The Assassin’s Guide to Falling in Love (The Ladies League #1)

Chapter Twenty

O uch! Lou’s head felt like it had blown a gasket.

The throbbing was bad enough, but the nausea had her on her knees and panting like an animal. It was horrible to experience, let alone in front of two men who stood snickering the whole time.

She drew a slow deep breath and her stomach calmed, but then the floor tilted and swayed—or was that her? Lou struggled to look around; everything appeared to be where it had been. She was fairly certain it wasn’t her vision.

Should she question the men? The need to be sure forced her hand. “Are we on an air-ship?”

“Aye,” one of the men said just as the air-ship hit an air pocket and dropped a foot or two in altitude.

She groaned. Had Sir Francis captured her and dragged her onboard that ship he was trying to board? What was it? The Sky Chaser? Ugh!

She and airships did not get along, not in the least. Air pockets, like the one they just experienced, were among the many reasons she disliked flying—but the biggest reason she hated it? Simple. God hadn’t deemed it appropriate to give her wings. Lou took that as a sure sign humans were not made to soar through the sky, especially not in something that resembled a flying metal sloop less its sails. Give her two wheels and a powerful steam engine to speed her along, and she would get where she needed to go just fine.

Most unfortunately, it seemed the men who had abducted her did not see fit to confer with her on her preferences for travel. Most fortunately, they hadn’t bothered to tie her up. That would make it easier for her to slip away at some point. Eventually they would have to land at an air-field or, worst case, dock at an air-port, would they not? So as her stomach calmed down—at least, as much as it would so long as she was flying—and the throb in her head eased, Lou sized up the two men left to watch her.

On the one hand, she found it insulting that once again, men had underestimated her skills. On the other hand, she frequently found it very useful that they did so. Not even tying her up? The fools. This would prove to be in her favor once again.

With as little warning as she could muster under the circumstances, Lou lunged from her position on all fours and leapt at the two men. Catching them both by surprise, she managed to get in a good wallop to the one who’d offered the one-word answer—she named him One-word in her head—and turned to face his companion.

“I don’t think so, lassie.” The man’s thick Scottish burr made it hard to decipher each word precisely, but she got the gist of what he meant…mostly because he pulled a knife from his sock and waved it at her as though it were somehow menacing.

With a wicked grin Lou lunged forward, ducking low and to the side to avoid his sloppy thrust. Granted, it took skill to fight with a knife, but even lumbering fools could get lucky and kill you. With a few well timed moves, she continued to avoid his wildly thrusting knife while maneuvering to a good angle to disarm him. By then, the idiot was panting heavily with all the efforts of trying to keep up with her. When he was good and tired, Lou kicked the wrist of his knife hand and forced the blade free. With a low sweep to the ground that took out his legs, she scooped the weapon up and had it poised at the man’s throat as he tried to right himself.

That was about the time his friend had gathered his wits and realized the situation had gotten well and truly out of hand. In a comical gesture, One-word’s shoulders slumped as he took in the situation.

“Since we find ourselves in this position,” Lou panted darkly, “I think we can work together to get out of it. I am sure you both, particularly you, Scotty, would like to continue to breathe beyond today. Since I want very much to get off this flying deathtrap, I think we can come to an arrangement. I am going to tie you two up, or if you prefer, knock you out, and I shall solemnly swear not to kill you. In exchange, you will tell me how to get to one of the escape hatches so that I might depart your esteemed company. How does that sound, gentlemen?” They both nodded, though Scotty did so far more carefully than One-word.

“Now, about those directions?” Lou waited until One-word found a few more.

“Ye need only head toward the mizzen mast, aft of the ship. Just before the engines ye’ll find the escape hatches and the crew air-chutes.”

Lou wanted to groan. Chutes? “So I simply strap on the chute and jump?”

“No’ exactly, lass. It would be more that ye would climb into yon basket and drop.” Scotty trembled beneath her blade for a moment.

Her stomach rolled at the idea.

Still, she had subdued the fools, and pleased with their rather affable natures, Lou looked around the room they were currently in. There was not any available rope, nor anything similarly suited with which to bind the men. As unfortunate as it would be for them later, she knocked Scotty alongside his head just hard enough to put him out.

