Chapter Twelve #2
“We’re just visiting.” Stone slid his hand from hers and emptied his entire drink. He grimaced before slamming the glass down on the table. “You’re being rude to my wife,” he said. “Now drink with me, celebrate like old times, stop acting like a fucking prick.”
Aesira’s heart galloped in her chest. What was he doing? No drinking was the first and most absolute rule he gave her. Stone waved one of the women down with the flowing skirts and grabbed another glass.
“There he is.” Vic laughed and grabbed a glass of his own. “Welcome back, viper.” They clinked their glasses together and drank.
You could tell a lot about a person by the way they acted when they were drunk. It started with a shift in body language.
Stone, who typically held his shoulders high and his jaw tight, now lounged in the chair with a broad smile spread over his face.
His hands, which were taking turns grabbing another glass and resting on Aesira’s knee, were now enthusiastically swiping through the air as he told Vic the story of the sandstorm they flew through on the way here.
“Gusts so big they sent swells of sand clear up to the masts.”
Aesira didn’t know Stone well, but she liked to think she knew him enough to know that if he were sober, this story would be a lot more dry.
So while she was entertained to see him so relaxed, she was also doubling up her guard.
She would need to be alert for the both of them, now.
She would also, it seemed, need to somehow remind her partner of the reason they came here tonight. To find information about Desmond.
“Stone,” she said as his story dwindled and Vic rose to use the restroom. His glasses were off, tucked into the front pocket of his shirt. His eyes were glassy as he tried to find focus on her face. “What happened to not drinking?”
He shrugged. “Need to make him believe we’re only here to celebrate. Figured this was the best way to put him at ease.” He wrapped a finger around one of her curls. “You’re very pretty,” he said through a lazy smile. “But I’m going to be sick.”
“Oh no you’re not,” she warned. “Pull it together.” She clipped the last word short as Vic returned with a fresh round of drinks.
He handed one to Stone, then the other to Aesira.
Stone had somehow managed to polish off her drinks while Vic wasn’t looking before, but as he raised his glass for a toast, she knew she’d have to partake.
“To the happy couple.” Vic’s gaze slid to Aesira’s dipping to her chest briefly. She clenched her jaw. “May your love be endless.” Stone mumbled a garbled ‘here, here,’ before tossing his drink back. Vic took a slow sip, keeping his eyes on her.
Damnit.
She pressed the glass to her lips. The sweet bubbles popped when they hit her tongue, but burned as she swallowed. She looked at Vic again, who wore a smile like he’d just won first place in some sick race.
“How long will you be in the Outpost?” Vic asked.
Stone hiccupped and Aesira clenched her fists to keep from shaking him. “We’re only passing through on our way–” the words were out of her mouth before she could think any better. Vic’s brows raised and damnit, how was she the one to let such a detail slip?
Stone had been drinking all night and yet she was the one who jeopardized their story.
“Passing through to where?” Vic set his glass down, still full.
“The Isles.” Stone sat up, pulling his glasses from his pocket and slipping them on. “Lucy’s never been. Thought I’d show her something other than the desert.”
The lie wasn’t totally unbelievable. Except that the Isles were in the opposite direction of the Outpost and months away by ship and required an exorbitant amount of money.
Vic’s dark eyes bounced between them. As if he was waiting for another slip up. Waiting to pounce on one of them for lying. “You’re lucky to have found each other.”
Stone shifted beside her, close enough she could smell the drink still on his lips, feel the heat of his skin. His eyes met hers, wide and somehow clearer than before and without saying it, she knew what he was asking.
Make him believe us. Make him trust us.
She closed the final gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a brief, barely-there kiss that lit her up from her stomach to her toes.
Stone was still close enough to her that if she shifted at all, her nose would brush his. “Very lucky,” he whispered but Vic paid no mind, talking as if they weren’t even there.
“Isles are beautiful this time of year,” Vic said but Aesira barely heard him.
Her mind was stuck on Stone’s lips. On the sweetness of his breath and the gentleness of his fingers as they tangled with hers.
“Your timing is interesting. Not long ago we had another visitor passing through. So rare to have outsiders here at the Outpost and now we’ve had two in a span of a week.
” Vic picked up his glass from earlier and took a sip.
“Must be the eclipse, making people anxious for change.”
There it was.
Their opening.
