Captain and a Corset (8 page)

BOOK: Captain and a Corset
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“She doesn’t need you at the moment, Captain,” Darius Lawley said over the rim of his brandy glass.

“Well, I might argue that point,” Lykos Claxton interjected with a cocky smirk.

“But you won’t,” Darius countered.

Lykos frowned. “You’re no fun at all since you married.” He leaned forward and pushed the brandy glass Bion had left untouched closer to him. “Go on, I’m curious what you might do if you loosened up a bit.”

“How is it you are still among the living?” Bion growled.

Darius chuckled and offered Bion a toast. “It seems we have something in common, Captain. We both fail to understand Guardian Lykos’s propensity to agitate us.”

“I am neither married nor hypnotized by someone I am unwilling to admit my attraction to, which leaves me the pleasure of watching the pair of you,” Lykos announced dramatically.

“I am so pleased to hear that,” Decima purred softly.

Lykos stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at her. “Taking brandy with the men tonight, Guardian? I might claim to be surprised, but then again, I am well aware of your everlasting struggle to ignore your gender and ensure we notice your efforts.”

Decima softened her expression, becoming a radiant vision. She relaxed her formal posture and became alluring in an instant. With a delicate hand, she reached for the brandy snifter sitting in front of Lykos, but she didn’t pick it up. Instead, she traced the rim of it with the tip of one slim finger.

“I would never be so predictable, Guardian Claxton.”

She turned and left, but Lykos’s gaze was fixed on her departing figure.

“Not mesmerized my ass,” Darius muttered, gaining a soft, menacing chuckle from Bion. Darius lifted his brandy in a silent toast to the captain.

Bion surprised them by sitting down and reaching for the crystal decanter sitting in the middle of the table. “Being on land has some advantages,” he said as he poured a measure of the strong beverage into a snifter. “I can never indulge myself when aboard ship.”

It wasn’t a duty he lamented, even if part of him was amused by the idea of acting like a pirate. The men around him were ones dedicated to duty. It was not an easy road, but the truest rewards came from achieving what many found too demanding. He lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled. No, he didn’t regret anything. Not even stealing that kiss from Sophia Stevenson. That had been his pleasure.

And hers too.

For a moment he allowed himself to recall the way she’d kissed him. Tentatively, but she’d still responded with far more passion than he’d expected. That was the detail he really needed to forget. He took another sip of the brandy and then another as he tried to let the strong beverage erase the memory of just how well her body fit against his.

Instead, all the brandy did was strip aside his reasons for not seeking her out.

So he lifted his glass toward Lykos, smiling when the man filled it again. He’d never been a slave to drinking, but for the moment, the snifter was keeping him in his chair.

It felt like a monumental achievement.

***

“Come, my friend, we have a fine carriage for you.”

Grainger cocked his head to one side and looked at the orderlies. They had on white coats and were smiling at him. The wheelchair was a wide one but what alarmed him were the thick leather straps secured to each armrest and on the footrest too. He smiled at them and clapped his hands together.

“He’s a cheery one,” one of the men said.

“Aye, lucky for him too, since I heard he was going to face execution for his crimes,” the other remarked. “I suppose the fear was too much for the bloke.”

Grainger hopped in a small circle, needing a moment to hide his expression. He did not fear an Illuminist. But like any beasts of burden, he had to outsmart them when he was surrounded.

“Come on… we’re going on a little walkabout,” the orderly cooed.

Grainger clapped again and hopped toward the chair. It shimmied as he climbed into it and clapped some more.

“All right then, let’s go.”

“Shouldn’t I secure him?”

The orderly behind the chair began pushing it. “Don’t bother. He’s harmless. He might have survived that knock on the head, but it left him simple. It’s in his file from Hawaii too. The man hasn’t made sense since he opened his eyes. If you ask me, they should have just left him there, where it was warm enough for him to run about half clothed.”

Grainger didn’t have to fake his smile. It was bright and full of victory but the two fools so easily assisting him out of the prison area were clueless. They wouldn’t last a day as Helikeians. Failure wasn’t tolerated among his elite Order. In fact, any member who proved inferior would be eliminated so that his blood could not be passed on.

