The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,100
crossed the threshold. She couldn’t see who his host was, but as soon as the door shut, she hurried toward the house—and the nearest lit-up window. It was conveniently open, as well, so she could hear the conversation that had already started within.
“You used me,” Sam said in a voice that shook with anger and disappointment.
“Did I?” asked a strangely accented male voice. “How so?”
“To get to the Duke of Greythorne. To get information about us.”
Finley frowned. What the devil? Slowly, she rose up on her toes to peer in the window. Sam stood in the center of the room, towering over his companion. A man whose left hand was made of bright, shiny metal. She recognized the hand, and his face. Sam was talking to Leonardo Garibaldi— The Machinist.
“Son of a wench,” she whispered. How had the big dolt gotten himself into such a mess? It was obvious from his expression that he had been lied to and betrayed by The Machinist.
“And good information it was,” Garibaldi replied. Finley guessed his accent must be Italian. “You were a very generous source, my friend.”
“I’m not going to let you get away with it,” Sam vowed, jaw clenched. “I’m taking you to Scotland Yard.”
The older man smiled sadly. “No, you’re not. You underestimate me, my friend. But then you make a habit of underestimating people. It is why I like you so much. But now, like everything else, our friendship, sadly, must die. I am sorry, Samuel. Not just for betraying you, but for leaving you with my wonderful toy, which I brought here for just such an occasion.”
Finley’s eyes widened as the door to the room was flung open, revealing a metal man approximately seven and a half feet tall. Its head was like a chromium skull, with lidless eyes and metal teeth set in a lifelike grimace. It moved into the room with a graceful gait, articulated limbs moving smoothly.
It was amazing. It was terrible. And it was headed right for Sam.
Garibaldi chose that moment to make his escape. “Forgive me, my friend,” he said to Sam as he fled to the door, and then out.
The front door slammed. Finley saw Garibaldi flee toward a steam carriage waiting on the street. He jumped inside and the carriage began to roar away. She stepped back from the window, and ran after it, determined to catch The Machinist.
But the sound of metal hitting metal stopped her. From where she stood, she could just barely see inside the house, but what she saw was the metal man as it hit Sam in the face, knocking the large fellow into the wall. Plaster rained down. Finley swore, her gaze flitting from Sam to the disappearing carriage. She could go after Garibaldi and capture him, or she could help Sam. If she helped Sam, Garibaldi would get away and she would have to admit to letting that happen to Griffin.
But if she went after Garibaldi, there was a very good chance this brutal automaton would kill Sam—the one who thought her a villain. The one who had almost strangled her. The big lad was nigh on invincible against a human opponent, but metal didn’t tire. Metal didn’t give up. Metal would rip his lungs out.
Finley sighed. There really wasn’t a choice, was there?
She hoped Griffin wasn’t too disappointed—and that the metal didn’t kill Sam and her both—as she ran full tilt toward the house and leaped through the open window.
Chapter 19
How could he have been so stupid?
Facing the automaton with its metal grin and lidless eyes, Sam was certain he would never make it out of that house alive. And even if he did, he wasn’t certain he’d deserve it.
He’d thought Leon—Leonardo—was his friend. He’d basically given their enemy every bit of information he might want to know about Griffin and Finley and the others. Griff’s secret weapon indeed—he’d sold them all down the river.
And now he was going to die for it. Maybe his friends would forgive him then.
He watched the machine warily, waiting for it to strike again so he could counter and dodge. Blood from the last blow lingered on his tongue. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something come sailing through the open window. At first he thought it was an animal, judging from the sound it made, but when it rolled to its feet not far from where he stood, he saw that it wasn’t an animal at all. It was Finley.