A Captain and a Corset

by Mary Wine

  But Bion could.

  She looked at him, locking gazes, then she waved him away, motioning emphatically. Surprise flickered in his eyes, then they narrowed and he slowly shook his head. They glared at one another, neither one willing to give in until a soft step landed behind them in the stall.

  Sophia lifted her head and shuddered when she saw Mr. Graves. He had a small crate in his hands and his lips were pressed into a hard line.

  “Mr. Graves!” Aetos yelled. “Which way did my Navigators go? I hit one, so they can’t be far.”

  The market was really bustling now, people crowding its paths. Mr. Graves put the crate down and pointed away from them. “That way, Captain. Saw it plain as day.”

  “Get moving!” Aetos barked at his men. There was the sound of people cursing as they were jostled and pushed aside.

  But Mr. Graves stood still and looked down at them. “They’re gone.”

  Sophia finally drew in a breath. She hadn’t realized just how starved her lungs were for oxygen. She gulped like a freshly caught fish before mastering the urge to keep gasping. Once her need for breath was satisfied, the wound on her leg became excruciating, but she smiled.

  “You make it hard to kill you, Mr. Graves.” Bion looked through the crates to ensure that Aetos was gone before standing up to loom over their unexpected savior.

  The sailor from the Soiled Dove shrugged, suddenly looking haggard. “I’ve done a fair number of things worthy of having my neck broken,” he said, and ran a hand over his tired features. “All of them in the interest of living another day. I wasn’t but a lad when I first ran afoul of them pirates. Life seemed too dear to give up, even if honor demanded it.”

  He closed his mouth, looking resigned to his fate. For the first time, Sophia found something in the man worthy of respect.

  Bion looked like he was fighting off the urge to strike, but he finally nodded. “You’ll have to face a Marshal.”

  Mr. Graves grunted. “You’ll likely doubt me when I tell you I’m right pleased. See, I never held out much hope that I’d find my way onto land alive.”

  “That’s a new way to look at it,” Lykos offered as he appeared nearby. “I suppose I’ll have to follow my comrade’s example and decline to put a bullet through you. How very disappointing. After the chase I’ve had, I really want to shoot someone.”

  “By all means, go after Captain Aetos if it’s bloodletting you crave,” Sophia exclaimed with a big grin. “In fact, if you’d simply be so kind as to hand me that weapon—”

  “We’re getting out of here, Sophia.” Bion stooped to flip her skirt back and inspect her wound, then gently pulled her to her feet. “Even if I agree with you.”

  Sweat popped out on her brow from the pain, but she managed to stay on her feet, firmly supported by Bion.

  Lykos offered her a smirk. “Do my eyes deceive me? Is this not the second time I have discovered you bleeding from a limb?”

  “I wanted matching scars,” she shot back. For just a moment, she enjoyed watching Bion’s eyes narrow at her before she sighed. “Because once I am back in Britain, I plan to have a most normal and predictable life.”

  “Now that is something I agree with, Miss Stevenson.” It wasn’t the heartwarming admission she would have liked, but it was Bion Donkova. Her man of action, her pirate. He scooped her up and Lykos motioned them away from where Aetos had headed. He led them around the edge of a stall and back to where two horses were tied.

  “The air station is a good day’s ride,” Lykos informed them as Bion helped her into the saddle. He tore a strip from her skirt and bound her leg, then held out a hand to Lykos.

  Lykos hesitated before reaching into his vest and pulling out a small metal flask. “It’s the last of my stash.”

  Bion unscrewed the cap, sniffed the contents, then took a swig. “High quality as usual. It certainly is nice to be back to normalcy.”

  He handed the flask up to Sophia and she took a long drink. When she lowered her chin, she smiled at the two men watching her with stunned expressions.

