”

  “He’s got twenty-two mistresses. Twenty-two. If stopping him was possible, he’d be stopped.”

  “I… there has to be a way.”

  Sophie sighed. “Listen. I like the cut off your jib. That demon hunter biz you’ve got going’s impressive. Really helped me out. That’s why I helped you. I didn’t do it so you could get yourself arrested or killed or whatever the nobles do to people who piss them off. Wouldn’t have bothered if I knew you were like this.”

  “You sound like Esther,” I said.

  “She’s a smart girl. Knows better than you. Freddy and his lot rule this joint. You can’t beat them. Mess with them and you’re gonna suffer. Little six-arms was doomed the moment he noticed her. Nothing you can do about it. Try thinking of the positives. Won’t be all bad. She’ll get to live up in noble land. Safest place on Terix. They’ll keep her well fed. Bet the healthcare’s good.”

  “And all she has to do is be his sex slave?”

  “I didn’t say it was all good, but there are people worse off. Like you, if you’re stupid.” Sophie hopped off the barrel. “Shit happens. Nothing you can do about it. This is a messed-up city ruled by messed-up people. Sorry, bud.”

  How was I supposed to respond to that? Thanks? I couldn’t say it. I didn’t want to believe that the world, that Grabadon, was so rotten; that a cute girl like Blair was destined to be some creep’s toy.

  ***

  After washing out the sewer stench, I visited the garage. Even if I couldn’t help, I still wanted to make sure Blair was okay. Letting a girl suffer wasn’t my style. The least I could do was check up on her.

  “Hello,” I called into the open lot.

  No response. Diarmuid was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Frederic, thankfully. Looked empty but looks can be deceiving. Metal rattled within. Someone had to be there.

  I followed the sound and found the source hidden away behind our wagon. A six-armed arachni girl, deep in concentration, tending to our truck.

  “Need any help?” I asked.

  Blair squeaked, dropping tools and parts.

  “Shit.” I scurried to pick them up. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” Blair mumbled, talking into her hands. “You don’t need to…”

  “Nah, it’s fine. It’s my fault.” It wasn’t a difficult job. I was used to fighting demons. Picking up screws was nothing.

  She stared at the goods I offered as if I was trying to pour exposed acid into her palms. “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t be. It was my bad.” I pushed the pile at her. “Here.”

  Blair accepted without uttering a word or looking me in the eye. She was back to how she’d behaved when we’d first met.

  Perhaps I was too surprised. We weren’t friends. I knew little about her and her even less about me. My concern didn’t make us besties.

  “So,” I began, glancing around. “Where’s your pa?”

  “Out.”

  “Oh, really? Where?”

  “Working a job…”

  “Cool.”

  Cool? How hip, dude. You’re a regular Casanova.

  I sighed, rubbing my neck. Like I needed telling. I’d never gelled well with shy types. My social skills weren’t stellar. Passable but I was by no means a charismatic force. There was a portion of my childhood when I only communicated physically. By the time I opened up, I’d earned a reputation as a thug. And for good reasons. Quiet kids don’t tend to associate with violent types. Even those on their side.

  Making excuses?

  No way. Things had changed. I was a grown-ass man, not some kid. I’d faced the gauntlet of working life and came out the other end stronger. This wasn’t even Earth and it sure as hell wasn’t high school.

  Blair was a conundrum I chose to face and conquer. Before me, she was a frightened animal. With Titania, she was a lively girl. I wanted to bring out that side but I didn’t have a childhood rapport to utilize. There had to be something even I could do. Blair had damn near pulled Titania’s arm off to showcase her creations.

  I perused the inner storage area. It was filled with tools, parts, and contraptions. The third was my hook. I picked up something that looked like a clock. “Hey, what’s this?” I called, waving it to get her attention.

  It worked. She rushed over, eyes on the verge of popping. “Don’t touch that!”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “It explodes!”

  My mind took a lifetime to piece together that simple sentence. Once realization struck, I gasped and dropped the clock. The stupidity of my action was processed much swifter. I scrambled and caught the device before I blew up Grabadon.

  “Why are you making a bomb?!” I snapped.

  “It’s not,” she mumbled, toying with her hands. “It’s supposed to be an alarm clock. I made the motor too powerful. It keeps catching fire.”

  I sighed in relief. No terrorist cell here. Just an incompetent mechanic. One who managed to get through a sentence without stuttering. I knew this was the right route.

  Careful not to trigger anything, I returned the clock to its station and searched for something less volatile. What I found were a pair of clunk metal boots. They rung a bell. “Hey, what are those?”

  “Rocket boots…”

  “Oh, I see.” So much for avoiding anything explo&emdash; “Wait, rocket boots?!”

  She squeaked and recoiled away.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.” How could anyone stay calm after hearing those magic words? “Tell me about them. How’d they work?”

  “They… don’t,” she whined.

  “Huh?”

  “They work in theory, but not in reality. The main issue is the energy consumption. The power to weight ratio is out of balance. I can’t generate enough propulsion using the current supplies. It needs a complete redesign. How to achieve that, I’m not sure. I’m worried the entire idea might be flawed. There’s a reason nobody has been able to create a small aircraft. Even the smallest airships are five times bigger than the average wagon. Their larger size allows them to harness bigger power sources. You’d think their increased weight would offset the difference, but that hasn’t proven to be the case. When it comes down to it…”

  I stared, speechless. Was I in the presence of the same girl who’d cowered away from a handful of screws?

  Blair waffled on without tripping over her words. Her gorgeous yellow eyes, which she routinely hid under her bangs, sparkled with passion.

  This was it, the expression I wanted to see.

  “I hear the Imperious uses a quadruple rotation engine,” Blair continued. It’d been minutes and she hadn’t taken a breath. “I’d love to see that design. The engine which powers the world’s fastest airship. And over a dozen cannons. All with complete shield coverage. I could only dream of building something so incredible. If I could get my hand on its blueprints, I wonder if I could… ah.”
Blair’s speech came to a sudden halt. She stared at me as her cheeks turning red. With a squeak, she hid behind her own hands. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to talk so much.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I assured her. “It was really… interesting.” I hadn’t understood a word. Wiring a plug was my limit. Still, I enjoyed listening. More so I enjoyed watching. Her ecstatic expression was a treat.

  “I always get carried away talking about this stuff,” she confessed.

  “You must really like machines.”

  Blair nodded. Could she really deny it?

  “Did you make all this?” I asked, looking around the junk-filled room.

  “Most of it. Dad made some.”

  “You’re really talented.”

  “Not at all,” she squeaked, waving four arms. The other two kept her face hidden. “Most of it doesn’t work.”

  “How many people could make a pair of broken rocket boots? You need to be more confident. You’re incredible.”

  “I’m really not…”

  “Prove it. What else did you make?”

  Blair hesitated but the desire to showcase her inventions was too strong. The first words of her next explanation tripped out. A few sentences later, they were flowing. She was back in the zone with an expression too enthusiastic to fake. It was cute. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  Before she got a chance to lull into depression, I coaxed her onto the next contraption. After that, another.

  The more Blair talked the more comfortable she became. She began to maneuver the conversation without my input. The butterfly had escaped its cocoon.

  She looked so much better overflowing with cheer.

  “Erm,” Blair said in a pause between demonstrations. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” I cheerfully replied.

  “Is Tina doing okay?”

  “I think so. Grumpier than usual, but that’s not saying much.”

  “I’m worried about her,” Blair mumbled, toying with her hands. “She always sounds so pained.”

  She did? I hadn’t noticed. “Might be the city. She ain’t Grabadon’s biggest fan.” And I was starting to see why.