Captain and a Corset (10 page)

BOOK: Captain and a Corset
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Where was she? How far away from the Solitary Chamber?
From
Bion?

She was suddenly endowed with a new appreciation for the man’s vigilance. In fact, she missed it horribly at the moment. Her belly rumbled again, and there was a soft sound from the man behind her. He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a small key. He fit it into the lock on the door and left.

Her relief was short-lived because he returned only a few moments later. She felt her mouth go dry as he set a dark bottle on a small table and gathered up a length of cloth in his hand. He kept his head back as he tipped the bottle into the cloth, then set it aside. The look in his eyes when he shifted his attention to her chilled her blood.

But she lifted her arms and curled her fingers into tight fists. She wouldn’t be any lamb waiting for the slaughter. Her skills in Asian fighting might be weak, but she was going to put them to the test.

By every drop of Irish blood she had, she would not go down without a fight.

***

“How much did you give him?”

Bion moved away from a kick delivered to his belly. He had to squelch the urge to roll all the way over and gain his feet.

“A fair amount,” Peter groused. “Look at him. He’s a big one, and I didn’t want to risk losing him. He claimed he knew how to navigate and that’s what you told me you wanted. So pay up or I’ll sell him to the dockyard.”

Bion cracked open an eye. He got a glimpse of worn boots before he looked up further to see five men looking down at him. They were all watching him, so he flashed them a bright smile.

“Where’d the pretty one go?” He sat up, remembering to let his head wobble just a little. “Nothing personal and all… but where’s the honey gone?”

“I heard you can navigate.”

Bion struggled to his feet, making a good show of being intoxicated. In truth, he only had a pounding headache. Who might have thought he’d ever find himself grateful for butter?

“I’ve been learning about it,” he declared as he swayed. “Me last captain put me to work on the bridge… he did.”

“How much did you learn?” The man asking the question was obviously the leader. The men near him kept a sharp eye on him and one hand beneath the open edges of their vests, where their pistols were hidden from the local constables, no doubt. The man in the middle peered into Bion’s eyes.

“Well now, I’m not a Navigator myself but I’ve been training them that have the gift. Just getting those amber streaks in the eyes doesn’t mean you know how to use the skill. It takes a man like me to guide ’em.” Bion slurred his speech and added a hiccup. “Now where’d the lady go?”

“She left you in my keeping.”

Bion swayed again. “ Why would she do something like that? We were going to get to know each other.”

“Because you’ll be working for me from now on.”

“Now see here,” Peter argued. “He’s not yours. You haven’t paid for him. I could get a lot for him down on the dock, what with the way he’s on his feet after all I gave him.”

“I’m buying,” the man in the center said. “But if he’s lying, I’ll toss him overboard and be back to take my money out of your hide for setting me up.”

One of the men handed over a wad of folded bills.

“See now,” Bion stammered, “what’s this business? You can’t be buying a man just like that. I’ve got me a ship, made me mark on the roster. I just came looking for a pretty girl before—”

“Now you have a new ship”—one of the men pulled out his pistol, aiming it at Bion’s heart—“and a Navigator for you to train. Unless you want to admit you were lying?”

Bion shuffled back a step only to run into Peter’s thugs. A moment later, pain split his skull as someone clubbed him from behind. There was no fending off the blackness; it jerked him away from consciousness in a blinding flash.

***

“This is a rash plan.”

“I think our good captain will agree with you—once he wakes up, that is,” Lykos whispered softly to Decima. He stroked her side with a delicate motion, chuckling when she made a disgruntled sound. In the dark alley, he pulled her closer and buried his head in her hair.

“Do remember to play the part, my dear. You are, after all, a veteran Hunter and should know how to blend in to your surroundings.”

“And you are an experienced Guardian. Do try not to sound so pleased,” Decima whispered against his neck. “It is a sure sign of a lack of professionalism.”

Lykos chuckled and pressed a kiss against her temple. He kept his gaze on Bion’s slumped form and the men doing their best to lift him, but it was a struggle. Lykos had to admit that his attention was trying to wander to the sweet opportunity attempting to wiggle out of his embrace.

