Ivan swung at him twice. Both times, Nico leaned back, out of range. When Ivan swung a third time, Mae raised her gun and shouted, “Hey! Hey, stop this!” But no one cared to listen to her.
After dodging yet again, Nico countered with a left hook, which surprisingly made Ivan stagger backward. Nico lifted his knee, burying it in the larger man's groin. When Ivan doubled over, Nico brought down his elbow, ramming it into the thug's head. The force of the blow brought Ivan to his knees.
Harvey released Ella and charged forward, tackling Nico, who somehow managed to stay on his feet. Ivan was bigger, but Harvey was faster. His fist sailed forward, colliding with Nico's nose. As soon as he saw the blood, the prince groaned.
Mae fired a warning shot into the air, but it didn't stop the fists from flying. Harvey relentlessly pummeled Nico's head, until Ella's would-be white knight was seeing stars. With each punch, Nico's rage escalated. He seized the collar of Harvey's soiled shirt and shoved him backward, until Harvey's back hit the side of a building. Nico's knuckles connected with Harvey's jaw, and he swore he felt it snap.
Unfortunately, Ivan was back on his feet. He grabbed Nico's hair and dragged him away from Harvey, who cackled as Nico flailed. Ivan's massive fist landed on Nico's shoulder, then Nico countered with a kick to the shin. While Ivan kept the prince busy, Harvey pulled a knife from his coat. Nico was warned by a glint of metal as Harvey advanced and slashed. He managed to dodge, but with inches to spare. If he'd been a tiny bit slower, the blade would have met his flesh.
Mae, growing weary of the spectacle, fired another shot—only this time, she aimed to kill. When a bullet wound appeared in the center of Harvey's chest, Ivan froze. Harvey dropped to his knees, whimpering. When his head hit the ground, he had only a few more breaths to breathe.
“I did tell you to stop!” Mae screamed as she climbed down from the carriage. As soon as her feet were on the ground, she pointed the gun at Ivan. “Your friend didn't have to be a corpse today, but you were stubborn.”
“And he didn't have to bother us!” Ivan thrust a meaty finger at Nico's nose. “What we was doin' was none of his business!”
“You were attacking a young woman!” Nico pointed at Ella. The contents of her reticule were scattered around her feet, but the girl was too stunned to collect them. “God only knows what you would've done to her if we hadn't passed by!”
“Yeah... I'm real sorry about that.” Ivan's grimace soured as he studied the body of his dead companion. “Can I go now? Please?”
“I should probably kill you too,” Mae said, pointing her gun at the man's huge head. “But I won't. Get out of my sight!”
Ivan immediately obeyed. Like an animal fleeing a predator, he yelped and scampered away.
When he was gone, Ella finally bent down to collect her belongings. Her gaze shifted nervously between Nico and Mae, and then to Mae's gun. Though she looked apprehensive, she said, “Thank you. Both of you. I can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't come. I would've been raped, probably. Or worse.” As she stuffed her brother's medicine into her reticule, she added, “I should have known better. A girl should never walk alone in Bordeaux at sundown.”
Nico said, “I'm glad we were able to help, Miss...?”
“Ella,” the girl replied. “Ella Clark.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Clark,” Nico told her, and it was entirely true. Ella was, without question, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her dark brown skin was gorgeous and glowing, as were her hazel eyes. She had wild, curly hair and elegant, sharp cheekbones, which made her look ethereal. Nico had saved a goddess. With a hand over his heart, he bowed and said, “I'm Nico d'Arcy Tempestua, the first and only son of Emperor Giorgio of Columbigo.”
Ella's brow was knit with disbelief. She looked at Mae, thinking she would confirm his identity, but Nico's companion was rolling her eyes.
“I'm Mary Melissa Mae, the queen of absolutely nothing,” Mae said, copying Nico's bow. “I don't know if he's a prince or not. He might be a prince. Or he might be insane. I honestly don't know.” When Mae turned her attention to Harvey's corpse, she shook her head and sighed. “I can't believe it. I'm out of the whorehouse for twenty minutes and I've already killed someone. I knew I shouldn't have left!”