There were guards at the end of the hallway, where a large arch went from one side of the hallway to the other. Inside it were Deep Earth Crystals, and one of the guards depressed his ear control device to complete the current so that the orderlies might proceed through. Grainger hummed and moved his head from side to side as they left the prison wing behind them.

“Must be nice to be so cheerful,” the orderly pushing the chair remarked.

“I’ll be right happy if he continues to do what we ask without giving us fits like some of the other patients,” his companion responded.

Grainger continued to smile, enjoying the feeling of impending freedom. He clapped his hands, almost giddy with the knowledge that he wasn’t strapped to the chair.

Such trusting fools. He was going to enjoy killing them.

***

Sophia punched her pillow, but the action didn’t relieve much of her frustration. She was so tired her head ached, and yet she couldn’t seem to sleep for more than half an hour without waking.

You’re just waiting on that man’s next visit.

She grumbled and sat up. The bedding was kicked to the foot of the bed, so it was simple to swing her legs over the edge. The floor was cool against her bare feet when she suddenly realized there was something in the air. Looking through the open bedroom door, she stared at the darkness of the other room, trying to decide what it was she saw. It was like fog, only composed of light rather than moisture. She stepped toward it, drawn forward in fascination. She could see the residue of light drifting through the darkness; she could actually see the particles as tiny pinpoints of light. The room was dark, and yet, it wasn’t. It was as though she could see all the layers that made up the darkness.

“You see the light flow now… excellent.”

Sophia froze, her muscles tightening as alarm raced through her. She recognized the voice; she still heard it in her nightmares. Worse still was the certain knowledge that Grainger was standing in the corner of her room.

“What a trophy you shall be,” he cooed like he might over a newly acquired racehorse. “My crowning achievement.”

He was more than a shadow now. She could see him disturbing the flow of light. Fear gripped her, but rather than paralyzing her, it sent her into motion. She lifted her knee and sent her foot toward his jaw. There was a snap and the solid connection of flesh against flesh.

“Get out!” She struggled to move away from the bed so that she might have more room to defend herself, but Grainger wasn’t a Novice when it came to fighting arts. He pressed forward, rubbing his jaw. So she jumped up onto the bed and walked right across its soft surface.

“I mean it, get out!” She didn’t wait for him but instead made a dash for the door. Grainger caught her in the outer room, locking his arms around her body like a trap. She struggled, filling her lungs to scream, but he clamped a hand over her mouth.

She cupped her fist in one hand and twisted her entire body to send her elbow back into her captor. He howled and his hold broke, but she’d made it only two paces before she tripped over something lying on the floor. Horror gagged her as she realized it was a man. She floundered as she tried to regain her footing but gasped when something looped around her neck and jerked her back. It was a brutal hold that kept her from filling her lungs. They burned as Grainger snickered next to her ear. The last thing she saw was the bodies of the two men who normally guarded the entrance to the secured wing. Blood coated the side of one of their faces and both were as still as death. One had been stripped of his suit and lay naked on the carpet. Seeing a nude male wasn’t what horrified her. What crushed her composure at last was the fact that she could not dislodge whatever he was holding her with, and the certain knowledge that he had what he needed to walk out without being noticed. Her vision began to darken and she slumped forward, no longer able to fight.

Grainger maintained his hold a little longer, just to make sure she wasn’t employing a new tactic in her struggle. When he released the dressing robe tie, she fell over and lay still on the floor. He made sure she was still breathing, smiling when her chest lifted. But he cursed because his jaw was aching. He grabbed her wrist and hoisted her up and over his shoulder. The wheelchair was just inside the doorway and he dumped her into it. He froze for a moment, the sight of her bare legs making him pause. He turned and went toward the small wardrobe standing in the bedroom. He opened the curtains just a few inches to allow some moonlight in. He yanked a skirt off its hanger and grabbed a coat as well. He had no idea if they matched and didn’t much care.