“You are correct.” But Lykos tightened his embrace for a fraction of a moment before he forced himself to return to duty. “Frustratingly so.”

Decima opened her lips to argue or perhaps chastise him, but he pressed his mouth against hers, sealing whatever she’d intended to hurl at him beneath a hard kiss. It wasn’t as passionate as he would have liked, more of a declaration of his intentions once time permitted him the luxury of giving in to his impulses.

She hissed at him when he relaxed his hold, pushing against him until he released her completely. In the dingy alley she was even more stunning, despite the tattered dress she wore.

“Until later,” he offered with a slight inclination of his head.

She turned her back on him, using their duty like some fortress that would offer her protection. Some day very soon, he was going to enjoy storming her defenses.

***

Bion rolled over and landed facedown on the floor.

His elbows smarted, but it was nothing compared to the way the back of his skull felt. Cracking an eye open, he realized he’d been lying in a hammock.

“On your feet.”

Bion was happy to comply, but the man standing over him wasn’t very pleased when he ended up looking up into Bion’s furious glare. Bion rolled his shoulders and his neck popped as he stared down into the smaller man’s face. “Who clubbed me? You?”

“No.” The man swallowed roughly. “Captain Aetos wanted to see you now that we’re off the ground.”

There was a dull hissing sound and the deck beneath his feet vibrated a tiny amount. Bion knew the feel of a ship—he was more at home in the sky than on the surface of the Earth—but this was not an Illuminist ship. The air was stale because the hatches that would have allowed a breeze in were closed shut. Not far ahead, a trapdoor opened to the deck above, sunlight pouring down over the ladder leading up, out of the hold.

“This way. It isn’t wise to keep the captain waiting. He’s right fond of tossing men overboard when he doesn’t have any use for them—or those that just piss him off. He tosses those over the rail too. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Bion grinned at the crewman’s back. It was a savage expression and he didn’t bother to control it. He climbed out of the hold, sweeping the deck with a critical glance on his way to the captain’s cabin at the back of the ship. The crewman rapped on the door and pushed it open when someone hollered inside.

But the crewman stayed outside, holding the door open for Bion. There was a look in the man’s eyes that confirmed Captain Aetos was everything Bion expected of an airship pirate. He maintained order on the vessel like countless other lawless men had done through the ages, through merciless savagery.

“About time you rolled out of your rack.” Captain Aetos had just finished grooming, the scent of soap lingering in the cabin. He was inspecting his short beard in a small mirror. “I don’t suffer lazy dogs aboard the Soiled Dove.”

“Never met a captain who did.”

Aetos put the mirror down on a desk that had several charts unrolled on its top. “And I don’t care for arrogant men among my crew either.”

Bion folded his arms over his chest in response. Aetos rose, standing eye to eye with Bion. “If you have a problem with my authority, speak plainly.”

“Can’t really do that just yet, since I haven’t heard what it is you are expecting of me. Where are we bound?”

A gleam of anticipation flickered in the captain’s eyes. “You’re an opportunistic one.”

Bion inclined his head.

Aetos laughed softly. “I like that in a man.” He tapped the charts on his desktop. “Since you aren’t demanding to know what manner of vessel this is, you’ve proven yourself a man of his word. You did just get off ship and you weren’t at sea.”

“Sounds like I said a little too much.”

“Better sold to me than a whaling ship.”

Bion wasn’t willing to agree so quickly. “I like a good opportunity but not when it comes with a billy club across me skull.”

Aetos didn’t even blink. “I needed a man who could train a Navigator, and I don’t need any complications from the Illuminist authorities.” His eyes narrowed. “What captain did you sail with?”

Bion truly hated the man in that moment. For the innocent sailor caught in his net, there wouldn’t be a hope of answering the question correctly. It was clear the crew member cowering outside the cabin door had reason to fear Aetos.

“Kyros.”

Aetos grinned, the expression more victorious than pleased. “What position did you hold?”

“I was his first officer.”

The captain shifted, moving his right hand toward the butt of the pistol strapped to his hip.