When One-word’s eyes grew huge, she shrugged. “Apologies, but there isn’t any rope around. I’m sure you can understand my dilemma.”

The man shook his head and took one step back—but Lou was far fleeter of foot than One-word and quickly had him lying next to his friend.

With her guards out of the way, she crept to the door and peeked out. Her heart raced, blood pumping so violently through her body that she felt almost giddy. It was a strange sensation, and not one she’d felt in years.

The hallway was empty for the moment, so she dashed out of the relative safety of the room and on toward freedom. Lou had to admit there was something exciting about making an escape—even if it was necessitated because she’d actually let someone get the slip on her. She mentally growled at herself. So bloody focused on saving Giff that I missed some clod creeping up behind me. This is why you don’t break the bloody rules! She took a deep breath and focused. She had to get off this flying contraption and back to Griff.

It was straightforward to sort out where she was on the air-ship. The perpetual pump-hiss of the steam engines could be heard faintly in the distance, suggesting the ship had a steam-thrust engine configuration. Balancing the urge to run with the need for stealth, she made her way carefully down the hall, about to round a corner when she heard voices approaching. With a silent curse, Lou retreated to the last door she’d passed and tried it. The handle turned, and she found a dark little closet to tuck herself in while the coming voices came closer.

As the men passed her door, she could hear their voices grow louder then fade away. Once it sounded safe, she cracked her door open and scooted out along the passageway. Twice more Lou had to find quick hidey-holes, but eventually she made her way to the mizzenmast and found the airlock with the escape chutes.

She grabbed one of the giant baskets which had a canopy attached and dragged it toward the emergency launch mechanism which sat next to an exterior door that could be used when the air-ship was on the ground. Too bad she couldn’t just slip out that way now. But alas, she had plans after leaving this air-ship, and plummeting to her death wasn’t one of them.

Lou was about to climb in and hit the release button when the passageway door popped open and an all-too familiar and rather stunningly beautiful man appeared, along with another man who faded into obscurity in comparison. His sharp, assessing gaze made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end—but it wasn’t the first time she’d seen him. It wasn’t even the second, though it was doubtful he would recognize her from their interlude at the Bureau, since she no longer resembled a boy.

“Leaving so soon, Madame LaRoux? Were your accommodations and companions not up to your standards?” Dell asked, a slight sneer in his voice.

Lou crouched down, setting herself closer to the acquired blade she’d tucked in her boot. “Do spare me the whole villainous confession, Dell, this is no Shakespearean tragedy. I plan to live well past this day.” She darted a wary glance at the second man, who was edging out and to her right as Dell moved to her left.

“You know I can’t let you leave here and tell Griff the truth. But, as you wish. To business.” Dell nodded and together, the two men lunged toward her.

Lou squatted lower, grabbed the knife, and whipped up into Dell’s attack. As he jammed her back against the wall, she drove the knife into his right shoulder. Determined not to lose the weapon to his flesh and bones, she lifted a knee up into his thigh as she placed her hand on his chest and shoved him back, freeing her blade as he went. He tumbled to the floor with a cry of pain as the blade slid back out the way it had gone in.

The goon who had joined him grabbed the wrist of her hand which held the blade, but not at all opposed to fighting dirty, she spun and kicked the man in his family jewels. Resolved to get the steaming hell off the ship, Lou lunged for the open passageway door and slammed it shut, cutting off any potential reinforcements coming to their aid. The goon crumpled in pain as she turned the lock.

Exhaustion was quickly tugging at her eyes, and she certainly couldn’t allow more men to come to Dell’s aid or she would be caught—if not killed.

Injured, but persistent, Dell grabbed her boot and tried to pull her away from the door. She had just gotten the lock turned when she was hauled away and stumbled to her knees. Cogit all! Would he not just lay down and be injured?

Dell lurched, one arm useless and bloody, and tried to ram her into the wall again. Her opponent pushed against her shoulders—though not as hard as the first time—pinning her to the bulkhead and heaving a breath as they both struggled for air. Steaming Hells! Was she going to die here from lack of air to breathe?

She knew it would get worse once she hit the depressurization button but it currently taunted her from across the room. I’ll get there. I must. It was her way back to Griff. She had to ensure his safety—

The goon crawled to his feet and snarled, “Let me take care of this. The bitch needs a lesson in manners.”

