Creeden, Pauline - [Chronicles of Steele - Raven] - Episode 4

by Pauline Creeden

  The first mechanical man met her with his sword, taking a wild swing in her direction. Grant fired once more at close range and pulled his knife from his belt to parry the blade aimed for his chest. Another gun report, farther away, put one of the mechanical men near the back in flames. Through the clashing steel, Raven heard a shout and recognized the faces of Monroe, Colton, and Rupert along with others of the guard she’d grown accustomed to. They joined the fray and their help drew a smile to her lips.

  She redoubled her effort, but at the same time, retreated to take care not to put the young baron in danger. With each step backward, Darius followed her movements like a perfect dance partner. After chopping the hands from the mechanical man before her, she ran it through, sending sparks showering around them. If not for the gruesome situation, the showering of sparks would have been beautiful.

  Grant had commandeered a sword from one of the mechanical men and shouted commands for his soldiers to encircle the remaining mechanicals. Raven met eyes with Monroe and gestured for him to follow her. Marietta stayed behind, her hands wringing as she watched the guardsmen dispatch the remainder of the Ipswich machines.

  When Monroe caught up with her, she pointed toward the rope ladder. “The witch went this way. I’m going to pursue. Will you watch Darius?”

  She squeezed the young boy’s hand. The young baron met eyes with her, but he nodded and let her go.

  Monroe shook his head. “But what about her spell?”

  Raven pulled the cork plugs from her jacket pocket. “I’ve got these.”

  He nodded and said, “Right then. Put them in now.”

  With a hard push of her thumb, she placed each plug in its proper place. The hemp rope ladder swayed as she pulled herself up the first few rungs. The motor on the zeppelin started and sent vibrations through the rope to her hands. The tether strained as the dirigible began pulling away. Raven scrambled up the ladder faster, her triceps burning from the exertion. Then the left side of the ladder gave way. The rope slipped through her fingers, burning her palms before she could stop her slide. She wrapped the rope once around her arm and her foot so she could stay still and shot a glance up.

  The light of zeppelin’s interior reflected on the knife's blade in the hand of the Wood Witch. And she hacked at the second rope on the ladder. Without hesitation, Raven reached behind her with her free hand and grabbed her crossbow. She aimed for the witch and released the trigger. The bolt went cleanly through the woman’s neck and continued through the cabin. It hit something within and an explosion rocked the dirigible.

  Blood dripped on Raven’s face from the witch above. The woman’s wrinkly fingers surrounded the hole in the center of her throat. The zeppelin lurched, and the woman fell through the hatch directly for Raven. The reaper yanked her arm and leg free of the rope and made a jump for the rooftop edge before the body hit her.

  Her chin smacked the lip of the roof, and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. She dropped her crossbow and grasped the edge of the rooftop with her fingertips. Desperately, her feet sought purchase on the side of the building, but her hands slowly slipped. Three stories. She might survive, but not without broken bones. Her eyes filled with unbidden tears as her fingers lost hold.

  Hands grabbed her wrists, nearly pulling her shoulders out of joint. She blinked away her tears. Monroe held one side, Captain Grant the other.

  The wide, toothy grins on both of their faces shone through the greasy grime they were covered in from the mechanicals. Her heart felt lighter as they pulled her over the edge. Another explosion behind her sent the three of them to the floor of the roof and brightened the scene with the light of day. The other guardsmen rushed over to help them all to their feet. The eight of them peered at the smoldering heap of the zeppelin that had landed in the empty courtyard, burning the trees along the perimeter.

  In the light of the fire, Raven searched for the body of the Wood Witch and found her broken remains on the ground below, her arms and legs set at odd angles. A crimson stain covered much of the front of the woman’s grey smock.

  Another life to redeem.

  But still, relief flooded Raven, and in the sudden loss of adrenaline, she felt tired and sore. Darius rushed to her side and threw his arms about her waist. Tears filled her eyes again. It was over, truly over this time.

  The guardsmen, Marietta, and Monroe all peered over the edge with her at the witch. Grant set a hand on Raven’s shoulder, his smile wide. She read his lips. “I’d like to see her come back from that one.”

  Raven shook her head and withdrew the cork plugs. She couldn’t help the mild laugh that came to her lips. A metal scrape behind her jolted her out of her reverie. An automaton, more metal than human lunged toward Darius with a sword. She had no time. No time to pull a weapon or defend with the boy clinging to her side. She only had time to push Darius behind her and accept the blow herself. She winced in anticipation.

  Captain Grant leapt between them and knocked the sword to the side with the blade in his hand. But in the quick movement, his clumsy feet lost their footing on the gravel roof, and he fell to its surface. Raven pulled her blade from her back, but she wasn’t fast enough. The machine’s sword sunk into Grant’s stomach.

  With a scream, she beheaded the mechanical man in a shower of sparks and oil.

  She should have been faster. She should have saved Grant. This was her fault. And the whispering voice of her conscience reminded her that this would be another life she’d need to redeem.

  Nothing is over until it’s over.

  RAVEN WALKED IN a fog of depression. Hands and feet flurried around her. The guards rushed the body of Captain Grant down the steps and to the main building. Colton hurried off to find the doctor while Marietta did what she could to stop the bleeding.

