Burning Up

the protesting men whose drinks sloshed wildly in her wake—though she noted they were amused rather than afraid.
    That would do, too.
    She spotted Eben at the bar, and her heart clenched. He sat alone with his shoulders slumped, his expression desolate. He held a small glass loosely in his hand. When he lifted it toward his lips, Ivy raised her gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
    The glass exploded. The deafening crack of the revolver faded to silence. Even the song died, which hadn’t been played by broken automatons, Ivy realized—just very bad musicians. She found herself facing a roomful of pistols, but she only had eyes for the one in Eben’s hand. It pointed straight back at her.
    His face whitened. A glass shard had cut his lip; blood spilled over his jaw. She saw his mouth form her name, and she shouted over him.
    “Mad Machen!” She aimed for his heart even as he lowered his gun—as did everyone around them. No longer concerned for their lives, they cleared a path between Ivy and Eben, and settled in to watch. “You heartless brigand! You’ve tracked me to the ends of the earth to have your revenge, and you’ve used me in your bed. You’ve forced me to work in Vesuvius ’s smithy. No more. I demand that you set a course for my home, Captain. And you will do it now, or I will put a bullet through your mad brainpan.”
    Eben’s expression darkened. Slowly, he rose to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth. His voice was low and dangerous. “So you think you’ll take command of my ship, do you?”
    “You have forced me to this point, Mad Machen. Do you think that I will stay in your smithy forever? No longer will I watch as you make a fortune with my windups, forcing me to slave away on your ship and selling them at every port.”
    “You’ll do whatever I say, Ivy Blacksmith. You’re mine, as is every coin you earn.”
    She adjusted her aim when he stalked toward her. “Stay there, or I will shoot your leg from under you!”
    She planned to make him a better one, anyway.
    He didn’t stop. Ivy fired. The bullet slammed into solid steel just below his right knee. He stumbled forward to keep his balance. A murmur ran through the crowd.
    Jaw hardening, Eben straightened. The look he gave Ivy sent the men around her table scrambling for distance. He approached, and when he was within a few feet, Ivy pointed the revolver at his groin.
    “Next will be your prick, sir. And you know that my hands are too steady to miss.”
    His grin was a mad thing, filled with blood and wild laughter. “Then I will force you to graft on a new one. Perhaps something smaller, that you can take more easily.”
    He continued forward. Ivy pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a loud click. She only had time to shriek before he swept her feet from the tabletop. Tossing her facedown over his shoulder, he strode for the door. She pounded her fists against his back, screaming for help.
    Thank the blessed stars, not a single patron came to her aid. And she was gratified to hear, just before Eben pushed through the exit,
    “She’s as bleeding mad as he is!”
     
    I vy found herself in the nearest alley, up against the nearest wall, with Eben kissing her as if he’d never stop. She didn’t want him to. Threading her fingers into his hair, she tasted his sweat and his blood—but the tears were hers.
    “I love you,” she said against his mouth the moment he gave her a chance to breathe. “I love you. Did you know?”
    His eyes closed and he shook his head. “Not until I saw you on that table. You are mad. And, my God, I love you for it.”
    Laughing, she kissed him again. After a moment, she said, “You have to punish me for challenging your command.”
    “By forcing you to set up a shop aboard Vesuvius ?”
    “By keeping me with you forever.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I will have clean air, a view, work for my mind and my hands—and you. Everything I want. So take me home, Captain.”
    “That’s an order I’ll follow.” Lifting her up, Eben cradled her against his chest and turned for the docks.
    Ivy smiled and lay her head on his shoulder. “Would you have let me return to Fool’s Cove?”
    “No. When courting fails, the next step is abduction.”
    She laughed into the night—until she caught a glimpse of his face. His expression was serious. Her mouth fell open. “Weren’t you joking?”
    His sudden grin didn’t make her any more or less certain. Alright. She’d let