The Girl In The Clockwork Collar (33 page)

“Griffin!” Finley shouted. Dalton and Mei were both headed to the back wall, wands outstretched. She raced to Griffin as he stopped dead in his tracks and began to concentrate.

His hands shook. Was he afraid that the “ghost” might be waiting for him? Or was he worried that he might not be able to shut the machine down and Dalton would get away? Finley didn’t know, but she did know that she was there for him. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his arm—she knew better than to touch his hands. His gaze locked with hers for a split second, and then his eyes closed.

And then something strange happened. It was as subtle as a breeze, but Finley felt it—a shift in the Aether. When she looked, the wall looked as it had, and Dalton and Mei were gone.

“Damn!” It was Griffin who swore, not her. “I thought I had it.” He raked a hand through his hair, mussing the previously perfect waves.

Finley grabbed his hand. “Come on, we need to get outside.”

“Jasper,” Griffin barked. “Do you see them?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “What the tarnation … ? Griff, there’s something going on. I’m going down.”

“We’ll be right there.”

The four of them tore off in search of the back entrance to the building. When they found it, they raced along the side of the building until they turned the corner where Dalton’s carriage supposedly waited.

Finley stopped dead in her tracks as the scene before her suddenly came together in her mind. The horror of it brought a rush of bile to the back of her throat. And the noise. That horrible noise.

“Oh, my God.”

If there had been anything in his stomach to come back up, it would have. Tears filled Jasper’s eyes as his heart twisted in his chest and his stomach rolled in protest. He heard the others approach and whirled to face Griffin.

“Do something!” he cried.

Griffin and the others stopped and stared, just as Jasper had done when he raced down here and arrived on the scene.

Dalton had made it through the building but not quite into his vehicle. His hand was lodged inside the newly solid carriage door, and he whimpered in pain. But it was Mei …

Mei hadn’t gotten as far before Griffin shut the machine down. Mei hadn’t made it completely out of the building. Most of her upper body protruded from the brick and stone.

The rest was trapped in the wall, and she was screaming in pain.

Griffin held out his hands. There was a slight shift in reality—so subtle, like a blink—and Dalton fell to the ground by his carriage, clasping his ruined hand to his chest. Mei tumbled from the wall into Jasper’s arms. He caught her and slowly lowered her to the ground as her screams gave way to a guttural, gurgling sound.

“Mei,” he whispered. He thought his heart had broken when she’d betrayed him, but that hadn’t hurt nearly as much as this.

Wide dark eyes gazed up at him from her pale face. Blood stained her lips. Jasper turned his gaze to Emily. “Can you help her?”

Emily shook her head, her face a study in anguish and remorse. And Griffin … Griffin looked like hell.

“Send for an ambulance,” he shouted as Whip and his men came onto the scene. Jasper’s brother-in-law took one look at the carnage and nodded grimly, sending one of his men to do as Griffin commanded.

Little Hank tried to escape, but Sam grabbed him, and that was all the attention Jasper bothered to give the others. He turned back to Mei, knowing full well that there was nothing anyone could do to help her now.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse with the tears he fought to hold back. He brushed a stray lock of inky-black hair back from her face. “I’m so very, very sorry.”

She made a choking noise in the back of her throat. “Not … your … fault.” Her fingers clutched at those he held to her face. “For … give me.”

And then she was gone. Her eyes changed, and all the tension left her body, and that’s how he knew that she was dead.

He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. A sob tore from his throat as he held her against his chest. He buried his face in her silky hair and, heedless of the crowd around him, wept as though his heart was breaking.

It was.

“What are you doing?”

Griffin managed a small smile as the cold night air numbed his cheeks. He was on the narrow deck on the front of the airship, leaning against the rail. “Thinking.”

Finley came up beside him, the lights of the
Helena
casting golden highlights on her hair as the wind tried to rip it from the knot at the back of her head. “It’s not your fault,” she told him.

He nodded. He had heard similar sentiments over the past two days, but none of them—not even the one from Jasper— could ease the horrible feeling of guilt and responsibility that weighed heavy on his chest. “I know, but I still did it.”

Mei was dead because of him. It didn’t matter that it had been her own greed that had brought her there in the first place. He had killed her and—worse—he’d had to stand there and watch her die.

It made him want to vomit every time he thought about it—which was about a thousand times a day.

