The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,117

more than substantial than toothpicks beneath a giant boot. The force of it was so strong it knocked Griffin to the ground, where the pain in his gut came rushing back and he gasped, writhing with the agony.

His parents hovered over him, their ghostly faces etched with worry. They reached for him, and he felt his soul lift as though to join them.

Then everything went black.

There wasn’t time to get Griffin home. Emily was also still unconscious and they had to get both her and Griffin somewhere safe, fast. Already they could hear the sirens of approaching Peelers. There was no hope that someone wouldn’t report a collapsing warehouse, even at this time of night. The noise it made, people probably thought London was being invaded.

“Whitechapel,” Finley said, making a decision she hoped was the right one. She got Sam to put Griffin on her cycle while Jasper took Emily on hers—along with the cat. Sam held Emily while a quick as lightning Jasper hitched his cycle to Emily’s and Griffin’s to Sam’s.

She led the way, tearing through the city streets at full speed as much as she could. When she arrived at the familiar Whitechapel address, she was relieved to see a light from one of the windows. Good thing, because she’d been prepared to kick the door in if no one was there.

As it was, she had to have Jasper knock on the door for her because she had Griffin in her arms. Sam now held Emily, the big mechanical cat at his side. It was like a real-life pet, determined not to leave its mistress’s side.

Jack Dandy opened the door, his usual cocky grin on his face when he spotted Finley, but that grin faded when he saw Griffin and Emily. He simply stood back and held the door for them to come in.

Finley took Griffin upstairs and the rest followed.

“First on the right,” Dandy said to Sam at the top of the stairs. Finley had already taken Griffin into the room she’d slept in her one night under this roof. She had Emily’s medical bag over her shoulder, and as soon as she put Griffin on the bed, she tore open the satchel with shaking hands.

Jack was immediately beside her. One of his long, strong hands closed over hers. “I’ve seen worse, Treasure. It don’t look as though the blade is positioned properly to have hit anyfin’ important.”

“How do you know?” Finley demanded, trying very hard not to cry.

Jack squeezed her hands. “I’ve ’ad me some experience with knives and the like. Got a scar on me own hip very much like the one ’is Grace is going to have. Now, what do you ’ave in there for stitchin’ ’im up?”

When it came down to it, Finley trusted Jack—perhaps not with her virtue, but certainly with Griffin’s life. Jack was smart enough to know having a duke in his debt could only be a good thing.

She helped, holding Griffin as Jack removed the blade, keeping pressure on the wound as it bled. He used the Listerine from Emily’s bag to clean the wound, which eased Finley’s mind greatly. If he knew to do what Emily would, then he must indeed know what he was doing. His stitches were small, quick and perfect.

Afterward, Jack gathered up the bloodstained linens. “Stay as long as you like,” he told her. “I’ll be ’eading out soon. Business and all that.”

Finley didn’t want to know, but she went to the tall, lanky young man and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. “Thank you,” she said, tears leaking out of her eyes. “Thank you so much.”

A gentle and hesitant hand came down on her back. “Don’t cry, Treasure. You’ll get me all wet and then I’ll melt. I’m made of sugar, don’t you know.”

She laughed at that and released him, swiping at her eyes with the backs of her wrists—the only parts of her hands that weren’t bloodstained. “I forgot,” she said.

Jack smiled crookedly at her, his dark eyes bright with something she didn’t want to identify. “I’m thinking that’s going to be a five-course dinner,” he informed her. “It could take the better part of the evening.”

Finley nodded, feeling so much better she didn’t care that he was extorting more time out of her. It was worth it. “Sounds fair,” she replied.

With that, Jack tipped an imaginary hat to her and left the room. Once he was gone, Finley took the atomizer of Organites from Emily’s bag, peeled back