Dell still had her pinned, but he shifted to one side and the goon slammed his meaty fist into Lou’s belly. Steaming hells! Did the man have bricks in his hands? Pain flared across her body as she tried to catch her breath. Fighting through it, blade still in hand, she lifted her arm around the outside of the goon’s and sliced downward across his upper arm. He grunted as he pulled back and she returned for a more lethal approach. Picking up her right foot, she kicked Dell’s knee out, causing him to drop like a stone. Barely able to breathe, Lou knew she needed to end the fight soon or she wouldn’t survive this two-on-one. The goon had more mass than she did, so now she’d put Dell down, her only advantage was her conditioning and experience.

She’d have to hope they’d be enough.

The goon lunged forward and wrapped his hands around her throat. With a little grunt, Lou reached around his side and jabbed the blade between two of his ribs. If she were lucky, it would hit a vital organ, or at the very least deflate a lung. Either scenario worked for her. The brute growled, but drew up short as he tried to maneuver away from the sharp object currently sticking in his side. Lou jerked backwards, but the damn thing seemed stuck in his flesh.

There was only one thing for it. Letting go of the hilt, she pushed all thirteen stone of the man aside—she’d be damned if he weighed any less. With a much less graceful move thanks to her aching lungs and exhausted muscles, Lou bashed the depressurization button on the wall that would allow the escape hatch of the airlock to open once she was ready—but unexpectedly, the exterior door she’d noticed earlier opened, letting the wind whip through the compartment.

She blinked in confusion. Had she done that when she’d depressurized? But as the air swirled around her with a vicious force, a hand reached out and snatched her back from the open hatch, where brilliant daylight currently poured in. How is the blighter still conscious? Does it matter now that his hands are on my throat again?

And then seemingly out of thin air, Griff appeared.

Griff felt several emotions ripple through him as he stepped off the steam-powered dingy and inside the airlock of the Sky Chaser. His first realization was that a man currently had both hands wrapped around Lou’s throat, choking the life out of her even as she punched him next to the blade jammed in his side while a second man lying on the floor, clutched his knee.

Clearly this had not been a fair fight, though why he should ever think it would have been could only be chalked up to his upbringing.

His second realization, and the more shocking of the two, was that the man on the floor was one of his best friends—Dell.

But that had to wait. With a growl born of a rage he did not know he could possess, Griff charged the brute choking Lou and landed a ferocious punch to the side of his head. It didn’t knock him out—that was the stuff of fairytales—but the blow caused the blaggard to release Lou. She stumbled back against the bulkhead, hands clutched at her throat as she gasped for air. The thug tripped to his left, but turned to face Griff, taking a protective stance in front of Dell who appeared to be sitting up now. Griff got a good look at the mess his friend seemed to be, and wondered how long the three had been fighting.

Before he could say anything, Dell snarled, “ You . Always you stepping in and ruining things. Why could you not follow your father’s lead?”

Nonplussed for a moment, Griff wasn’t sure how to reply, then decided to save the chit chat for later. He whipped out the billy-club Cole had happily armed him with and swung at the goon’s head. He caught him hard enough that the man fluttered to the ground like a deflated steam-powered bellows.

Then Griff looked at Dell and shook his head. “Why, Dell? Why would you do all of this? And to me, of all people?”

Dell seemed shocked by his questions. “You know what happened to me—and despite that you continued to dabble in steam. You tossed me aside as a friend long before this. You made that choice when you became the Lord of Cogs!”

His former friend lurched forward, leaving Griff no choice—though it pained him to crack his friend on the head and watch him slide to the floor.

The need to see Lou to safety had him turning to find her still leaning against the wall. The wind whipped wildly, making it hard to talk without shouting, and he guessed her throat wouldn’t appreciate a chat at the moment. Opting for the most expedient exit, he simply scooped her up and proceeded to whence he’d come. At the opening of the escape hatch of the Sky Chaser, he found the steam-dingy he’d used to sneak over, still waiting for him with one of Cole’s crew manning the small air-ship.

Once he had Lou on board the open-air single propeller craft, Griff jumped in and the three of them headed for the relative safety of Cole’s airship…the Sweet Annie. He finally remembered the name of Cole’s ship, but of course the man wasn’t here.