  Pain filled Raven’s chest, and she felt like she did when her father had been killed. Helpless. Useless. Frozen. Monroe was speaking to her, but all she could hear was the ringing in her ears—it was like she still had the earplugs in. She let the old man guide her down the steps after them all.

  They pushed Grant into a room and Gregory said something to her on his way in, but she didn’t hear him either. She pushed her back against the wall and sunk to the floor. She set her head on her knees and released the tears.

  “Raven.” It was Gregory’s voice again, and he shook her shoulder. “Raven. I need your help.”

  She blinked hard and looked up at the doctor. Not her doctor. And her heart didn’t break at the thought this time. It had already suffered so much pain that it couldn’t possibly suffer more, could it?

  “Raven.” Gregory smiled, and she felt nothing. “I need your blood. I just checked the Captain’s blood type, and he has the same as yours. I don’t have the stock of your blood here for a transfusion. I’ll need to take it directly from you.”

  She blinked hard, and the fog lightened around her. Hope. She nodded and leapt to her feet. She thrust her arm toward Gregory and said, “Take it. Take it all if it will save him.”

  He frowned but nodded and pulled her into the room with Captain Grant.

  Jack opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Raven. She stood by the window of the bedroom, a hand clutched on the burgundy curtain. Droplets of rain clung to the glass, and the light bathed her in a silver glow. He’d never seen her so disheveled. Her hair stuck out in odd directions, and red rimmed her eyes. Had she been crying?

  His voice failed him when he parted his cracked lips to say her name. Instead, he just breathed a little heavier past his dry mouth. But it was enough for her. She unclenched the curtain and turned toward him, rushing to the side of his bed. The woman had hearing like none Jack could ever imagine.

  “Grant,” she called out and flung herself to her knees beside him. Her violet eyes were wide circles, pools of swirling liquid. Somehow it made her more stunning. Everything about her was beautiful.

  He tried to speak again, but couldn’t get past the dryness in his throat. He attempted to
sit up, but the pain in his abdomen caused a grunt to escape his lips.

  Panic filled Raven’s face. “No, Grant, please. Just sit still. You’ve been injured and Gregory had to perform surgery.”

  Jack settled back down again and made a hand gesture to ask for a drink.

  Raven nodded and leapt to her feet. “I’ll get some water. And let Gregory know that you’re awake.”

  He grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “You don’t want water?”

  He shook his head more aggressively.

  “…so you do want water, but you don’t want anyone to know you’re awake?”

  He nodded.

  Confusion twisted her eyebrows, but she nodded.

  He released her wrist and watched her head out the door. Why is it that he didn’t want anyone to know just yet? This was a rare moment that he’d had with Raven just now. If everyone knew that he was awake, then it would kill his chance to be with her alone. Even if it was just for a moment.

  After a short wait, Raven returned with a pitcher. She poured him a glass and set it on the nightstand. “I’ll need to help you sit up a bit to drink it. Gregory attached an intravenous needle to your arm to keep you from dehydration while you recovered from surgery.” She pointed to the tubing attached to his arm.

  He frowned. He’d never seen this sort of contraption before. Regardless, thirst still clawed at the back of his throat.

  Raven pulled two pillows from the trunk at the foot of the bed and approached him. “Don’t try to help me while I raise you up. Keep your stomach muscles relaxed, understood?”

  He nodded.

  She smiled, and his heart fluttered. Although he’d seen her offer this smile to Darius many times, it had been the first time she’d offered it to him. Her features were soft, making her look younger and more innocent. When she leaned toward him and helped him forward, he wouldn’t have been able to tighten his abdomen if he’d tried. His insides rebelled against his every command and became like gelatin. She smelled like leather and gear oil, but underneath it all was a feminine scent that couldn’t be masked by the masculine odors. It wasn’t created by flowers or powder, but Jack just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. She handled him skillfully but delicately and then propped the two pillows under him to help him sit reclined.

  “Here,” she said as she offered the glass to his lips.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with his arms, but he didn’t have to even fight the urge to tell her that. He drank slowly from the glass she presented.

  After four or five swallows, she pulled the glass away. His mouth soaked in the liquid like dry, cracked ground and softened. He tested his voice.

  “…Jack.” Dry and gravelly, but at least he could speak.

  She blinked. “What?”

  He swallowed and tried again. “Call me Jack.”

  She blinked again and looked away. A blush rose to her cheeks. “I…I don’t know if I can do that.”

  It was his turn to blink. He pulled the glass from her hand and took another sip from the water before he asked, “Why not?”

  Her shoulders drew up and fell down in a shrug, and she set herself down in the chair beside the bed. After another pause, she finally looked his direction. “I don’t know you well enough to feel comfortable calling you by your first name.”

  Heat rose to his cheeks, and her words pricked his heart. “But you call the doctor by his first name, Darius…even Monroe.”

  “I’ve known Gregory since we were children, Darius is a child, and Monroe is the only name I’ve ever known him by.”

  Jack wanted to whine. “But Colton and Rupert…”

  “Also the only names I’ve ever known them by.”

