Jasper nodded. I remember.
Slapping his thighs, Dalton replied, Good. Youll get the second one tomorrow. Now lets get out of here. This place smells like sweat and blood.
It did at that, and Jasper wasnt sorry to leave it. The ride back to Daltons rented house was quiet. Not even Mei spoke, though Jasper caught her glaring at Dalton once or twice. The cad only smiled at her in return.
Jaspers mind whirled. If Finley was trying to infiltrate the gang, then surely she and the others believed in his innocence. He didnt know whether he loved them for it or wanted to cuff em upside their fool heads. He was touched that they came for him but terrified one or more of them would be hurtor worsebecause of him. It seemed he couldnt get close to anyone without putting them at risk.
At the house, Little Hank practically shoved him all the way to his room and tossed him inside without a word. Jasper kicked off his boots and tossed his hat and coat on a chair before dropping onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling. He had only just started ruminating on a way out of this mess when he heard the key turn in the lock.
Mei.
She came into the room in a bright blue silk dressing gown, carrying a medium-size polished oak box, which appeared to be heavy. Jasper got up and took the burden from her.
Set it on the desk, she instructed, and he did, noticing that it wasnt really a box at all, but some kind of auditory device. Set into one side of it was a brass funnellike one would find on a Victrola.
What is this contraption? he asked.
Mei smiled as she opened the lid, revealing a panel of knobs and switches and a place to insert punch cards. Dalton calls it a portable phonograph. It runs on a power cell made in England. Jasper didnt tell her Griffins grandfather had discovered the ore that made the power cell possible. It was a modern marvel, but a good part of the world still depended on, or preferred, gaslight or even candles and lamps.
Where did it come from? he asked.
I believe Dalton stole it from someone named Edison.
Thomas Edison? Jasper asked, dumbfounded.
Mei nodded. Thats it.
Was the machine Jasper had hidden something of Edisons, as well? If so, no wonder Dalton wanted it back. It could be a terrible thingafter all, Edison was the man who had electrocuted animals to prove electricity could also be used to execute criminals.
She flicked a switch, adjusted two of the knobs and then inserted a punch card. Music wafted from the funnel, clear and sweet. Mei adjusted the volume so that the music would only be heard in that room and then took him by the hand with a gentle smile.
Come, she said. Talk to me.
They lay down on the bed, where they could be comfortable. Jasper held her in his arms, against his chest, and breathed in the sweet, flowery scent of her. In that moment, he could forget just what a dang mess hed made of things.
You really didnt know those girls tonight? she asked.
He hesitated. He wanted to tell her who the girls were, that he had friends who would do their best to help Mei and him, but if she didnt know, then she wouldnt have to lie to Dalton. She wouldnt be in danger.
No, he said. I dont know them. That one with the black in her hair sure is tough, though, aint she?
Very, she replied, clearly impressed. And she knows Eastern fighting techniques.
Theyre becoming all the rage in London now, he responded. Shed sounded slightly suspicious. Especially among the suffragettes.
Warrior women, she mused with a smile. I like that. I ... noticed you looking at the red-haired girl. Do you think shes pretty?
Asking if Miss Emily was pretty was sort of like asking if the sun was warm. She brightened any room she was in, as fresh and light as Mei was dark and exotic. There was no way he could compare the two of them, and thats what she was asking him to do. What she really wanted to know was if he thought Emily was prettier than her.
Shes all right. He squeezed her against his chest. Shes not you, though. That was the most diplomatic reply he could think of.
Clearly it worked, because Mei smiled and cuddled against him. When she lifted her face for a kiss, Jasper paused again. A soft ticking noise captured his attentionit was coming from her. That collar. Does it hurt?
Mei raised slender fingers to the clockwork device around her neck. Its a little tight when Dalton winds it, but Ive gotten so accustomed to it, I barely notice anymore.
So he doesnt tighten it to punish you?
He did in the beginningwhen I tried to escape. Thats how I know that it actually works. I dont know how, but he knows when I try to leave. But tonight, at the fight, I was fine.
Jaspers jaw clenched. He could kill Dalton. It probably transmits through the Aether. He didnt know much about the energy but he had seen machines that could harness the powerit was like they could work without wires or connections. Mei had been fine, because shed been close to Dalton. Its a big risk youre taking, sneaking in here to see me like this. If Dalton found her not in her room, he might tighten the collar just to remind her of her place.
