Captain and a Corset (4 page)

BOOK: Captain and a Corset
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With a savage jerk, she twisted her wrist, angling to break his grip at the weakest spot, as she’d learn in her Asian fighting classes. He straightened instantly, his larger body adopting a polished fighting stance to prove he knew far more about the Eastern arts than she did. Something lit his eyes, but she shied away from taking a closer look at it. A warning rose up from her mind, telling her to beware of learning more about this side of his nature. Or her reaction to it.

She hurried around him, brushing past a startled Janette and slamming shut the bathroom door, betraying just how unsettled she was. What horrified her most was the way she collapsed onto the closed lid of the toilet, her legs trembling too much to support her. She shook her head, hugging her wrist to her chest. She could not—would not—be affected by him so deeply.

***

The grand hall of the Solitary Chamber was impressive. Its ceiling rose a full two stories and was constructed with elegant arches. The molding would have put Buckingham Palace to shame with its intricate details. The center was carpeted with thick, burgundy carpet. The windows stretched up to the ceiling, with foot-wide panes of glass and velvet curtains edged with tassels framing them. The cost in velvet was enough to make her tailor’s brain reel, but when Sophia added in the pressed chenille wallpaper, the opulence was astounding.

But she couldn’t enjoy the moment. Instead of taking the time to appreciate all the detail of the inner sanctum of the Solitary Chamber, Sophia had to battle to maintain her self-control. At the end of the hall, standing near the raised portion of the floor, were three Marshals, or judges. The scales of justice graced their Illuminist pins, whereas Bion’s had a compass denoting his career path among the air fleet. Guardian Lawley was waiting as well, his pin displaying crossed swords to proclaim his position as a constable.

For all appearances, they looked like men she had lived among her entire life. They were dressed in wool trousers with pin-tucked shirts and cravats worn over vests with watch pockets and jackets constructed of tweed.

After all the warnings she’d endured about how unnatural the Illuminist Order was, she discovered herself agreeing with many of the ways they operated, such as allowing women to testify at a trial. It seemed quite logical; after all, she had been the one abducted.

Satisfaction warmed her, burning away her self-doubt and the last of the strange reaction she’d had to Bion. Now she was consumed by the need for justice. Grainger had been the one behind her abduction. His ruffians had grabbed her right off the street; Grainger had ripped her mother’s cameo off her neck, setting his trap in motion. He’d taken such delight in her suffering and gleefully tormented her by reiterating his plans to torture her if Janette did not arrive to do his bidding once she received Sophia’s cameo.

Oh yes, she was going to enjoy the right of an Illuminist member to testify regardless of her gender. Among the Illuminists, being female did not mean she had fewer rights. It was like something out of a little girl’s dream world, and yet, it was solid reality for those willing to pledge themselves to the secretive Order. She looked over at the man who had so easily put a bullet through her leg in his quest to harvest Deep Earth Crystals.

Grainger was still just as repulsive as she recalled.
Compatriot
Grainger, actually. Among the Helikeians, they referred to one another as Compatriots.

Sophia didn’t chastise herself for staring at the man. It was almost necessary in a way, because her life had changed so drastically the moment she had met him. Her gaze lowered to his wrists and the silver handcuffs keeping him prisoner. He’d used rope to make her just as helpless and put a burlap sack over her head before stuffing her into a pit.

The fear she’d suffered still felt too fresh. It rose up from her memory, thick and choking.

She shook it off, looking away from the man. But she ended up locking gazes with Bion. His dark eyes were too keen and, she felt, appeared as though he could read her thoughts as plainly as the morning news circular. She was clasping her hands so tightly, her fingernails dug into her palms. Janette stood nearby with her husband, Darius, at her side. He had a hand gently resting on the small of her back. It should have slightly shocked her, such an intimate touch displayed so publicly. Instead, Sophia discovered herself glad for her friend, but that same emotion only highlighted just how alone she felt.

Well, there was nothing for it. Honestly, that wasn’t something that had changed since being abducted either. She had no suitor missing her.

“This trial will be called to order.”

She looked back at the Marshals, fighting against the tide of emotions seeing Grainger was unleashing.

