Suddenly, a frigid weight slammed down on Finleys back, driving her face into the sooty carpet. She managed to turn her head at the last second to avoid being suffocated. Being able to hear and see Garibaldiand there had been plenty of times when she knew hed been there and she couldnt see himcame with other issues: it made her susceptible to attack by creatures of the Aether. But if The Machinist thought she wouldnt risk herself to bring him down, he was sorely mistaken.
E-Em, she called through chattering teeth. The chill of death seeped deep into her bones. Hes on me. Hes on my back!
But before Emily could shoot, Griffin charged. One moment she was cold as ice, and the next, the weight was off her. She flipped onto her backa motion that was far clumsier than it ought to be thanks to every muscle in her body being frozen stiffand saw Griffin take Garibaldi to the ground. His power made The Machinist visible. He pummeled the ghost with his fists as his eyes blazed. Garibaldi laughed with every blow. Thats it, lose control. It feeds me, you know.
The chill in Finleys heart had nothing to do with Garibaldis touch and everything to do with his words. Em, shoot here! she placed her hand on the ground near The Machinists head. All her friends would see was Griffins fists flying, not what he struck. She whipped her head around as another blast struck, narrowly missing her thumb.
It also missed Garibaldi, who pushed himself up, taking Griffin with him, until they were both on their feet and The Machinist had his hands wrapped around the younger mans wrists.
Got you now, he said, chuckling. Youre mine, Your Grace.
Finley jumped to her feet and leaped at The Machinist. She grabbed at him, but her arms took only air, and she slammed into the ground once more. Emily opened fire again, the blast aimed right at the spot where Garibaldi stood. It would have hit him if he hadnt disappeared.
And he had taken Griffin with him.
Mila lazed on the sofa, her boots propped up on the arm as she popped grapes into her mouth. She liked grapes very much. In fact, they were one of her favorites of all the foods shed tasted thus far. Almost as good as that Indian chicken dish Jack had bought her last night.
Stupid Jack.
She was still learning words, as well. Stupid was one of the newer additions to her vocabulary. Shed been using it a lot lately, especially where Jack was concerned.
Two months shed been living in this house with Jack. Two months of incredible food, interesting words, extraordinary books and plays and music. Two months of filling her mind with so much information she thought she might explode, and she kept wanting more.
Two months of Jack being so stupid she wondered how he managed to function in the world. At first she thought the fault lay with her own brain, because shed been an automaton once, but then she realized that, no, Jack was simply defective. That was bothersome, because he seemed completely adequate in many other ways. In fact, he seemed so smart in many other ways.
Just not when it came to women. Not only did he seem completely ignorant of the changes shed gone through since coming to live with him, but he chose the most annoying, foolish, idiotic, pretentious, untrustworthy women. He had one upstairs with him right now. And judging from the noisesand the pictures shed seen in a naughty book hed since hidden from hershe had a pretty good idea what he was doing with her. It was enough to make even the sweetest grape sour on her tongue.
If Jacks stupidity ruined her palate for grapes shed gut him like a...well, whatever people gutted.
Above her head she heard a thumpher hearing was most exceptional. Apparently everything about her was exceptional, or at least that was what Emily told her. Emily was terribly smart, so it must be true. But if she was so bloody exceptional, why didnt Jack realize it? He seemed to think of her as a child or a petshe had yet to work out the subtle differences between the two. She knew it was something pertaining to biology and such, but emotions were complex and she didnt completely understand them yet.
She only knew that no one could make her happier, angrier or sadder than stupid Jack Dandy. And she was stuck in the bloody house listening to him entertain another woman with dubious hair color. It didnt matter where in the house she went, shed hear. She could go out, but Jack didnt like her going out at night, especially alone. What did he think would happen to her? If anyone came near her, she was physically capable of defending herselfmore than capable. She wasnt naive enough to just go off with someone, and it wasnt as though shed would go looking for trouble. She just didnt want to be there, in that house. Listening.
Thump. She glared up at the ceiling. It would serve the two of them right if she climbed up on some furniture and smashed her fist through the floor. How fast would that painted-up...tart run away when she realized that Jacks houseguest, the one he hid away but sometimes referred to as his ward, was not normal?
