Glorious Victorious Darcys 01.5 - His Broken Angel Read Online Free

copilot, was nearly as fearless when it came to outmaneuvering sky pirates or ALE. But, dash it all, the
Maverick
was a massive dirigible whereas the
Bullet
was smaller than a dinghy.
    Without warning, she nosed the winged vessel up.
    Doc’s stomach lurched as the petrol-fueled dig arced and looped then shot through an icy mist. He thought they leveled off, but he couldn’t be certain. His head was spinning.
    By the time the gutsy female docked the
Bullet
, Doc was woozy and disoriented. He couldn’t decide if the knuckle-white flight from London to somewhere north had been the shortest or longest trip of all his born days. Flying blind was an adventure Doc hoped not to repeat anytime soon.
    Focusing inward, he settled his queasy stomach and calmed his throbbing brain. “Were you really dodging ALE, Miss Darcy?” he asked in a tight voice. “Or was that your sick way of disorienting me so I wouldn’t know the location of your hideout?”
    “Yes.” She chuckled then rapped him on the shoulder. “You can lose the blindfold. We’re here.”
    “Wherever here is.” Doc unknotted the coarse fabric and readjusted his shaded goggles.
    They’d docked to a ramshackle clipper, one of three airships in a one-horse skytown. A dense cloud bank shielded the ground below. They could be anywhere.
    He swiped off the borrowed aviator cap and retrieved his derby from beneath the compact seat. Smoothing the dented crown then tugging it on, he scowled at his annoying
escort
.
    “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she said. “I don’t trust anyone. We’re in deep shite this time.”
    “As opposed to the other times Jasper broke the law?” Doc disembarked on shaky legs, his boots hitting a planked gangway that led to the floating clipper.
    His brother’s rebellious ways had branded him an outlaw years before. The fact that he was now the leader of an aggressive faction of the Freak Fighters only escalated his “wanted” status. No wonder he’d taken refuge in a skytown. These floating pleasure meccas operated above the law and appealed to anyone wanting to indulge in illegal or dubious pastimes—outlawed rock music, hallucinogenic drugs, gambling, drinking, extreme fantasies, and free love. Nowhere was the influence of the Peace Rebels, who’d time traveled from 1969 back to 1857, more evident than in a skytown. Transient and tolerant, skytowns welcomed one and all, even Mods and Freaks.
    Glancing at the main mast, Doc noted the iconic PR flag with its circle and two-legged stick. If he couldn’t smooth things over with Tuck, maybe he’d apply for a position on one of these rigs. It would beat the Sam Hill out of trying to practice medicine among conventional society where Freaks’ rights—including what professions they could pursue—were restricted.
    “This is different,” P.J. said, as she finished mooring the
Bullet
.
    For the first time since Doc had met the direct aviatrix, she didn’t look cocky. Nope. She looked a little worried, which was disconcerting. “That botched mission you mentioned. Did it involve Prime Minister Madstone?”
    “You’ll have to ask your brother.”
    “Where is Jasper?”
    “Around.”
    Anticipation and dread assaulted Doc in double-barreled shot.
Don’t lecture
, he told himself, preparing to see his brother.
Reason, but don’t lecture
. Jasper had never been one to take advice, especially from his big brother.
    Rolling the tension from his shoulders, Doc nabbed his medical bag. He was anxious to get on with his life. He eyed P.J. as she stepped away from her dig. “Where’s Miss Gentry?”
    “Follow me.” His graceless escort stalked over the swinging gangway then across the ship’s deck, red braids whipping in the frigid winds. “The faster you fix that girl, the better. For her. For us. Every day we linger …”
    P.J. trailed off, acknowledging a man loaded for bear to their left then another just ahead. Part of the elite Fighter squad, no doubt. They nodded at