Read Online Captain Gravenor’s Airship Equinox (Steampunk Smugglers) by Heather Hiestand - Free Book Online Page A

possible.”
    “Excellent.”
    “Frequency is also an issue, but I am not sure how much time
the captain will give us before she becomes impatient.” She rubbed absently at
her chest.
    “I do not think that is a factor. She cannot feed us any
more poorly than she does now without risking starvation and she needs your
mind to function. Also, it is August and the temperature in here is unlikely to
lower to the point we will freeze.”
    “But it does give us a timetable. We certainly do not want
to still be here in November.”
    “Considering how fast you made the hand I doubt that would
be a problem.”
    He had spoken too optimistically, Philadelphia realized four
days later, when she had yet to create a shock that did more than give him a
little zing. He reported that the hairs on his arm had risen, but she had
observed his head of thick black hair. Not even the small hairs at the back of
his neck had risen.
    “You could create more effect with a kiss,” he observed
during one experiment.
    She fumbled the wires she was toying with. “Really, Mr.
Gravenor.”
    “Come, we are past formality after all this time. We’ve been
beasts in a cage for what, two weeks now?”
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing this was all her fault.
If he hadn’t tried to rescue her, if they hadn’t lost the time to escape the
BAE, he wouldn’t be here.
    “Something else would have gone wrong,” he said, as if
reading her thoughts. “After all, I made the decisions that led me here,
whether you became involved or not.”
    “I do not know how to create the effect,” she told him. “The
BAE reportedly cause shocks through the air somehow. Your brass hand is working
perfectly, but I can’t reproduce it.”
    “You need more data.”
    “I need more data,” she agreed.
    He stepped forward, and tucked a strand of blond hair behind
her ear with his brass hand.
    She flinched.
    “No, don’t. I’ve become quite precise with my movements.”
    She stilled, allowing him to stroke her cheek with his
slender brass fingers. She could hear the whirring of the motor and pulleys
inside. Standing entranced by the proximity they shared, an unusual closeness
as they had been careful to give each other space during their ordeal, she
didn’t move until she heard boots on the stairs, the loud clatter of the twins
and a lighter boot as well. Mindful of the edges of the filed brass fingernails
of the hand, she stepped back and turned.
    Captain Red Kite swept into the room, her scarlet frock coat
billowing around her tall but stocky body, her brothers in step behind her.
    “I will hear your progress,” she announced.
    “Open the door,” Brecon suggested.
    Philadelphia admired his bravery. He still insisted on being
considered an honest free trader, member of the crew, not a criminal tarred by
association with a Hardcastle. She wished he’d never seen her that day. But no,
for the first time, her heart rebelled at that notion. She wasn’t sorry. Not
anymore. His handsome face had lost six months of pain lines and disappointment
when she had first strapped the brass hand to his stump. She had given him his
manhood back, in his eyes, at least. From her point of view, the man she’d
first seen had been every bit as virile as the man with the automac hand who
stood a little in front of her, guarding her.
    The captain attempted to stare her champion down, but after
a tense two minutes, she rolled her eyes and gestured to the twins. One opened
the door. Two grabbed Brecon’s arm and tugged him to the captain.
    “Can you open it, grasp with it?” she asked, voice taut with
avarice.
    Brecon demonstrated. “The lady is a genius. Remember she
didn’t design the original hand, merely the invention that inspired it.”
    The captain didn’t bother to glance up. “And has she learned
its secrets? Has she been able to electrocute you?”
    “The light isn’t flashing red,” Two observed. “I want to see
you get shocked.”
    “Let’s have a