“Whore... house...” As she repeated the words, Ella's eyes widened. “It seems I was rescued by some... interesting people.”
“It's Bordeaux, sweetheart,” Mae reminded her. “Nothing surprises you here.”
“We're not as odd as we seem, I promise!” Nico claimed.
Ella's lips were raised by a tiny smile. “Oh, I would never call you odd! I'm just grateful that you came along when you did. I feel as if I should reward you somehow, but I really have nothing to offer.” When the last of her belongings was stored in the reticule, Ella retrieved her wicker basket, even though it was depressingly empty.
“I don't require a reward. Knowing you're safe is a reward in itself.” As he spoke, Nico's gaze reluctantly returned to Harvey's corpse. “So, um... what should we do with the body?”
“Leave it,” Mae said. “Bodies turn up in Bordeaux all the time, I'm sure. They'll sweep it away tomorrow, no questions asked.”
“That's probably true,” a sighing Ella agreed. “Unfortunately.”
“So... can I walk you home? Or better yet, we can take you in our motocarriage.” Nico pointed at the vehicle. He didn't mention it was stolen.
“My house is only a few blocks away. I'm sure I'll be alright.”
“But... w-wait!” Nico sputtered. As pretty as she was, he wanted to stay in her company as long as possible. “What if something happened to you again? The sun's going down... it's getting darker. The darker it is, the more dangerous it gets. I haven't been in Bordeaux that long, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to be alone at night. So I, uh... it'd my pleasure to escort you home.”
Under her breath, Mae snorted and said, “Oh, I bet it would...”
“Very well. I would be happy to have your company... Your Highness?” Ella wasn't sure how to address him, nor did she entirely believe him. Nevertheless, she allowed him to escort her to the motocarriage. As soon as Mae was in the driver's seat, Ella recited the directions to her house. “You're both too kind. There must be something I can do to show my gratitude? Perhaps I could offer you a place to spend the night? And I could make you breakfast in the morning.”
“I would love that, Miss Clark.”
“His Royal Highness and I should really be on our way.”
Nico and Mae's answers were simultaneously given. When they realized they were in opposition, they briefly glared at one another.
“We should stay,” Nico insisted. “It would be rude to refuse her hospitality.”
“But,” Mae protested, “you need to get back to the capital as soon as possible, don't you? And besides, we don't want to inconvenience the girl.”
“Oh, it's not an inconvenience at all!” Ella objected. “In fact, my brother would probably love it. We rarely have guests.”
With the motocarriage moving at top speed, they reached Ella's house in a matter of minutes. She lived in a dilapidated shanty, barely large enough for two people, let alone four. The windows were covered in cardboard, the paint was peeling, the roof was missing some shingles, and the door was dangerously close to falling off its hinges. In the capital, Ella's house would have been condemned, but in Bordeaux, it was quite normal.
As soon as they entered, they saw Ella's brother. He was sitting in bed with a book in his hands, and he smiled when he saw them.
“This is Ben,” she introduced them. “Ben, this is Nico and Mary. They're going to be staying with us for a bit.”
“It's really great to meet you, Ben!” Mae said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Please, call me Mae. Mary is so... nun-like.”
Ben set his book aside and gave them his full attention. His doleful eyes studied his guests as the guests studied him. He was about eight or nine, with brown
skin and a bony frame. His bed was in the middle of a sitting room, which was next to a tiny kitchen. The rooms were compact but well-decorated, with flowers and charming artwork. Despite the rundown state of their house, Ella tried her best to make the interior look inviting.
“It's nice to meet you,” Ben said, though his sad voice suggested otherwise.
“Nico, Mae... you can have my room tonight. It's on the second floor of the house.” Ella pointed at a crooked staircase, which barely looked safe enough to climb. “Ben, that means you'll be sharing your bed with me.”
Ben shrugged, as if it didn't matter to him either way. He kept staring at Nico and Mae with wary, mistrustful eyes.
“Oh, Ben, I brought your medicine!” When Ella dipped into her reticule, she tried to hide it behind her hip. She didn't want her little brother to notice her bag was ripped, or give him a reason to worry. As she handed him the bottle, she said, “I'll get you some juice.”