Victory was so close he could taste it. He dropped the skirt over her head and lifted her body up so it would fall down to her waist. He ended up pulling each of her arms free but the garment settled into place well enough. She was light enough that the task didn’t prove too difficult and soon the coat was buttoned in place over her corset and chemise. He smiled as he buckled the leather straps, securing her wrists and ankles to the chair. He would not be the one feeling their bite. No, he was far too intelligent for that.

Grainger straightened his vest and made sure the small ear device was nestled in place before he opened the door and pushed the wheelchair out into the hallway. It was well after midnight and the other Novices were all asleep. He walked right through the gate, the lack of guards still undiscovered.

Yes, victory was his, and it was every bit as sweet as he’d anticipated it would be.

***

“You hold your brandy well,” Lykos remarked as he sat down at the small table Bion lingered at. The rest of the dining hall was only half full now.

“Why so disappointed?” Bion asked as he contemplated finding his bed, then discarded the idea because it would entail moving—something he was loathe to do at the moment. It would be far too tempting to walk toward Sophia’s room rather than his own. “Hoping to win a few rounds of cards?”

Lykos shrugged. “Or learn a few interesting things when your lips loosened.”

Bion finished off the last of the brandy in his snifter. “My mother often put more than this snifter holds in the supper stew. She used to say it kept the blood flowing. Russia is not as warm as Britain.”

“I forgot you hailed from the frozen expanses. It explains your fascination with living among the clouds.”

Bion grinned. “You have me correctly figured on that account, Guardian.”

“But only that account?” Lykos inquired. “Is that what your tone is meant to imply?”

Bion nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Forgive me, Guardian, but I find myself more comfortable knowing you cannot deduce every detail of my personality.”

“Some Guardians might accuse you of having dark secrets since you want to guard them so carefully.”

“And my mother would have labeled you as nosy as the old matchmaker in the village we lived in.”

Lykos lifted his snifter and inhaled the scent of the liquor before answering. “Nosy… yes, but it keeps me alive.”

“My secrets serve me the same way,” Bion responded. “It’s best to be unpredictable with the number of pirates roaming the skies. Any traitor sailing with me will discover it difficult to plan my downfall.”

Airships were only as secure as their crews. Since it was much faster to transport Deep Earth Crystals via airship, piracy had become a serious threat. It was another reason the society around them had so little information about the struggle being fought between the Illuminists and Helikeian Orders. Much of it was happening far above their heads.

This was the reason Grainger was so desperate to get his hands on Sophia. With only two ways to produce a Navigator, they were very rare. Sophia had no idea how many coveted her situation.

Misfortune actually.

Bion’s Novice Navigator was neither accomplished nor content with her new skills. He’d never thought to pity anyone who beat the odds and gained the opportunity to hold a Root Ball in their hands. Everything she was experiencing, he’d spent the majority of his life in pursuit of. He stiffened, remembering that he hadn’t had to cut himself off from his family as Sophia did. Joining the after-dinner brandy party had only been an excuse to get a closer look at Darius Lawley and learn the secret to his new bride’s contentment. Janette Aston was happily wearing her Illuminist pin, and Bion wanted to know why.

His lips twitched slightly with amusement and Lykos raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “I was simply contemplating just what my trainee might think of my fascination with discovering the secret of Mrs. Lawley’s conversion to our Order.”

Lykos slowly smiled. “My patience is rewarded at last.” He sat up, abandoning his lazy sprawl. “That statement unmasks you, Captain.”

“I doubt it.”

Lykos shook his head. “Don’t. Without a doubt, there is more to your relationship with your trainee. No man who has devoted so much of his time toward the goal of becoming what she is would entertain any thought about her happiness. Not unless he was thinking with his tender feelings.”

“My tender feelings are far harder than you might realize,” Bion informed him. “I was raised in an unforgiving land and the harsher conditions of the air fleet suit me well. I have no use for those who whine about the unjustness of circumstances. Miss Stevenson has been granted a gift. A very rare one, even if it is also a challenge.”

“You rather enjoy watching someone such as Miss Stevenson rising above what fate has tried to crush her with, don’t you?”

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