Later.
Yes, later she might take the time to nurse her personal hurts. For the moment, she would be strong and steady. The Marshal standing in the center lifted a gavel and pounded it onto the desk in front of him. The sound reminded her of the crack of gunpowder right before a bullet had torn through her leg, and she flinched. Grainger had been so pleased with his ability to harm her out on that lava flow. She lost the battle to not look at him again.

The man was grinning at her. The Marshal began to read the charges against him, but all the formal-sounding voice did was solicit a flicker of achievement in Grainger’s eyes, leaving no doubt that he believed completely in the Helikeian cause.

“Mr. Grainger. You stand accused of being a Helikeian and, in the service of that order, you committed the crime of abducting Miss Sophia Stevenson. Furthermore, you planned to harvest Deep Earth Crystals after forcing the compliance of Mrs. Lawley.” The Marshal peered over the edge of his spectacles at Grainger. “Do you have any defense to render to this court?”

“Of course I do,” Grainger insisted. “But you are too ignorant to understand the purity of the Helikeian Order. You accept any member, taking in the strays and lowbred. It weakens you. Soon, we will crush you and the ridiculous governments allowed to flourish like mold on the face of the Earth. The Pure Spirit Mrs. Lawley is rightfully ours. Our actions created her; it was our cunning that separated her bloodline from your Order. She belongs to us.” He suddenly shot a look at Sophia that curled her toes. “Just as you belong to us because I had a hand in your creation.”

“I do not.” Formal hearing or not, Sophia didn’t think she could have held her tongue if the queen herself were present. “Nor shall I ever.”

Grainger’s eyes brightened with anticipation. “You will.”

Icy dread tingled up the nape of her neck. It spread quickly, traveling across her skin and leaving her fighting the urge to tremble—she would not. Not here, not while Bion watched.

“Enough!” The Marshal pounded the gavel again.

“It is not enough!” Grainger snarled. “Only after we have reduced you to rubble will it be enough! You do not hold any power over me! I will prevail. I am superior to you, my very blood more pure!”

“Remove the accused!” the Marshal ordered.

“With pleasure,” Bion bit out. It wasn’t his place or his duty, but no one stopped him from gripping Grainger’s arm and pulling him around to face the back of the hall.

Grainger surprised them all by laughing. It was a high-pitched sound that hinted at lunacy. Bion towered over him, but Grainger drew himself up like a nobleman being propositioned by a street whore.

“Remove your inferior hands from my person! I come from a pure bloodline that has served the Helikeian Order for hundreds of years. No one here is my equal. We shall prevail!”

Bion dragged Grainger from the hall and the Marshal shook his head. The Guardians positioned at the back of the hall snapped into action and took Grainger through the doors.

“The man is insane,” the Marshal announced. “Quite out of his mind I’d say.”

“He was in his right mind well enough when he held a gun on my wife and forced her to harvest Deep Earth Crystals.” Darius Lawley spoke up. “He should be shot for treason or attempted murder at the least.”

The Marshal stared back at him with a bland expression. “We are not savages. We do not execute the mentally unstable. We shall leave barbaric behavior to the unenlightened beyond our Order and the Helikeians. Judgment will be suspended until a physician declares the accused able of facing the accusations lodged against him.”

The Marshal lifted his gavel and pounded it against the desk twice. The sound was piercing, ripping a hole in Sophia’s peace of mind. “But… what does that mean?”

“It means we’ll have the privilege of keeping Grainger under lock and key while his comrades enjoy the fact that he is still among the living in spite of his crimes,” Bion muttered from across the hall.

“This is not an airship, Captain Donkova,” the Marshal admonished. “Justice does not need to be so black and white here. Unlike the close confines of an airship, we have the facilities to care for the criminally insane.”

Bion closed the distance between them, his stride determined. “So we will waste resources on curing the man before we condemn him?” Bion’s tone left no doubt that he wasn’t really asking a question. It was dry and condescending, earning him a dark look from the Marshal.

“We shall conduct ourselves as civilized men, ones who do not seek vengeance, but instead focus on maintaining justice.”