  “So just because I first introduced myself as Captain Grant, you refuse to call me Jack?”

  She shrugged again and averted her eyes.

  Forgetting himself for a moment, he started to sit up and a sharp pain ripped through his gut. He groaned and winced, throwing himself back again.

  Raven’s hands were on his shoulders and she pressed him against the pillows, her eyes wide again in alarm. Once Jack’s breathing slowed, she pleaded with her eyes and softened her tone. “Please, no more arguing. If it means that much to you, I can call you…Jack.”

  Although she’d said it hesitantly, his name on her lips sent a tingling sensation through his body that reached his toes. Or maybe it was just her hands on his shoulders. He smiled up at her, wanting to have her say it again, but afraid that he was pushing his luck. Instead he nodded. “See, it wasn’t so hard.”

  She shrugged, released him, and sat back in the chair, her shoulders lowered in defeat. “I suppose not. But I’m still not entirely comfortable with it.”

  He couldn’t resist. “Of course, the more often you say it, the sooner you’ll become accustomed.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him and she bit her lip. Then she turned toward the pitcher and poured him a fresh glass of water. “Why didn’t you want me to let the others know you’re awake?”

  Settling himself further into the pillows and lifting the cup to his lips helped him think of a quick answer. “I know that once the doctor knows I’m awake, he’ll begin the prodding.”

  She nodded. “Likely so.”

  He watched her hands as she fidgeted with the hem of her black breeches and suddenly he felt very tired. After stifling a yawn, he closed his eyes and laid his head back. “You don’t have to stay with me while I sleep. It seems as though you haven’t gotten any rest since yesterday.”

  Her eyes softened and that small smile appeared on her lips again. “I’m fine. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay.”

  “I don’t mind.” He smiled up at her, his voice already slurring with sleep. “As long as you call me Jack.”

  Raven walked beside Captain Grant, just as she’d done every day during the two weeks of his recovery. She could still hardly bring herself to call him Jack. He had to walk slowly so as not to undo the stitching in his side. The doctor had had to remove his kidney. He still dressed in his full garb as captain of the guard, even though he’d not yet been cleared for duty. Raven wore a periwinkle travelling dress, as she refused the full bustle of the fashionable for its discomfort and lack of practicality.

  Grant showed her a path down the wooded trail. After a short hike to a small rock cropping, they found a swirling pool of water fed by the river. With a smile, he said, “The water comes in, swirls a bit, and goes back out so that this pool never sits still. It rises and falls with the swelling of the river, too.”

  Instead of offering his hand to her, he simply took hers to help her up the last step. Had they gotten so comfortable with each other? Her heart still trembled at his every touch. Why did he have such an affect on her?

  The afternoon sun broke from the clouds, and the golden light poured over their shoulders. The swirling pool below their feet ran so clear she could see the fish near the rocks at the bottom. Grant released her hand with a gentle squeeze and stood along the edge of the pool. “When I was younger, I used to practice my balance along the edge of the pool.” He slipped a bit and she caught him. “But I guess my balance isn’t ready for that yet.”

  Raven shook her head and laughed, her fingers lingering on his arm where she’d caught him. “It’s difficult to believe that it ever was.”

  He shook his head and came down to her level. His nearness made electricity crackle between them. He laughed. “I suppose so.”

  They stood together for a moment, and she watched the gold highlights in his brown hair glisten in the sunlight. The distraction caused her to miss when his face drew closer until his lips met hers. His kiss came as a surprise, but it was gentle and she allowed him to remain. His lips tasted like cinnamon, and though this kiss felt right, it also caused fear to prick her heart. Overwhelmed, she pulled away.

  His eyebrows knit with worry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to presume.”

  Her fingers fluttered
to her lips, and she gave him a shy smile. “No, it’s okay. But I think it’s time to get back now.”

  On the walk back, her mind was a flurry of emotions. What was this between her and Jack Grant? She’d always felt in her heart that Gregory was the one for her, but as they approached the house, she found Gregory and Amelia walking together from the other direction. It used to break her heart to see them in that way, but now, she felt nothing. Was that healing?

  She shook her head and darted toward the house, leaving Grant in the courtyard. She tossed a glance over his shoulder and shouted, “I’ll see you later, perhaps at supper.”

  Perplexed, Jack continued walking toward the house, the stitches in his side aching from the forced march down the path. He’d rushed things. His fists clenched of their own accord. She had been so receptive to him all week. As sweet as could be…and he had to go and rush things. His heart sunk as he remembered the look in her violet eyes. They were a swirl of turbulent water, just like the pool he’d taken her to. He limped in the house and awaited dinner with a stone in his stomach. The time could not move fast enough and he spent most of it pacing.

  When dinner came, and Duke Darius sat at the head of the table, Jack took his place to the duke’s left. But Raven’s seat, to the duke’s right, sat empty. Jack’s eyes darted toward the door again.

  Amelia served dinner, skipping over Raven’s place, and no one else seemed to miss her absence. They all knew.

  The stone in his stomach had grown larger, and when he met eyes with the doctor sitting next to him, he saw a reflection of his own worries. “Doctor, you and Raven grew up together, right?”