Panic surged in her chest as she waited for Stone to say something. To do something. Forget the kiss, she thought, if he doesn’t get the information we need–
“Another visitor?” Stone sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “How peculiar.”
Vic grunted. He pulled a fresh cigar from his pocket and soon the room smelt of smoke and sweet from the drinks. “Seemed harmless, albeit not totally sane. Kept mumbling to himself. Scribbling shit on parchment. We saw to it he didn’t stay long.”
Desmond.
It had to be Desmond.
Blood rushed to Aesira’s cheeks. “How did he find his way here?”
Vic shrugged, another ring of smoke floating between them. “Desert brings all sorts of people. Drifters. Madmen.” He watched her through the twisting bands of smoke. “Sculptors.”
Aesira’s head was fuzzy, a mix of the alcohol and information and Stone’s kiss made it impossible for her to concentrate. “It’s getting late. Should we head back to the inn?” She squeezed Stone’s hand.
“You’re probably right, as usual.” He shot her a wink. “Vic,” he said as he stood, “thank you for the celebratory drinks. I’m glad we could make amends.” Stone extended his hand, but when Vic took it he pulled Stone forward, slamming him into his chest.
“Did you think you could really come into my house and lie to me?”
“We aren’t–” He pushed Stone away.
“Tell me where you’re going.” Vic snapped his fingers, sending two men rushing from the corners of the room, like spiders descending from their webs.
Aesira chastised herself for not spotting them earlier. But she saw them now, and now would have to be enough. Vic’s attention was honed in on Stone, grabbing him by the collar.
“I know Stone Odega didn’t come all the way to the Outpost to show this bitch the sights.” A glint struck from his gold tooth as he smiled.
Stone sighed and shook his head. “I really wish you didn’t just say that.” Stone reared back, his forehead colliding with Vic’s nose, spurts of blood dripping down his manicured face.
The men closed in around them, various weapons in their palms; knives, a club, a heavy ball and chain. Aesira’s brain went to work, categorizing the best way to escape while Stone and Vic had it out with each other.
The blade holstered to her thigh was in her hand and slashing through one of Vic’s men before she took another breath. She cast a quick glance at Stone, still brawling with Vic, before she moved onto the next man. He was larger than the first, but that made him slower.
She ducked around a punch, dropping to her knees and slashing her blade on the back of his thigh.
He screamed out, then swung for her again, but she was already on her way to Stone.
Both men were bloodied and she could hardly tell who had the upper hand but Aesira’s blade tucked under Vic’s chin, freezing his next move.
“I wouldn’t,” she said, kicking his legs from under him. She dug the knife deeper as he fell to his knees, a few droplets of warm blood ran down the blade, pooling onto her hand.
Stone used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face, crouching to meet Vic’s eye. “Thanks for the drinks.” His fist collided with Vic’s jaw and when he fell to the ground, they bolted for the door.
The wind ripped through her thin dress as she and Stone ran through the Outpost. Aquila was hovering in the distance, shouting growing closer behind them with every step.
“I suppose I owe you.” Stone pulled her hand, guiding her down a small alley which ended up being a shortcut to the docks.
“Yes,” Aesira said, “I suppose you do.”
“What the hell happened?” Nora was the first to greet them as they stumbled aboard.
“No time.” Stone brushed her off. “We need to move. Now.” He barked a few orders at Birdie and Bee and then the Aquila lifted off the ground with a rough shake. The sand below them skirted out in all directions, limiting their visibility.
“You need to let her warm!” Birdie shouted against the roaring wind.
“Again, no time.” Stone cranked the wheel and yelled for Patch to set the main sails.
Aesira’s heart raced, blood from Vic’s men still staining her fingers.
She pulled her goggles over her eyes and her mask over her mouth.
Through the grit of the sand-festered wind, she could make out the outline of another ship. Its black sails tattered but strong.
“Vic’s on us!” Bee shouted.
Stone cursed then cranked the wheel harder than before, sending her and the rest of the cadre sliding across the deck.
Wood splintered under her nails as she clung to a beam, her chest burning from exertion.
The ship surged in the opposite direction, flinging her body like a ragdoll.
The wind and sand pelted the air, leaving tiny abrasions on her exposed cheeks, over her bare arms and legs.
Stone clenched the wheel until his knuckles turned white, his body craning to the left.
He needed help turning the ship.