The Barefoot Barmaid (Belles & Bullets Book 1) Read online

  “It has?”

  “Yeah.” The corners of Kitt's mouth dipped into a frown. “But I'd rather die than be stuck on an airship with a rotten bloke like that.”

  3

  Kitt checked herself in the looking glass, as she always did, before heading off to work. Her short ginger hair was tucked away under a cap. Her full, pink lips were dipping into a permanent frown, and her dark brown eyes were swimming in sadness. “This is life,” she whispered to her reflection. “This is all there is. Just this. Every day.”

  She was feeling more disheartened than ever when she entered the kitchen and saw her stepmother sitting at the table, once again wearing her slippers. “Raine...” Kitt drew a deep breath as she prepared to ask her question. “Do you--”

  Her stepmother interrupted. “No! You don't have to say it, girl! I already know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no. These shoes are mine.”

  “I was going to ask if you'd even care if I was dead, but I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that as well.” Kitt's shoulders collapsed as she made her way to the door. “I'll... see you later.”

  “Buy yourself some new slippers!” Raine shrilled the suggestion as Kitt was leaving the house. “You make money at that job of yours, right? You might not make much, but what else could you possibly need to spend it on?”

  Kitt sighed and closed the door. On feet as bare as the day before, she marched to the street lamp where she was supposed to meet Tobias. Along the way, an enormous black shadow crawled across the ground. Kitt didn't have to look up to know what it was. An airship. “Take me with you...” she whispered to the airship's crew. “Somewhere, anywhere, please! I can't stand to be here anymore!”

  If she was gone, she knew she would miss none of it. The sound of hissing machinery, their engines grinding and screeching. The smog in the air, choking her lungs, as bits of ash peppered the sky. Kitt knew her situation was hardly different than anyone else living in the slums of Lundun, and she was no special case, but she knew she was meant for something else. Something better. She felt it in her gut.

  Kitt and Tobias rode the train to Lucky's, as they had so many times before. She feared she would be admonished for showing up barefoot yet again, but Lucky didn't even glance in her direction. She did, however, have the attention of Francis Doon, who was sitting in the pub for a second day in a row. It wasn't particularly surprising, as the pub had many regulars. Even Grim had returned. Nevertheless, something about Doon's unflinching gaze brought a chill to her spine.

  “Mr. Dobbs.” Kitt approached one of the aforementioned regulars with a groan. He was standing in the corner of the room in his knickers, babbling to himself. This was also hardly uncommon.

  “Did it for the money...” Dobbs murmured against the wall. “She was in it for the money, for the money, she was! That's all she was. Used me for that and that and nothing else.”

  “Mr. Dobbs,” Kitt sighed as he repeated the raving octogenarian's name. “Will you please sit down? You might disrupt the other customers if you do this.”

  Dobbs gave his scantily-clad rear end a revolting scratch, then he muttered again, “The wife only wanted the money. She hadn't a care in the world other than that. You poke someone so many times and you know they're going to crack.”

  “Come on, Mr. Dobbs.” Kitt gently took him by the shoulder and led him to one of the nearby tables. “Why don't you sit down right here and I'll bring you a drink or a treat. Is there something you want?”

  “Lemonade,” Mr. Dobbs was in tears as he uttered the word. “An ice cold lemonade would be good. Extra ice please.”

  “Alright.” Kitt sighed again, because it meant she would have to make a special trip to the ice house just for him. “I'll be back with it as soon as I can, okay?”

  As she made her way to the ice house behind the pub, she was intercepted by her friend Tayla. She was one of the other barmaids, just a few years older than Kitt. Lucky preferred Tayla because she had long blonde hair and wasn't afraid to flirt—which, according to Lucky, made his customers happy.

  Tayla tossed her golden hair over her shoulder, seized Kitt's arm and whispered maniacally, “Good god he's handsome, in't he?”

  “Who?” Kitt was just talking to Mr. Dobbs, so her mind was still on him—though she doubted her friend was referring to the mad old man.

  “Dun. The pirate. Whatever his name is!”

  “Doon?”