Since the house was tiny, Ella didn't have to walk far to get to the kitchen, where she poured the juice. Ben sneered at the bottle of pills. “Did you have to talk about my medicine while these people are here?” he asked, “I don't want them to think I'm sick or something.”
“But you are sick,” Ella spoke from the kitchen. When she returned with the juice, she added, “You've been sick all your life. There's no sense in hiding from it.”
“Yeah, but they didn't need to know that right away.” Ben sighed. “They'll just feel sorry for me or think I'm a baby or something.”
“You don't look like a baby to me,” Nico said with a smile. “You look like a strong, smart young man. What are you reading?” When he tried to sneak a peek at Ben's book, the boy held it behind his back.
“It's stupid. It's kid's stuff,” Ben said. “I don't usually read this kind of thing.”
Ella suddenly snatched the book from her brother's hand. “Ah... it's a fairy tale!” Ella tattled. “This is nothing to be ashamed of, Ben. I like these stories.”
Ben pulled a pill from his bottle and drank it with his juice. “I dunno.... they're kind of dumb,” he said.
His sister disagreed. “I don't think they're dumb at all! In fact, this one has a prince in it.” Ella pointed at Nico. “You know, this guy is a prince.”
“Really?” Ben looked just as skeptical as Mae, who rolled her eyes every time Nico's supposed status was mentioned.
“Really!” Ella wasn't entirely convinced herself, but for her brother's sake, she decided to play along. Meeting a real prince would undoubtedly make Ben's day. “He even has a fancy name. What did you say your name was, Nico?”
“Nico d'Arcy Tempestua.” Nico recited his full name and bowed.
“Wow.” Ben's eyes went wide. “Then maybe Ella can be your Cinderella and you can be her prince?”
“Ben!” Ella shrieked, lightly slapping her brother's arm. “What are you doing? Don't say such crazy things!”
Though Ella looked horrified, Nico looked amused. He winked at Ben, who smiled giddily.
Before another word was said, Mae grabbed Nico's sleeve and pulled him to the stairs. “We should leave first thing tomorrow,” she whispered. “Even though we're on the opposite side of town, we're still in Bordeaux. It's dangerous to stay here. What if Vee's trying to find you? What if the people from The Velvet Dame are trying to find me? I understand that you're smitten with Ella... really, I do. And she's cute, so I don't even blame you, but you need to think with your head and not with your...” Mae pointed below his belt.
Nico gasped at the thought. “I'm not thinking with that!”
“Ohhh yes. Yes, you are. Men always do.” Mae crossed her arms and heaved a sigh. “And that always wins.”
Nineteen
When Lettie found Jared, he was swabbing the deck, straight-lipped and silent. Without a word, she picked up a mop, dunked it in the suds and joined him.
As soon as he saw what she was doing, Jared seized the mop from her hands and gasped, “What are you doing?”
Lettie shrugged. “I thought I'd help.”
“Well... don't.” Not only was he unnecessary harsh, he was also glaring at her. Lettie assumed he was still bitter about the time she knocked him over the head and stole his gun, and she didn't fault him for it. He had every right to hate her.
“Why wouldn't you want an extra pair of hands, though?” Lettie asked. “Why wouldn't you want my help?”
“Because Captain Featherstone is very particular about the way he wants his deck swabbed. He doesn't like uneven strokes. It leaves streaks on the deck, apparently.”
Lettie crinkled her nose. “That seems rather fussy of him.”
“That's not for me to judge.”
“Can you show me the proper way to do it?”
“It'd take too long to show you, and I'm supposed to finish this by sundown.”
“The whole deck?” Lettie clenched her teeth. “You're supposed to scrub the whole deck by yourself?”
“I won't be by myself the entire time. Wiggly Joe was supposed to join me later.”
“Wiggly... Joe?” Lettie repeated the name with widening eyes. “And what makes Joe so... wiggly?”
“He has a lazy left eye. Sometimes it'll look up, sometimes it'll look down, sometimes the eye will swivel from side to side. It wiggles,” Jared explained. “He has no control over it.”
Lettie overturned a large, empty bucket and used it as a stool. Judging from the sour expression on Jared's face, he wasn't thrilled by her company, but there was something she needed to say. “So... Jared. I've been meaning to apologize.”