  “Well now, don’t you know an Irish gal can handle her liquor as well as any man? Even if my father insisted I keep that little skill for the kitchen, in the interests of maintaining appearances.” She lifted the flask again because it was going to be a long ride and her leg ached. “But as an Illuminist, I won’t be needing ladylike airs, so if you pass me the whiskey, expect me to enjoy it.”

  Bion smiled, his teeth flashing at her, and all he really lacked was a gold hoop dangling from his ear.

  Lykos tossed a small purse to Bion. It jingled when he caught it. “Ride. I have to wait for Decima, but you two need to be gone immediately. We’ll see you back in London.”

  Bion froze with one foot in the stirrup.

  “Go, Captain. I can blend in. You and Miss Stevenson can’t, and I would greatly appreciate you not placing me in the position of having to shoot you both when the prince’s men surround us and we are completely outnumbered. I believe our luck is well and truly depleted.”

  “Agreed, but I do not like leaving you here.”

  “It is the best course of action with your eyes altered,” Lykos insisted.

  Bion’s expression hardened, but he mounted. Lykos slapped Sophia’s horse on the flank and the animal happily headed away from the noise of the market. But she pulled up, looking back at Lykos.

  “He’s right. We have to leave.” Bion sounded disgusted as he pulled his purple-tinted glasses out and put them on. “He’ll never leave Decima, and we’re too easy to spot.” He didn’t like it, but he nodded and jerked his head toward the road. “Let’s go home, Sophia.”

  She was sure four words had never sounded so sweet and at the same time so final. She gave the horse its freedom and soon they were leaving a trail of dust behind them. Prince Afanasi’s house diminished as they rode hard toward the air station.

  Yes, final. That was the feeling that settled over her. Like the ending of a book. The memories were grand and cheery, but reality was where one had to focus their attentions. Yes, reality—where Bion was her Illuminist partner and pirate games became something relegated to the adventures of the past. Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them away. Bion was an Illuminist. He’d promised her nothing, and she needed to remember that he’d not been raised in her world.

  You know you want more.

  Maybe, but not if it was insincere. She was suddenly grateful for her future among the Illuminists, for it would save her from a marriage of convenience. It hurt to think of Bion offering for her when he had never spoken of love. She’d rather not have him under false circumstances.

  But you love him.

  Oh, do be quiet now.

  Their adventure was over.

  ***

  Lykos wove through the market crowd with his hand tucked beneath his vest—it was comforting to feel the butt of his pistol. There was no way to see every face; there were just too many people. He searched for Decima, finally finding her.

  He reached out and hooked her arm. She tensed, snapping her head around to see who had been so bold.

  “I found Bion and Sophia—”

  Pain exploded in his skull. It was blinding and too bright to escape. His knees buckled and the last thing he saw was Decima’s green eyes filling with terror.

  ***

  Decima tightened her resolve. She fought the urge to test the rope binding her wrists again. It was tight enough to hold, and the sting of broken skin reminded her that she’d already tried to free herself. The room in the prince’s home was lavish and clean, but it was less welcoming than the filthiest prison.

  “Where are they?”

  Decima simply stared back at Captain Aetos. Two of his men were nursing injuries; one of them wouldn’t find his broken arm healing very soon.

  “Do you think I have done my worst?” the capt
ain continued. He walked in a circle around her, enjoying the sight of her nearly bare body. Her clothing was lying at her feet, shredded by the hands of his thugs. There were a few cuts in her chemise from their knives and the rope binding her hands above her head was very tight. The thin muslin undergarment floated freely but she wasn’t going to squirm over modesty.

  “Not at all,” she answered calmly. “A man of your caliber is capable of much more.”

  Aetos grinned but stopped short of touching her. Something caught his eye and he bent down to sort through her ruined clothing. Her Illuminist pin with its Deep Earth Crystal and crossed sword emblem sparkled in the afternoon sun.

  “You’re a Guardian?” Aetos asked softly. “And a female. I’ve never encountered that combination before.”