  “Yeah, that one.” Tayla clasped a hand over her heart and sighed dreamily. “What I wouldn't give for a night with him!”

  “I suppose you could always ask for a night with him?” Kitt suggested with a shrug. “He seems like the roguish type. I doubt he'd say no.”

  “You think so? 'Cause Veronika said she propositioned him last night and the bloke didn't seem interested at all!” Tayla fluffed her hair with her fingers and gazed in the pirate's direction with a predatory look in her eyes. “It's strange though, innit? He might be a challenge, and I do like a challenge. I bet he likes it dirty, too. Do you think he likes it dirty?”

  “Well... good luck with that!” Kitt didn't have a tremendous amount of experience with men—in fact, she had none—so she didn't have much to offer to the conversation. “I've really got to get back to work, Tayla. I'll see you later.” As she parted ways with her friend, she sent a furtive glance in the direction of Doon. Until Tayla said something about him, Kitt never really thought of him as handsome, but she supposed he wasn't entirely unappealing. Either way, considering his reputation, he wasn't someone with whom she cared to interact. In fact, she planned to go out of her way to avoid him.

  Kitt's trip to the ice house was interrupted once again, this time by Tobias. “K-K-K-Ki-Kitt.” He stuttered her name so badly, even his ears were blushing in frustration. “You look upset. Do you need my help with anything?”

  “I'm quite alright, Tobey, thank you.” She briefly forced a smile onto her lips and kept walking. She hoped she wasn't too dismissive because she knew she was lucky to have a friend like Tobias. He was a young man of unfailing kindness, and she appreciated him for that. Lately, however, she found it difficult to appreciate much of anything.

  Kitt exited the pub via the back entrance and continued toward her destination. The ice house was just outside, but she was intercepted yet again.

  “Turn around slowly, girl. You try anythin', you're dead.”

  Kitt suddenly felt icy cold metal pressed against the back of her neck. Obeying the speaker's command, she slowly turned until she was facing him.

  “Grim.” Her voice crackled nervously as she addressed him by name. “I have no idea what you're planning, but you don't want to do this.”

  “See, that's where yer wrong.” He kept his sword pointed directly at her throat as he bared his teeth and plucked a bit of spinach from the crooked bottom row. “I do want to do this. I most certainly do!”

  “But... surely it's not worth the consequences?” Despite her racing heart, Kitt tried to calmly talk him down. She didn't even know what he was planning, but she knew it couldn't be good. “I'm not worth the consequences.”

  “Wrong again,” Grim barked at her. When he leaned closer to her, she could smell the stench of hard alcohol on his breath. “Now... take off yer clothes.”

  “I'm not going to do that.”

  “You are.” He ran his blade along the collar of her button-down shirt. “You are, because you ain't got a choice, do you?”

  “I do have a choice, actually.” Kitt raised her chin defiantly. “I could let you kill me first.”

  “Would you rather I strip you?” Grim hissed. “I'm letting you do it yerself because I'm trying to do it gentle.”

  “Please... don't do this.” Kitt kept scanning the area, searching for a way out of her predicament. But the alley was narrow, and he was too close for her to make a run for it. If she survived the day, she made a promise to herself to start concealing a dagger under her clothes. “I don't think you've given this a great deal of thought.�
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  “Oh, I have alright. I've been thinking about how nice and perky your breasts must be.” Grim licked his lips at the thought. “Now... off with them clothes! You don't want to make me wait. I'm not happy when I have to--”

  Before he could finish his thought, a blood-stained blade suddenly appeared in the center of his chest. Someone was standing behind Grim, and they had run him through.

  “Farewell, Shitheel,” a menacing voice whispered. There was an awful squelching noise as Kitt's rescuer yanked his blade from Grim's body. Grim, who was hissing his last breaths, dropped to his knees. When he fell, he was promptly kicked aside by Francis Doon, who stepped forward and offered a hand to Kitt. “Are you alright?”

  “I... well... I... yes. I think so.” Her first instinct was to back away from him, but she was frozen. He had come to her rescue twice now, and for that, she was grateful. But he had just killed a man in front of her. Even if he didn't have the reputation of a seasoned criminal, she might have been afraid of him.

