Ultimate Nyssa Glass H. Burke (bookstand for reading .txt) 📖

The pendant hung from a diamond-studded rope of twisted gold, but the ruby eclipsed the other stones like the sun compared to midnight stars. It was a deep, throbbing red, as long as a hen’s egg but cut into a many-faceted oval. It weighed against her palm.

The men Nyssa had grown up around would’ve called this the score of a lifetime, a single piece that could pay for everything one ever wanted, provide wealth, comfort, whatever luxuries men like that dreamed of … probably loose women and flowing alcohol. For Nyssa, though, it could mean never being dependent on another human again, always being sure of her next meal, never having to steal or beg … or even work unless she desired.

Still, whoever this necklace belonged to, it certainly didn’t belong to her. Now that she’d cut into the box, she couldn’t very well hide that she’d found it. Even if she put it back, Renard would be sure to question it … could she confront him and Amara with it? Demand their side of the story? Or would Renard just pull his revolver again, take it by force, and leave her and Ellis to deal with the fallout from Blythe?

If only she could go to the captain with it, or someone in ship security, and let them decide. However, the knowledge that her face was on a wanted poster, combined with her thieving past, no matter how distant, made that inadvisable. Give it to Ellis to take care of? I did tell him I’d let him speak to Amara first … I’ll go to him, see what he’s found.

Nyssa slipped the necklace into the pocket of her peacoat. She carefully replaced the now-empty hatbox, then the cushion, and vaulted over the gap between the raft and the airship. The space crossed, she ran to the door and slammed it shut behind her.

She continued through the crew area and into the staterooms. A few doors down from their stateroom, a red-headed man stood in the hallway. Something about his stance, his square shoulders and imposing height, struck her as familiar. He smiled when she approached.

“Ah, Miss, just the woman I want to see. My employer, Mr. Blythe, wishes to have a word with you.”

Nyssa swallowed. She could bolt past him, but then Blythe would know she was hiding something. “He’s early. I have at least another hour.”

“Mr. Blythe believes in keeping his employees on their toes.” The man’s grin widened, revealing yellow teeth. “Come on.”

She cringed. Something about him didn’t remind her of a manservant. No, he looked like he’d be more at home with her late uncle’s thieving comrades.

Ignore him. Refuse, and if he protests, get Renard’s gun.

Nyssa took a step forward, then an airman in the black and white uniform of ship security entered at the other end of the hall. Her heart dropped. What if he recognized her from her wanted posters?

The manservant’s rough, meaty hand clamped down on her wrist. She shook him off. He growled. The airman looked up. Nyssa angled away, her breath quickening.

The manservant glanced from her to the airman, then cleared his throat. He offered her his arm. “Shall I escort you, Miss?”

The airman eyed them. Nyssa took the servant’s arm, trying to look as if nothing were wrong.

Nyssa hid behind the manservant as they passed the airman. By the time the airman had exited the hall into the crew area, they were already in front of Blythe’s door.

The manservant gave a mocking bow. “Ladies first.”

Nyssa said a quick prayer and opened the door.

Chapter Ten

The manservant remained outside as Nyssa entered Blythe’s cabin. The older man sat upon his bed, his hands resting atop his bronze-handled cane.

“How is your mission coming along?” he asked.

Nyssa drew a deep breath. “It’s coming. How do I know I can trust you, though? That the necklace truly does belong to you and not Amara?”

“I suppose you could ask yourself, how would a foolish young ingenue like my niece, with her poor taste in men and her decided lack of judgment, come into rightful ownership of such a treasure? You saw the photograph of the jewel upon my dearly departed mother’s breast?”

“Hardly undeniable proof.” Nyssa crossed her arms. The stone felt heavy in her pocket, and she was certain the bulge must be visible. Hopefully her position obscured it.

“Perhaps.” Blythe’s eyes narrowed. “I will say, however, that I’m not a man who is used to being crossed. If you would stand between me and what is rightfully mine, be prepared to be crushed … you and everything that has meaning to you.”

“Very little in my life has meaning to me.” Nyssa forced an unconcerned shrug. It was mostly true. Other than Ellis, she couldn’t think of any entanglements, and Ellis could take care of himself.

Blythe stood. He twisted his cane, and with a rasp of metal on metal, the handle detached, revealing a long silver blade. Nyssa’s heart faltered.

“Don’t trifle with me, girl. You’ve had time to search the stateroom, and I suspect you already had an idea where the gem was hidden. Now, do you or do you not have the Dragon’s Heart?”

He’s an old man. I’m young and quick … but choosing to fight him now burns a bridge. Do I trust him, or do I trust Amara?

An image of Renard with a gun to Ellis’s throat flashed through her head, and she drew the ruby from her pocket.

Blythe’s eyes glinted as he sheathed his blade. He tapped the metallic device lodged in his ear with his fingertip. “It’s good to see it again. I’m glad you came to your senses.”

“Well, you’re right. You make more sense as the owner than Amara. I’m not a thief, Mr. Blythe, and I’m not interested in being an accomplice to thievery.”

“Not a thief anymore, you mean, Miss Glass?” He raised a bushy eyebrow.

Nyssa stiffened. She hadn’t told him her name.

He reached into his vest and pulled out a folded