  “Makes sense to me,” one of his men spat out. “The bitch needs a lesson. Let me beat the location of those Navigators out of her.”

  “You will not gain what you seek,” Decima responded in an even tone. “I promise you that.”

  “Well, I’ve got a promise for you—”

  Aetos held up his hand and his man fell silent. He stared into Decima’s eyes for a long moment.

  “She doesn’t know—that’s why she’s so certain,” the captain shook his head. “You hit the other one too hard. The doctor tells me he doubts he’ll live.”

  “In that case, it would be such a shame to destroy the perfection of this one.”

  Decima glanced over at the newcomer. He was a large man with dark hair and eyes. He studied her from head to toe, missing not a single inch of her.

  She refused to feel exposed. She would not give into the urge because it would allow helplessness to seep past her defenses.

  “I have never seen a female Guardian either.”

  Aetos shrugged. “She can’t be any harder to break than any other woman.”

  “As I noticed, Captain Aetos, you fail to approach life as an admirer.” The newcomer walked around Decima. “And you have not yet presented me with my gift. Did you tie her up for me? Excellent. I concede that a female Guardian is in fact the rarest of the rare. Adding her to my collection will be an extreme pleasure.”

  “If she’ll satisfy our bargain, she’s yours.”

  Decima lost some of her control over her emotions as the men shook hands. It shouldn’t surprise her that men such as these would trade her like a commodity, and yet, her emotions came dangerously close to becoming involved. Aetos tossed her Illuminist pin to the other man and left the room, his men following.

  “I am Jordon Camden.” He slipped her pin into his pocket. When he locked gazes with her again, a flicker of challenge lit his dark eyes. “And you will be my pet.”

  His tone rung with certainty. Her belly tightened just a fraction before she controlled the response. She would give him nothing.

  No matter what.

  ***

  “They cannot be far behind us,” Bion insisted. But the captain of the Scarlet Dawn shook his head.

  “You know the regulations, Captain Donkova. I must ensure your safety before all other concerns. I have already pushed the limits by waiting for two hours.”

  Bion leaned over the rail of the bridge, a pair of binoculars in his grip. The warning bell rang as the Scarlet Dawn made ready to leave the station. The escalator the captain had allowed to remain connected was retracted by large gears powered by steam. The sounds of metal meeting metal echoed through the bridge as the bell rang again and a crewman’s voice came over the intercom.

  “Ready to make sail, Captain!”

  “Ten knots, Mr. Tailsman,” the captain ordered in a smooth voice.

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The engines hissed as steam billowed out of the twin smokestacks at the rear of the vessel, after they turned the turbines inside the engines. The airship accelerated smoothly, gaining altitude as the sun set. As much as Bion wanted to delay their departure, he couldn’t ignore how delighted he was to feel the movement of the ship beneath his feet. It was like being home.

  “I am sure the doctor has your companion patched up.”

  Bion bristled at the captain’s words but had to concede defeat as far as Lykos and Decima were concerned. He didn’t like leaving them behind, but the knowledge that Sophia was secure eased his mind. No man had it all, but at the moment, he felt richer than a king. He wove through the passageways, descending three flights of stairs until he found the medical facility.

  It was a small cabin, like all those aboard the vessel. The Scarlet Dawn wasn’t a passenger liner. She was built for cargo, precious cargo such as Deep Earth Crystals, and was constructed for maximum speed.

  The doctor looked up as Bion entered and pointed to the narrow bunk Sophia lay on. Her eyes were closed, dark rings beneath them. But her chest rose and fell in a steady motion, and after a moment of assuring himself that she was finally safe, he felt fatigue ripping into him. He took off his protective glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to remove the sting, but it only increased.

  “You should join her,” the doctor suggested as he handed Bion a clean compress. “Your eyes are in a delicate state.”

  Normally, he would have argued with anyone using the word “delicate” to describe him, but he simply didn’t have the strength. For once, it didn’t matter. Sophia was secure. That was all that mattered.

