He came at her again, like a bull. Finley didnt think, she simply reacted and took two quick steps forward. With that slight momentum, she lifted her right boot to the wall and pushed up, grabbing the scrolled brass of the wall sconce for support and whipped her left leg out.
She kicked him in the face.
He keeled over like a milk bottle knocked off a step, hitting the floor with a solid thump. He lay there, motionless, an imprint of the heel of her boot smack in the middle of his forehead, blood trickling from his already swelling nose.
She hopped down from the wall and went to stand over him, victorious and self-satisfied. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, making her practically dance in her boots. Lord Felix had promised to teach her a lesson, but he was the one who had been schooled. Hed think twice before laying a hand on another girl.
But Finleys satisfaction was short-lived. In fact, it was over at almost the precise moment when she looked at Lord Felixs face. He was so still, so pale except for the blood. What if he was dead? All the fight whooshed out of her, leaving her trembling and cold in its wake.
What have I done? she whispered.
What you had to.
She felt his neck for a pulse, relief engulfing her as she found it. She hadnt killed him. At least she wouldnt hang. But she had still attacked the son of a peer of the realm and there would be consequences.
Three jobs in three months and theyd all ended with an experience like this one, although this was by far the worst. Shed been let go from each position because of her behavior, something that had released this thing inside her. Urges to act in a way that was far from civilized, far beyond what she as a young woman should be capable of.
Theyd bring the law down on her for this. Theyd lock her up. Or worse, use her for scientific experiments in New Bethlehem AsylumBedlam. And they would experiment on her once they realized she was abnormal.
Run, the voice inside her whispered. Run away.
Listening to the voice had gotten her into this mess, perhaps this time it would get her out. There was no way Lord Felix wouldnt exact retribution upon her for harming himeither by finishing what hed started or by bringing the authorities down upon her. There was no way she was going to let him do what he wanted to her. No way shed risk having her brain dissected for giving him less than what he really deserved.
So Finley listened to the voice and ran.
Bent low over the gleaming steering bars of his velocycle as he sped through the rainy darkness of Hyde Park, Griffin King felt a faint ripple of warning in the Aether a split second before the girl ran right out in front of him. The rune tattoos he had to heighten his senses and abilities blazed with heat, calling out the danger just in time.
He swerved, jerking hard on the bars to avoid her, but it was too late. The glare of the headlamp slashed across her surprised face and then she was thrown through the air as he struggled to maintain control of the machine and failed. The notched wheels tore into the ground as the cycle tipped to the side, tossing him to the path before skidding to a halt several feet away.
The leather duster he wore protected him from being torn up by gravel as he slid and rolled on the rough ground. When he finally came to a stop, he lay sprawled on the wet grass just for a moment to catch his breath and spit out the dirt that had flown into his mouth.
Is she all right? he called out as he gingerly rose to his feet, flicking mud and grass from his leather gloves. Nothing was broken, but he still felt as though hed been slammed into a brick wall, and tomorrow hed have bruises to match.
In the glow of the light from the second cyclethis one upright and braced on its support barhe saw his friend, Sam Morgan, kneel over the prone body of the girl. From this angle, all Griff could see around Sams large frame was a pair of long legs encased in tall, thick-soled leather boots and orange-and-black-striped stockings. Servants garb.
At eighteen, Griff was at an age when all he should be concerned with was ensuring his allowance lasted a full term at Oxford. His parents death had made him the Duke of Greythorne at age fifteen, subsequently making him all too familiar with what servants wore, since hed recently had to hire new staff. There were some chores machines couldnt door werent wanted to doand those demanded a host of human employees, all of whom were designated by the uniforms they wore. Orange and black made her a ladies maid. Too exalted a position for this girl to be out alone at this time of night.
Sam? he questioned, favoring his left leg as he moved closer to the pair. Is she all right?
Got a pulse. His friends low, laconic voice came from beneath the dripping brim of his hat as Griff crouched beside him. Its steady, but shes bleeding. So are you.
Pulling his smudged goggles down so they hung around his neck, Griff glanced down. His blood, coming through the shredded left knee of his trousers, glistened bright red in the light. Ill be fine. Im more concerned about her.