  Doon nonchalantly whipped a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat and used it to swab the blood from his blade. As he studied the cloth's stain, he was momentarily awed. Satisfied, he lowered his saber and held out his hand again. “Let's go then, Princess. Shall we?”

  “Princess?” Kitt's nose wrinkled as she repeated the word. She wondered if it was supposed to be a nickname, or some snide term of endearment. Either way, it didn't suit her.

  “Yes, Your Highness. The short hair is a terribly insufficient disguise.” Suddenly, the pirate threw an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm taking you home. Don't struggle.”

  4

  “I think you're mistaking me for someone else!” Kitt laid her hands against his chest and pushed with all her strength, but his grip was too tight. “Now... if you would kindly unhand me, I would very much appreciate it!”

  “Did you really think you'd trick me with a terrible haircut... and by dressing like a pauper?” He gently tapped the flat of his sword against her head. “For god's sake, girl, where are your shoes?”

  “Terrible haircut?” Kitt's fingers flicked through her short, feathered locks. “Just because my hair is short, that doesn't make it terrible!”

  “It looks like you sheared it off with a blunt blade. Of course it's terrible. Now, Princess, if you would kindly hold your tongue, I--”

  “Are you even listening to me? I'm not a princess!” she interrupted shrilly. “You're kidnapping the wrong person!”

  “Kidnapping, my dear? Nonsense. I'm rescuing you.” He suddenly threw a cloak over her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. “Keep your head down as we make our way through the pub. We don't want to call attention to ourselves.”

  “We don't? Maybe you don't, but I think I do! I don't have to go anywhere with you, so why don't you...” Before she could utter another word, the point of his sword was resting on the tip of her chin.

  “You needn't make this complicated, Your Highness. I'd rather not escort you all the way to my ship with a knife pointed at your back, but if you keep behaving like this, I will.”

  “I'm not going!”

  “Yes, actually, you are!” The tip of his blade carefully slid along the entire length of her throat. He wanted to intimidate her without drawing blood.

  “You wouldn't actually hurt me.”

  “If you think that, you clearly have no idea what sort of man I am.” Doon suddenly seized her shoulder and shoved her forward. “Now, if you would, please move your filthy feet in the direction of the pub.”

  Doon was right: she didn't really know what he was capable of. What if she struggled too much and ended up skewered on the end of his sword? According to Tobias, the pirate had no qualms about killing women, or even children. Fearful of the unknown, Kitt kept her head down and did as she was told. Her captor escorted her through the pub and onto the busy street outside.

  “We're heading to the skyport,” he casually informed her. “Keep walking.” He felt her trying to pull away from him, but Doon reacted quickly. He not only tightened his grip on her, he lifted her off her feet.

  “Hey!” Kitt screamed when he threw her over his shoulder. “Hey!”

  “Keep silent, Princess. I wouldn't want to have to knock you over your pretty head or shove a gag in your mouth.”

  “Help!” She only shouted the word once, because she didn't want to try the patience of her captor. To her surprise, no one so much as glanced in their direction. There was so much noise, her voice was lost in the cacophony. Or maybe no one cared?

  “Really, Princess, do hush up! You're going home! How bad can that be? Ah, there's Bryce.” Doon ducked down an empty street and handed her off to a hulk of a man with impossibly hairy arms. If she never saw his face, Kitt might have mistaken his arms for an ape's.

  “Let go of me!” Now that Bryce was holding her, she squealed and thrashed like a seized swine. “For goodness sake, don't touch me there!”

  “Do be mindful of the lady's bum, Bryce,” Doon cooed. “That's a princess you're holding in your arms.”

  “Sowwy,” the man named Bryce mumbled, then he slid his meaty hand to Kitt's back.

  “I'm not a princess!” Kitt attempted to plead her case again. “I'm just a barmaid who works at Lucky's! You have the wrong person, I swear!”

  “Nice try, Your Highness. You're putting on quite a performance. I'm impressed. Truly.” Doon leaned toward her face, which was hanging behind Bryce's shoulder, and he whispered, “I'm not buying it.”