“Kyros was a Helikeian and I knew it,” Bion admitted. “But I wasn’t there for any order’s benefit. I was there to get my hands on a Root Ball.” Bion stepped forward and boldly looked at the charts. “So when are you going to get around to telling me what sort of venture this is?”

“You just might have been worth what I paid for you.”

Bion looked up, locking gazes with the captain. “I look out for myself first. If you don’t like it, toss me off your ship because I won’t be changing.”

Aetos’s face darkened, but he held back his first comment. Bion didn’t move his attention away. He continued to stare at the man, making it clear that he wouldn’t be backing down. It was a risk, one that might just end with him free-falling through the clouds, but there was no way he was going to behave like the crewman cowering outside the door.

“If you get the Navigator working, I just might be able to put that Root Ball in your hands.”

“I know my craft and I don’t take anyone interfering in my methods,” Bion shot back.

“With the exception of myself, I agree.” Aetos nodded. “But no one stays on this ship without producing results.”

“In that case, you’d better introduce me to this Navigator.”

***

Someone threw water on her and Sophia jumped. The air was cool and she shivered as the cold water soaked her hair and bodice. She wiped it out of her eyes.

Someone laughed and then several others joined in. She opened her eyes and stared into the faces of the roughest lot of men she’d ever set eyes on. They were every bit as repulsive as the gossips had speculated ungentlemanly men might be. Some sported unkempt beards—a clean-scraped chin was nowhere in sight. Their clothing was mismatched, many with collars open halfway down their chests. They were clustered around her, some straining onto their toes to see over the shoulders of the ones in front of them. What chilled her further was the number of pistols stuck into belts and waistbands.

“Well now, this is a bit of finery.”

Sophia struggled to her feet to face the man addressing her. The rest of the group seemed to be waiting on him. They leered at her but looked toward him before saying anything.

“I do believe I owe you a bit of thanks, Compatriot Grainger.”

She spun around, searching for her nemesis and felt her legs protest. Several spots hurt and one ankle felt twisted. Memory rushed back, reminding her of the struggle she’d had with the burly guard. She smiled slowly, happy to know she hadn’t gone down without a fight.

“She is a prize,” Grainger informed them, but there was a note of disgust in his tone that pleased Sophia. “My prize.”

“No, Compatriot. I am captain of the Soiled Dove. If she’s my Navigator, she’s my prize and a member of my crew from here forward.”

Sophia turned to look at the captain. He was a large man, and obviously not one concerned with appearances. His dark hair was long and held back from his face. Unlike a good many of his crew, his beard was trimmed and clean. His shirt was open to his chest and the shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. The skin of his lower arms was tanned from the sun, proving that he was quite at ease half dressed.

“I am Captain Aetos,” he offered as he stepped closer and peered into her eyes. His were a brilliant shade of blue, and Sophia looked away from them.

He instantly grabbed a handful of her wet bodice and jerked her close.

“Let me see your eyes.”

Sophia sent an icy glare at him, then she very precisely peeled his hand off her using one of the techniques Bion had insisted she learn in Asian fighting class.

“You’re going to be stubborn,” the captain declared as he let her move a few paces away from him. There really was nowhere to go and a hiss from behind her drew her attention. She gasped when she turned her head. Two large exhaust pipes stuck out behind the deck she stood on. She was actually on an airship, built for carrying cargo in its holds. Hovering above the deck she was on were three rectangular balloons attached to the ship by heavy netting.

“Look your fill. You’ll have plenty of time to memorize every detail of the Soiled Dove,” Captain Aetos informed her softly to the delight of his gathered crew members. “You belong to me now.”

“She does not!” Grainger interjected, earning a scowl from the captain. “I created her—”

“Lock your jaw, Compatriot.” The captain’s voice took on the sting of a leather whip. “Keep forgetting who is captain of this vessel and I will have you tossed over the rail, no matter our altitude.”

There were a few snickers in response from the crew, proving the captain was a man of his word. There was a solid-looking railing running along the edges of the deck, but it rose only about a meter. Tossing someone over wouldn’t prove too difficult. Sophia’s throat went dry as she realized there were clouds floating past and beneath them.

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