Free Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2) by Karen Kincy

which no longer hid his pale skin or the lean angles of his body.
    “Do the belt and trousers count as two?” Wendel said. “Or do the drawers go?”
    “Let’s stop at that,” Ardis said.
    Konstantin’s face reddened to the roots of his hair, and he looked everywhere but Wendel. Ardis couldn’t blame Konstantin, considering their history. Wendel had kissed Konstantin, picked his pockets, and destroyed their work together on Project Lazarus. Flying to Prussia was Wendel’s last shot to redeem himself.
    Himmel looked Wendel over from head to toe, then shoved his chair from the table.
    “Strip,” Wendel said, slurring just a little. “Nudity loves company.”
    Himmel did as he was told. Jacket, overshirt, undershirt, and a single sock. Ardis caught herself staring at Himmel’s surprisingly muscled chest. Finally, Himmel took his captain’s hat and dropped it on Konstantin’s head.
    “You folded, Falkenrath,” Himmel said.
    “What? Pardon?” Konstantin stammered. “Oh, yes, I suppose I did.”
    Konstantin fumbled with his boots. The captain’s hat almost teetered from his head, but Himmel straightened it for him.
    “Hand me the schnapps,” Wendel said.
    “How many shots have you had?” Ardis said. “Four?”
    “Yes. This will be my fifth.”
    “Impressive.”
    “Trust me,” Himmel said, “don’t underestimate schnapps.”
    “I can hold my liquor,” Wendel scoffed.
    Himmel shrugged. “You might win the vomiting match later.”
    Konstantin laughed and clapped his hands. He seemed to have a perpetual blush at this point. Wendel poured himself a fifth shot and sprawled back on the couch with a sloppy grin. Ardis leaned across the table and tugged the bottle of schnapps from Wendel’s hands. He frowned and tilted his head.
    “Do you always drink this much?” Ardis said.
    “Don’t you drink to get drunk?” Wendel laughed. “Heaven forbid I go to Prussia sober.”
    With that, he downed the schnapps.
    Himmel started shuffling the cards. “Another round?”
    “I’m in,” Konstantin said. “I feel lucky.”
    Himmel winked at Konstantin, whose blush went from red to volcanic. Ardis squinted at the two of them. Perhaps Himmel knew Konstantin preferred gentlemen. Was the archmage too oblivious to notice any flirtation?
    “To tell you the truth,” Wendel said, “I hate Prussia.”
    “Oh?” Himmel said, who seemed the most sober.
    Wendel leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “I would have been a prince, and I never even liked Prussia. We lived too far north. Too damn cold.” He snorted. “Who knows? Maybe the wind and the snow won’t bother me now. I don’t feel cold much anymore, after the whole returning from the dead thing.”
    Himmel stared at him. “Excuse me?”
    “You know, when Thorsten stabbed me in the heart and threw me from a tower.” Wendel pantomimed something tiny falling from the table to the floor. “Plenty of sharp rocks below, too. Must have been quite a crunch.”
    Ardis’s stomach writhed with anxiety, and the alcohol wasn’t helping.
    “Christ.” Himmel let out a bark of a laugh. “You have a sick sense of humor.”
    Wendel pretended to gasp. “What? Didn’t the archmage tell you?” He pointed at Konstantin. “Shame on you, keeping this handsome captain in the dark. You should have told him he has a dead man on his zeppelin.”
    All the blood drained from Konstantin’s face.
    “Wendel,” he said, “I didn’t know—”
    “Nobody told you?” Wendel sneered. “How tragic. You so touchingly hunted me down, but you never heard the truth.”
    Ardis felt like she might be sick. Acid climbed in her throat.
    “Excuse me,” she said.
    Ardis stumbled out of the captain’s cabin and strode down the hallway. She spotted a bathroom and shoved her way inside. The moment after she clicked the lock shut, she dropped to her knees and bent over the toilet.
    Saliva rushed into her mouth. She gagged, but nothing came up.
    Plenty of sharp rocks below, too.