  “Quit yer yammering!” Bryce bellowed, and suddenly she was hit in the side of the head with the blunt end of the barbarian's blade, which was the last thing Kitt remembered.

  * * *

  Some time later, when Kitt regained consciousness, she was facedown on a plush red sofa. With a heavy sigh, she rolled on her back and examined the room she was in. There was a four-poster bed, on which a skull and crossbones was brazenly on display. The bed's black blanket was essentially a giant Jolly Roger. In contrast, there was a very feminine-looking vanity on the other side of the room. Kitt wondered if it was a room meant for a princess, since that was apparently who they thought she was.

  Gripping her throbbing head, Kitt rose from the sofa and staggered to the door. She gave the doorknob a tremendous yank, and wasn't too surprised to discover it was locked.

  “Hey!” She banged on the door as hard as she could, then kicked it. “Hey! Is there anyone out there? Let me out of here!”

  Not thirty seconds later, the door flew open. Doon was standing in the doorway with a cigarette pinched between two fingers. He was studying her with a crooked smile on his lips. It was a cocky smile, one that tempted her to box the expression from his face.

  “Sorry, love,” Doon said as he motioned toward her bloody head. “Bryce wasn't supposed to hit you. I made it very clear that he wasn't supposed to hit you. I can promise you... he'll be dealt with for that.”

  “My kidnapper is concerned for me?” Kitt tilted her head and smiled sarcastically. “How cute.”

  “No, actually, I don't give a shit.” He took a drag from his cigarette before he put it out on the door and flicked the remains into the hallway, over his shoulder. “But you're a princess, and if it can be avoided, I don't want to give you a concussion.”

  “I'm not a princess!” she shrilled.

  Doon chuckled at her protest. “Right. And I'm not a pirate.”

  “Oh, so you are a pirate! I thought you were supposed to be a privateer. I thought you were supposed to be one of the good guys now, working for the royal family and all that.”

  “Did you see the bed, love? The big fuzzy blanket with the huge Jolly Roger on it? The big, black skull and crossbones? In case you missed it, let me be clear for you: once a pirate, always a pirate.” He grinned at her. “If I agree to do the odd job for the royal family, so be it. And if you really think that working for them would make me one of the good guys, you are very much mistaken.”
>
  Kitt took a few steps backward, putting a more comfortable distance between them. “So... the royal family works with pirates?”

  “The queen knows an opportunity when she sees it. After all, who can get the job done better than a pirate, right? No one.” Doon took a few steps toward her, towering over her with his height. Kitt was trying to sound unafraid, but she was certainly intimidated. “Besides,” he went on, “working for royalty has its perks. My ship's now outfitted with some of the best equipment. Not like you care.”

  “You're right,” Kitt agreed with a sneer. “I don't care.”

  “Well, we'll be taking off soon, so you probably should care. You wouldn't want the ship to crash to the ground, right?”

  “We're on an airship right now?”

  Doon suddenly doubled over with laughter. “Of course! Where did you think we were? A hat shop? A salon? Or maybe a cozy tea shop where we can get some biscuits and some crumbly treacle tart?”

  “If I was actually a princess, I might have thought that.”

  “You have such a low opinion of your fellow princesses.” Doon strutted around the room with his hand on the hilt of his blade. “How long will you persist with this lie?”

  Kitt's eyes narrowed as she watched him stalk around the bedroom. “Forever. Because I'm not lying! I'm really not the princess you're looking for.”

  “So you just happen to be a commoner who looks identical to the princess?” Doon shook his head and chuckled. “Terrible haircut aside, of course.”

  “Will you please stop insulting me?”

  “It's not an insult. It's honesty. And if I'm going to take you back to your parents, you're going to need to look considerably less like a boy.” Doon suddenly threw open the door of a large oaken wardrobe. There were several dresses inside, bursting with frills and trimmed in lace. All of them were fit for a princess, and all of them were like nothing Kitt had ever owned. “So I'll need you to change into one of these dresses.”