Did you see her face? Sam demanded, taking a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. She looked almost wild.
Griff had seen her facejust before he hit her. There had been something untamed in her features. Something fierce and beautiful, as well.
What was she running from? Sam asked, as he pressed the linen against the wound on her forehead. It was bleeding heavily. Or who?
Griff glanced at the girl whose head was cradled in his friends large hand and saw the red mark on her rain-soaked cheek, the blood at her mouth. Injuries from the accident? Or something intentional?
Regardless, until he was certain she was unharmed, she was his responsibility.
Well take her with us, he decided, lifting the limp body into his arms. A glint of steel peeked through where the leather of her corset had torn.
You reckon thats wise? Sam, Griff knew, wasnt being cold, he was being practical. They already had enough to worry about with the recent robbery at the British Museum and tension within their own little group. Adding this girl and her troubles into the mix could only make things worse. Strangers were always an issue in his house. Always the fear of someone uncovering too much.
We cant leave her. It was as simple as that. Although, they could take her to a hospital, but Griffs honor wouldnt allow that. Besides, something told him not to let this girl out of his sight, and hed learned to trust his instincts. The times he hadnt always ended badly.
Sam swung one leg over the seat of his cycle and took the girl from Griffs embrace into his own. Do you want me to send word ahead?
Griff shook his head, rain running down his face, seeping below his jacket collar to dampen his shirt and skin. Ill do that. Just get her to the housedont leave her unattended. As he spoke, he slipped a battered leather case from his pocket. Inside was a flat machine smaller than a deck of playing cards. It was a personal telegraph machineall the rage now for fast communication. His machine and the ones belonging to his friends were a little faster than those available to the general public as not only were they based on Mr. Teslas wireless design, theyd been augmented to transmit through the Aether by the amazingly brilliant Emily, whom Griffin had hired over her less-capable brothers a year ago.
Griffin flipped the case open at the same time as Sam started up his velocycle. He punched a few of the keys and hit the transmit button. A few seconds later, as Sam drove away, the heavily treaded wheels of his cycle kicking up dirt, a reply appeared on the grainy screen. He squinted to read it in the dark and rain. He neednt have bothered. He knew Emily would do as he asked and make preparations for their guest, and that was exactly what her response said.
He limped harder now, his leg already beginning to stiffen. He clenched his jaw against the discomfort and set about righting his own cycle. The heavy metal frame looked relatively unscathed, but hed give it a thorough going-over in the morning. It started up immediately and Griff slipped his goggles back over his eyes before following in the direction Sam had gone.
Hed deal with the museum robbery in the morning. Nothing terribly valuable seemed to have been stolen, and that was what puzzled him. Special Branch would want answers, but they would have to wait. Right now, the girl was his first priority. An aura of danger clung to her like an oil slick. Unfortunately, he couldnt tell if she was in danger, or if she was danger.
That was what he intended to find out.
Chapter 2
Greythorne House was a sprawling neoclassical mansion situated in Londons Mayfair districtwhere the important people lived. Important, of course, meaning that you were from an old family and rich. That said, you didnt have to be incredibly rich, you just had to give the appearance of it.
Fortunately for Griff, he was very rich. His family was very old. And until a few years ago, when his parents died, his family had been very secretive. It wasnt until almost a year after their murder that he discovered the extent of the secret rooms and laboratories below this house and the main estate in Devon. And just as long since he realized just how much Great Britain owed his family for keeping it safe. He reminded himself of that debt on the few occasions when Her Majesty Victoria suggested that it was Griff who owed something to the Crown instead.
Almost twenty years ago, his parents had taken it upon themselves to continue the work started by his grandfather, the fourteenth Duke of Greythorne, and journeyed to the center of the earth. There they discovered the Cradle of Lifethe place where creation began. What theyd found there had been astounding, but would never see the light of day, at least not in the foreseeable future. The world wasnt ready for it. Helena and Edward King had dedicated their lives to Crown and country, and theyd been killed because of it.
In return, Queen V sent a lovely arrangement of roses to the funeral.
So when Griff dedicated himself to the protection of his homeland, it wasnt for any monarch or out of a sense of duty. He did it to honor his parents, and one day he would find the person responsible for their deaths, and he would have justice.