“Apologize for what?”
Lettie didn't respond right away. She was temporarily mesmerized by Jared's graceful sweeping. The way he moved the mop was hypnotic, almost like a dance. It was Captain Featherstone's influence, no doubt. “I hurt you. I knocked you out. You were only ever kind to me, but I betrayed that kindness. So... I'm sorry.”
“It's alright,” Jared said with a shrug. “You felt like a prisoner and you wanted to get away. I can understand that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.” Jared stopped mopping and swiped his nose. “To be honest, sometimes I feel like a prisoner too.”
“You do? So you're not happy on Julian's ship?”
“I am... sometimes. But sometimes I feel underappreciated. We do a lot for Captain Featherstone, but he doesn't do much for us in return. I mean... sure we get food, lodging and money... but sometimes you want more than that. Sometimes some actual praise or gratitude would be nice.”
“I understand.” Lettie stroked her lips as she listened to Jared's complaints. “To be honest, I think you seem like a nice, well-rounded young man. You're too good for Julian, that's for sure. Your captain is... he's...” Lettie wanted to call him a twat, but she didn't want to sound less than ladylike.
“Young man?” Jared chuckled at her words. “I'm only a few years younger than you, you know.”
“Sometimes a few years can make a world of difference! But that's not to say I'm especially worldly or anything.” Lettie smiled at him—but the smile was soon wiped away by the sound of gunfire. “Oh god... what was that?”
“I don't know. You'd have to ask the captain.” Jared must not have been too concerned, because he continued swabbing the deck. “I think he's at the helm right now.”
Lettie said goodbye to Jared and left in search of Julian. As she made her way to the helm, she heard an explosion, followed by the screams of frightened men. She was dying to know what was going on, so she picked up her pace.
When she found Captain Featherstone, he was piloting the airship, looking intent. He gripped the wheel so hard, his knuckles had turned bright white.
“I can't believe it! You're actually flying the ship?” Lettie crossed her arms as she sauntered toward him. “I'll have to mark this day in my calendar! I think this is the first time you haven't been lounging on the deck!”
“Ah, Lettie. I'm glad you're here. Your face inspires me!” Juli
an exclaimed. “With your pretty eyes staring right at me, I'll be inspired not to die.”
“Is that what the explosions were? Are we going to die?” she asked.
“I don't know yet. Death is always a possibility in times like these. It's best to be prepared.” Julian nodded at one of his crewmen, who handed her a spyglass. When she raised it, she saw a pearl white airship chasing after them.
When Lettie saw the skull and crossbones fluttering on a huge black flag, she groaned, “Ugh... pirates.”
Julian bit his lip. “Indeed.”
“Did they fire at you first?”
“Yes,” Julian sighed heavily. “Lettie... listen. If I die and you live, you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“Promise me...” Julian drew a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. “Promise me you won't let anyone dress me in purple for my funeral. I hate the color purple.”
Lettie sneered. She wasn't sure if he was being serious or sarcastic, but either way, she didn't look amused.
Jolly suddenly arrived at the helm, looking even more unpleasant than usual. “They're gaining on us fast, Captain. Their ship's a fast one, it is.”
Julian was momentarily speechless as he studied his first mate's face. A moment ago, he swore he saw Jolly's eye patch over his left eye, and now it was over the right one. Julian was sure he wasn't wrong about that. He started to open his mouth to ask about it, but it really wasn't the proper time.
“What should we do, Captain?” Jolly asked. “Should we prep for battle?”
“Um... clearly!” Julian chuckled at the question. “We should already be prepping for battle, Jolly. Goodness, it should be obvious! Or do you need me to tell you everything?” Julian handed the wheel to a freckled youth and stood at Jolly's side. “Tell the men to ready the cannons. When the enemy moves closer, take the shot. We don't want to waste our ammunition on something we can't yet reach.”
They suddenly heard another explosion, and Julian's airship shook.
“I don't know, Julian. They seem to be hitting you easily enough,” Lettie pointed out. “By the way... what should I be doing right now?”
The Lady Captain (Belles & Bullets Book 4) Page 13