She stroked his cheek with her delicate fingers, eyes sparkling up at him. Its a risk Im willing to take.
What if Dalton finds out? He couldnt stand it if she got into any more trouble because of him.
Mei inched closer, bringing her face to his. I dont care, she whispered, resolute.
The second her lips touched his, all of Jaspers misgivings evaporated, and he realized thatat that precise moment he didnt care about Dalton, either.
Chapter 5
Griffin knew the exact moment Finley returned to the hotel. He knew because he was waiting for her in her room. He sat in a chair playing with a little clockwork owl he had bought for her earlier that daythinking it might help make up for being such a git to her the other night. When wound up, it turned its head, blinked its big eyes and fluttered its delicate brass wings.
Perhaps it would be petulant of him, but he was tempted to crush it beneath his boot.
He was so angry at her. She could have gotten herself seriously hurt. She could have gotten herself killed.
He had lost his parents. Hed almost lost Sam. He would not lose her. Emotion seethed inside him, churning his insides until it felt as though all of his organs had been displaced. Unfortunately, heightened emotion tended to trigger a defense response from his abilities, which was never good.
Griffin was connected to the Aether, which, simply put, was energy. It came from all living matter and made up the realm of the dead. Most people went their entire lives without ever touching it. Some people could harness it to speak to the dead, see ghosts. Griffin could literally cross over into it. He could wield it as power, but sometimes, if he wasnt careful, the Aether used him. He had runic tattoos, similar to the ones hed given Finley, that helped him focus and channel his power, but there was only so much symbols could do. Even those made from Organite ink.
That raw power closed around him, thinning the veil between this world and the next, filling him with restless energy. He had to calm down before it was too late.
Slowly, he drew a deep breath and exhaled it. Then again. In his hand, the little owl fluttered, going through its repertoire of motions as he allowed bits of Aetheric energy to flow into it.
Never before had anyone inspired such turbulence within him. Finley Jayne had been trouble from the night he literally ran into her, and yet, he could not bring himself to let her go. He wanted to trust her as deeply as he wanted her to trust him, but at this rate, they would never get there.
When he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, he stilledand so did the owl. He focused his attention on the door; for a moment, he thought the heavy wood bowed ever so slightly on its hinges, pulling toward him.
Another breath. In. Out. Calm.
The moment she crossed the threshold, his heart punched his ribs as though it was fighting for lifeso hard it was painful. Her black-streaked, honey-colored hair was a mess, tendrils escaping from sticks she used to secure the thick knot on the back of her head. Her knuckles and corset sported rusty smearsdried blood. Her pretty face hosted similar blooms of color along with violent-looking bruises, which smeared across her skin.
Smeared?
Griffins eyes narrowed. Not bruisesnot anymore. The smears were from cosmetics, no doubt employed to keep Dalton from noticing that she had healed faster than she should. To be honest, he would think her healing abilities would only serve to make her more attractive to the criminal. Should he mention that or simply be grateful she hadnt been eager to give away all her secrets?
Emily was with her, laughing at something Finley said as they entered the room. It was Emily who first noticed him, laughter dying as she saw him. Whatever she saw when her gaze locked with his made the cute little redhead blanch.
Evening, lad, she said, voice slightly strained.
Griffin rose to his feetit was what a gentleman did when ladies entered the room. Good evening, Em. Finley.
Finley didnt pale when she met his gaze, although it would be hard to tell with the amount of dried blood and cosmetics on her face. Her chin came up defiantly, however. She expected a fight. He wasnt surprised, as a fight was exactly what he suspected she wanted. Shed taken and delivered over an hours worth of violence during the fights that night and still had a little steel left in her spine.
He had told her he wouldnt fight for her affection, but that had been a lie. He would fight. Only, he hadnt thought that she would be his opponent.
Im really tired, Emily announced out of the blue. I think Ill trundle myself off to bed. Good night! She was gone before either Griffin or Finley could respond, the door clicking shut behind her.
The air seemed to thicken now that just the two of them were left in the room. The temperature seemed higher, as well, as though their mutual anger set the water in the radiator to boil.
Finley crossed her arms over her chest and stood with legs braced, as though ready for battle. Griffin kept his own hands at his sides, the thumb of his left stroking the owl.