As they reached their ship, the Sky Chaser commenced firing on them with her mounted guns. Great Trevithick! Cole must be furious that they’re firing on his ship. He certainly was angry, but more because they’d snatched Lou and were now threatening her life.

They hurried to board the Sweet Annie, stowing the dingy before they peeled away from the ship now firing at them. With a gush of steam that sounded like a trainyard of locomotives, they accelerated at a speed that had them all grabbing something to hang on to while they adjusted and clouds raced past. When they’d been in pursuit, Cole had gleefully explained the engine modifications he’d made to allow the Sweet Annie to outrun—in this case, catch up to—even the fastest known air-ship. The Sky Chaser never had a chance to turn and give chase.

While Griff would have dearly loved to go and inspect the engines that powered the Sweet Annie, he was more concerned about Lou at the moment. He had to take care of her—as she had prevented him from doing before. With little fuss and brooking no arguments, he had Lou installed in his rooms and after depositing her, he went and rustled up hot water so he could provide her with a honey and whiskey tea while she recovered. Mostly, he sought a moment alone so he could command his racing heart to calm. Having damn near lost her, he was having a hard time not lashing her to the bed in an effort to protect her. He returned to his room to find the injured woman trying to rise from the bed where he’d laid her.

“Griff, this is ridiculous. Let me up so I may bathe.” Lou tried to rise for the fifth time since they’d returned but her voice sounded like she had gravel clogging it instead of the melodious tone she normally spoke with.

“ Louisa . You will stay in that bed until such time as I deem you sufficiently recovered.” Or perhaps until he deemed his nerves sufficiently recovered. It was possible he was being a bit overbearing, but honestly, who could blame him?

“Bloody men. I was doing quite well escaping until you distracted me.” Lou set her tea down and crossed her arms, letting out an annoyed huff.

“Yes, my dear. I could see how well you were managing things…what with that thug’s hands wrapped around your throat.” Griff wanted to toss the woman over his knee and paddle her backside, but for the moment, he restrained himself. That would be something to enjoy, at leisure, on another occasion...

“I had escaped the room I was held in, navigated my way to the escape hatch and was doing a bang up job of non-fatally debilitating that fiend after doing the same to—”

Griff sighed wearily and sat on the edge of the bed. “One of my best friends.”

“I know.” Her stricken expression mirrored his own inner turmoil. “I can’t say for sure, but I believe he was the one who Sir Francis gave the money to.”

“It would make sense. He is the Under-Secretary of Steam and decidedly not a supporter of steam technology. I imagine if he is this involved in things, he’s likely more than a mere supporter of electricity.” It was hard to imagine, but Dell had been drifting away from both him and Cole since they graduated university all those years ago. A lifetime ago.

“I’m sorry.” Lou looked adorably contrite, though she had nothing to apologize for. “How did you find me in the end?”

He shrugged, as if this little adventure were the norm, and told her of his journey to find her.

She stared and he could see the wheels spinning as she turned over all that she knew and had seen. “And how is it you happen to have an air-ship at your disposal? I can’t imagine Holt allowed you to take one of the Crown’s ships on such an endeavor.” Her voice grew raspier with every exchange.

Holt—H. It had been an annoying question since the beginning, but now that he knew, it changed nothing. How strange. But Lou had asked him a question…

He considered not telling her, but keeping secrets had proven rather detrimental to both their relationship and their health. No more secrets. No more lies. “Cole had offered his air-ship and I took him up on it once I learned where you were. Some of what I have seen on board the Sweet Annie confirms what we suspected, he too has some of his own secrets.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I dare say we have enough of our own issues at hand that we should likely ignore whatever it is you suspect.” She paused, chewing her lower lip. “Unless you think he is involved with Dell’s plot?”

Griff’s gut revolted at the notion. “Oh no, I merely suspect my friend is more pirate and less above board importer-exporter.”

“Ah, well then. Perhaps we should leave that topic well enough alone. For now, we should determine our next maneuver.” Lou reached for her tea and took another sip.

Her voice was near to giving out, or so he suspected. “You need to rest, at least for a bit. We have hours until we are safely back in London. Rest, my…rest, Lou. You are safe now.”