  ***

  “That one is going to die.” The Russian doctor pointed an elderly woman toward a cot near the door of his clinic. The man’s blond hair was stained with blood and his face was very pale. She motioned her companions forward, and they soon had him on the stretcher they had brought with them. They took him to a wagon and then on to the church at the end of town.

  The woman sat down next to the bed they placed him in to wait for his death. It was a shame; he was a young, handsome man. It was her duty to pray for his soul, but she rose and brought back a basin of water. She wrung out a cloth and used it to clean the blood from the gash in his scalp.

  “Why are you stitching him? The doctor said he would die,” a younger woman said from her position next to an old woman who was drawing rattling breaths.

  “It is good to practice and better to do so on those that will not live.”

  When she was finished, she stuck her needle back into the little book hanging from her belt. It was lined with a piece of felt wool to keep her needles from rusting. As the night hours passed, the man grew restless. She was tempted to use some of their painkillers to ease his thrashing, but it would have been a waste of resources. Her duty was to pray for him and tell the brothers of the religious order when he was ready to be buried. The prince provided a meager allotment to their order for their service to the dying who had no families to see to them. The doctor had more important things to do than care for those who were already lost.

  So she gave him water, hoping it might ease his way into the next life. But when he was still drawing breath at sunrise, she gave him some of the weak broth the kitchen kept on hand for those in the next building who were expected to live. It had been a long time since one of her charges survived. If anyone might, it would be this man. There was something about him, something she sensed.

  But the odds were not in his favor.

  ***

  London.

  “You’re enjoying this too much.”

  Bion raised an eyebrow innocently. Sophia glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. He laughed at her, then adjusted the pillow beneath her leg. The bullet had hit the bone this time, leaving her with a lengthy recovery time.

  “And you are not enjoying it enough, dear Miss Stevenson.” He pressed a hand to the center of his chest. “My confidence in my nursing abilities is being cut to ribbons by your disgruntled looks.”

  “I doubt it.”

  He abandoned his innocent look and smiled at her, a slow twisting of his lips that betrayed
just how much he was enjoying himself.

  “Don’t doubt it.” He flattened his hands on either side of her. “I take a great deal of satisfaction in knowing exactly where you are and that you are in my bed.”

  She poked him in the middle of his chest. “You shouldn’t talk like that. It’s indecent.”

  And you like it a lot, missy.

  But she really couldn’t afford to. Her heart was already aching. She looked away because his gaze was just as keen as ever. It would be very un-Illuminist of her to inflict her emotions on him.

  “It’s honesty—a trait you’ll just have to grow accustomed to.” He cupped her chin and brought her attention back to his face. “Because I promise you, Sophia, I consider you my prize and like any self-respecting pirate, I intend to keep you secure.”

  “But—”

  He sealed her protest with a kiss. It was hard and insistent, stirring her passion, but she winced when she moved her leg out of instinct.

  Bion grumbled as he straightened up. “I suppose I will have to curtail my roguish ways until you heal.”

  “You know, I labeled you a pirate as an insult.”

  He laid his arm across his middle and bowed formally. “Yet a man of action makes the most of every situation.”

  She laughed, unable to resist his charm.

  “Now I am wounded,” he announced.

  “Why?”

  “Because you look surprised to hear me teasing you.” His mocking attitude changed instantly. For a long moment, he watched her through the lenses of his glasses. But he turned back to the dressing mirror and finished buttoning his uniform coat. Every button gleamed from polishing, just like his boots and badge. He was every bit the captain, confirming their return to reality. She felt the tension in the room increasing until she found herself bracing for the moment it snapped.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  Bion returned to her bedside, taking a moment to stroke her cheeks. “Thank you for making sure I got the use of that Root Ball.” The words sounded as if they were torn from his soul, but he didn’t appear miserable. “That concludes our unfinished business.”