Jasper didn’t blame him. Jasper forgave him. He said he knew that Griffin would have done anything to save Mei. None of them knew it, but Griffin had even gone to Tesla on the wild hope that maybe the eccentric inventor had managed to construct a machine to travel back in time. But he was told that no one had yet perfected the art of time travel. Griffin would have gone back if he could. He would have even let Dalton get away if it meant that Mei might live.

But there was no going back, no matter how much he might wish for it. He hadn’t killed Mei on purpose, but he just hadn’t thought of timing. His only thought had been stopping them.

Well, he had certainly done that.

“Are you going to be all right?” Finley asked, a small frown pulling at her brows. “I’m worried about you.”

He took her hand in his own and brought her knuckles to his lips. “Thank you. I’ll be fine in time, I’m sure.” But that was a lie. He didn’t think he’d ever be “right” again.

Finley watched him closely, as though she could see through him. Maybe she could—she seemed to know what he was thinking at the most inconvenient times.

“How long did Jasper say he’d be in San Francisco?” she asked, turning her gaze back to the sky.

“A few weeks. He wants to spend time with his family.” He didn’t need to add that he was also going to make certain Mei had a decent funeral. He and Whip took her body with them, as well as Dalton and the other prisoners. Personally, he’d be surprised if Jasper returned to London afterward. If he was the cowboy, he wouldn’t want to stay under Griffin’s roof—but perhaps that was just his guilty conscience talking.

“It was good of you to give him that money,” Finley remarked quietly, her voice barely audible over the thrum of the airship’s engines.

Griffin shrugged. Paying for the funeral was the least he could do, wasn’t it?

“I don’t know about you.” There was forced brightness in her tone. “But I’m delighted to see the backside of Miss Astor-Prynn.”

That actually brought a small smile to his lips. “I didn’t notice her backside. Was it nice?”

She squeezed his fingers. “Ow!” he cried, but it hadn’t hurt—not really. “Bloody hell, woman.”

“Take that as a warning, Your Grace. I can beat you into shape if need be. And don’t think you’re going to be allowed to wallow in guilt with me around. I won’t stand for it. Do I make myself clear?”

Griffin swallowed. She was rather … attractive when she bossed him around. He was so used to being the boss himself that it was nice to have someone looking out for him. “Crystal,” he replied.

Finley smiled. “Good.”

He gazed into her eyes, so bright when the light hit them. “Finley, I want you to know I trust you. I was a git, thinking you might prefer a life of crime instead of with me, Emily and Sam.”

“No, you weren’t,” she corrected, surprising him. “Being part of Dalton’s gang—getting his attention—was fun at first. And then Whip Kirby put those irons around my wrists, and I realized the consequences of being an idiot. I don’t want that life. I want to be with you—and the others.”

A grin spread across his face at her half hearted amendment. He knew what she meant, and he meant it, too. It was all right if neither of them said it aloud. They both talked too much, anyway. Thought too much, too.

So instead of thinking about it, Griffin simply wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted like the strawberries they’d had for dessert, and she smelled of fresh air and cinnamon. Her arms came up over his shoulders, around his neck, and she kissed him back.

Tesla might not have invented a machine for going back in time, but Griffin thought he’d just found a way to stop it.

A thousand years later, he lifted his head. Finley stared up at him. He stared back, and after a moment, they both began to smile.

“It’s cold out here,” she said. “We should go in.”

“I suppose we should.”

Then she came up on her toes and kissed him, and all thoughts of going inside and cold noses vanished for a while.

He held her hand when they returned to the inner cabin of the dirigible. Sam and Emily were waiting for them there. Griffin’s heart lightened at the sight of them. They both looked concerned when they met his gaze, and their worry warmed him. They didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Maybe in time he’d agree with them.

“About time the two of you came back,” Sam commented with his usual charm. He pointed at Emily. “She thinks we should all have some kind of wing contraptions so we can fly on our own.”

Finley glanced at Griffin. “When we first came to New York, you asked me if I would like to know how it felt to really fly.”

“Such devices would be very beneficial,” Emily informed him.

“My arms would get tired,” Sam countered.

“They’re for gliding, Sam. You don’t have to flap. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

The image of Sam flapping wings attached to his arms like a chicken caused Griffin to laugh out loud. The three of them stared at him for a second and soon joined in.

“Get whatever you need, Em.” Griffin wiped his eyes. “The expense will be worth it just to see Sam flap.”

They laughed some more—Sam possibly the hardest.

It was at that moment that he knew everything was going to be fine. If he could still laugh, then all was not lost.

He was going to be all right after all.