Another thumpfollowed by a trill of laughter that made Milas teeth ache, or maybe it was the clenching of her jaw that made them hurt. She swung her feet off the sofa and stood up, setting the bowl of grapes on the table. She had to do something to distract herself. She could get a book, but she didnt feel like reading. She could listen to music, but Jack had taken the phonographic cylinder player upstairs with him.
Pity he hadnt put some music on, but even if he had shed still hear. The tart was loud enough she could be heard over the scream of a steam whistle.
She glanced at the polished mahogany bar in the corner. Bottles of liquor were neatly placed on shelves beneath it. She knew this because shed seen Jack take them out. Hed taken a bottle upstairs with him earlier.
What was so amazing about the stuff? Shed tried to take a sip once and hed torn a strip off her for it. Well, he wasnt there to stop her now. A little smile curved her lips as she walked over to the bar and behind it. Yes, tonight seemed the perfect time to do something Jack didnt like. Spite, she believed it was called. It was a good word, and she was full of it.
Crouching, she withdrew one of the bottles, uncorked it and poured herself a full glass of the contents. She took a sniff. Not too bad. Then she raised the glass to her lips and drained it in several long gulps. She set the glass back on the bar and waited.
Nothing happened.
She repeated the process again. And again. The third time she paused to enjoy the warmth that filled her belly. Hmm. Perhaps she oughtnt have drunk it so fastthe bottle was empty. Well, that was a short diversion. She went back to the sofa and her grapes. A few moments later, as she lifted a grape to her lips, it wavered slightly. She frowned at it. No, there was only one grape in her fingers, not two. But two would be better, wouldnt it? She plucked another one with her other hand and held them up side by side.
Jolly fine weather were having, is it not, Mr. Grapeypants? she asked in a low voice, bouncing the left grape up and down.
It is indeed, Lord Cabernet, replied the right grape in a higher pitch. Nary a cloud to be seen. And isnt it a travesty, the price of tea these days?
Highway robbery. Weve taken to using the same leaves over and over until the pot runs clear.
A sound notion.
Mila laughed. Now, this was a diversion!
Another thump from upstairs. More laughterand this time she heard the familiar sound of Jacks chuckle. It ruined her fun, and made her angry.
Very, very angry, which was surprising because shed heard that wine was supposed to make a person happy. The laughter continued. Mila reached behind her and took a candlestick from the small table. She tested the weight of it in her palm and then tossed it upward with all her strength. It broke through the ceiling, trailing plaster dust as it tore through the floor of Jacks bedroom. The doxy screamed. Jack swore. From where she sat, Mila could see through the hole the candlestick created, to where it had lodged itself in the ceiling above. She grinned. She was still grinning when a portion of Jacks scowling face appeared above the hole.
What the bloomin ell was that all about? he demanded. Ave you gone completely mad?
Completely mad? That implied that he thought her somewhat mad, didnt it? Her grasp on language might not be as good as it ought, but she knew what mad meant. She tossed Lord Cabernet and Sir Grapeypants into the bowl with their society friends and set it aside. Then she jumped up on the sofa. Another big jump and she was able to grab a handhold in the hole she had made. Jack backed upgood thing, too. She drew back her arm and snapped her fist upward, knocking another chunk of ceiling loose.
More screams from the woman. Mila was going to shove the womans own knickers into her mouth just to shut her up. She punched again, and this time a large enough chunk fellonto the sofathat she was able to bring her other hand up and haul herself through the jagged opening.
Jack stared at her as though he truly thought her insane. As if he thought she was a monster. Mila had never wanted to hit him before, but she did now. How could he look at her as if he didnt know her? As if he didnt understand?
Wot the ell? He was on his feet nowclad only in a pair of black trousers that werent fastened all the way. His naked flesh was quite captivating, though Mila wasnt certain why. Shed seen him undressed before, but now she wanted to put a shirtor her handson him. Behind him, his companion tried to hide her nudity with her garish gown. Her naked flesh was not so captivating. In fact, the sight of it made Mila want to toss her out the bloody window.
Instead, she turned to Jack. Youre stupid, she informed him. Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Youre a stupid-head. And youre loud, and pretty and... Her attention went back to the woman. Your laugh hurts my ears like a screeching door hinge.
Are you drunk? Jack demanded.
How should I know? Mila shot back. I dont know what drunk is!