The Marshal struck the desk again, harder and sharper this time. All three stood and exited the hall. The level of intensity went with them, leaving Sophia feeling disappointed. She turned and left, her emotions swirling in a turbulent cyclone.

Did she want Grainger dead? She honestly didn’t know. Part of her was relieved to not have to lend her testimony toward condemning a man. But that left her wondering if she was a coward, one of the many who demand justice but are unwilling to stand up and face those they wanted punished.

One thing was certain and that was that she avoided making eye contact with Bion Donkova as she passed him. She could feel his dark gaze on her, but she kept her attention on the door, proving without a doubt that she was a coward.

***

“You’re on dangerously thin ice, Captain.”

Bion slowly grinned at Darius. “A place where, I assure you, I’m quite comfortable, Guardian Lawley.”

Darius chuckled softly, taking a moment to notice that his wife was heading out of the sanctum in pursuit of her friend.

“It is a facet of my personality you have already encountered.” Darius jerked his attention away from Janette’s exit and stared at Bion. “I was willing to let you and others believe me a traitor,” Bion continued. “I knew you and your team might kill me before any explanation could be rendered, so kindly spare me the lecture I see brewing in your eyes. I do not live my life on safe ground, not when there are Helikeians to expose. Our own laws allow them to infiltrate our ranks. Unmasking them will not be simple or done on safe ground.”

“We are not talking about Helikeians, but of your personal involvement with your trainee,” Darius advised. “I have treaded on that thin ice; it’s a perilous journey between duty and distraction. Miss Stevenson might well be worth the risk, but you need to be careful how many rules you challenge along the way.”

Bion shook his head. “You mistake the situation, Guardian. Miss Stevenson is my responsibility; the only distraction is her propensity to challenge my authority. I continue to hope she will mature past such behavior.”

Guardian Lawley surprised him by grinning. Bion couldn’t claim to know the man well, but what experience he did have with Lawley had been facing a man with iron control. The amusement on his face was a stark contrast to the man he’d dealt with in the Hawaiian Islands.

“Do enlighten me, Captain. Exactly when did it become standard practice to instruct Navigator Novices over the footrails of their beds with the sort of personal remarks I heard this morning?”

“There is little privacy aboard airships. Miss Stevenson is best prepared if she learns that now,” Bion remarked calmly, but heat was rising beneath his collar. Guardian Lawley merely continued to grin, making it plain he wasn’t swayed by Bion’s response—excuse, really.

Bion turned and left the sanctum. Frustration was sitting heavily on his back, the lack of satisfaction from the hearing making him edgy. Grainger deserved death. The man was a bastard of the worst sort, one without remorse or compassion for those he had injured. The man hadn’t hesitated when he’d put a bullet through Sophia’s leg and Bion was certain he would happily continue his service to the Helikeians if freedom was his once more.

Damned Helikeians. They were as old as the Illuminist Order and could trace their roots back to the ancient civilizations that had given them their foundation in knowledge. Long after the Greeks had been conquered, their devotion to science, logic, and learning was still being cultivated by the two Orders. The difference was, the Illuminists had long ago cast off prejudice. Membership was open to anyone willing to pledge themselves to the Order. That didn’t come without a cost, for society shunned anyone wearing an Illuminist pin on their person. But loyalty was the price expected to enter the world of the Illuminists.

The Helikeians had split off centuries before, when they began to favor arrogance over tolerance and power over knowledge. Now, they dreamed of conquering the world and disposing of anyone they judged inferior, “purifying the bloodlines,” as they called it. They would stop at nothing to gain the upper hand over the Illuminists.

Sophia was just a commodity in their eyes.

Bion felt the sting of that fact like a new tattoo. She was too naive to understand, too much a product of her upbringing beyond the walls of the Illuminist world. It fell to him to ensure she did not fall into Helikeian hands. If she did, it would be his duty to neutralize her, by ending her life if that was the only means available to him.

From the moment he’d been accepted as a junior cadet in the airship corps at the tender age of sixteen, his life had been dedicated to duty. Each year and rank along his path to Captain had only seen him facing deeper personal commitments. There was no reason training a Novice Navigator should test him so greatly. Or frustrate him like Sophia did.

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