Iron Cast(102)

Except it didn’t sting, the way that steel should.

She stumbled backward, her mind reeling to catch up. From the corner of her eye, in the distance, she saw a glint of orange light in the black. Gabriel was lighting a match.

Before she could scream, Jackson had lunged on top of her and clamped a hand onto her face. She kicked blindly, feeling the barrel of his gun pressed into her stomach. She managed to bring up one of her knees for leverage and rolled hard to the right, slamming his shoulder into a crate. She heard the clunk of the gun hitting the floor and tried to pull up her other knee so she could push away from him. He moved both his hands to her neck, and she choked on her last breath as his grip tightened around her windpipe.

Her vision exploded into red and violet. She clawed at his hands, digging her fingernails into skin, but his hold was a vise. She could hear music through the rushing in her ears. She wondered if instead of seeing her life flash before her eyes, she was going to relive one of her most cherished, most private memories. Huddled on her bed in the Cast Iron, still in the black dress from her grandfather’s funeral, and Ada sitting beside her, coaxing everything bright and beautiful in the world back to life with only the strings on her violin.

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she realized that the music was real. With her last reserve of strength she lifted her right hand and raked her fingernails across Jackson’s face until she found his ear. She yanked the earplug away and then stopped struggling, because she was just too damn tired.

As she slipped into unconsciousness, she thought his grip was loosening. But that might have just been wishful thinking.

Ada played the violin until Gabriel switched the lights back on. At first she didn’t even notice when they plunged back into light. Her eyes were shut tightly with focus. She was trying to aim the music directly toward Jackson, which was something she had never attempted without actually being able to see the person. But Jackson was the one with the gun, and she couldn’t risk putting everyone else to sleep if he still had the earplugs in. She was hoping that Jackson had removed them to hear better in the dark.

When her eyes had adjusted to the light, she surveyed the warehouse, spinning in a tight circle. She could see Charlie above at the railing, and Gabriel was behind her, coming back from the light switch, but Corinne was nowhere to be seen.

“Cor,” she shouted, running down the length of the warehouse, scanning the rows of crates.

Then she saw Jackson, slumped on the ground, and Corinne beside him. She screamed.

She ran to them, not caring if he would wake up, not caring if he still had the gun. She could hear Gabriel behind her as she threw herself down beside Corinne, who was lying unmoving on her back. Jackson’s hands were loose around her neck, and Ada pushed him off.

“Cor,” she said, sliding her hands underneath her head to cradle it. “Corinne, wake up.”

“She’s breathing,” Gabriel said, the relief evident in his voice.

Ada saw that he had taken one of Corinne’s hands in his own. When Ada caught his eye, he dropped her hand and grabbed Jackson’s gun from the ground.

“Here,” he said, flicking on the safety and giving it to her. “Just in case.”

Ada stared at the unfamiliar weight in her hands. It was relatively small and would fit easily in her coat pocket. That was where she tucked it, for now.

“How long will Jackson stay asleep?” Gabriel asked.

“Not long,” Ada said.

“Stay with Corinne,” he said. “I’m going to help Charlie get Saint down so we can reuse those chains for Sleeping Beauty.”

Gabriel took both of Jackson’s wrists and dragged him out of the aisle and toward the center of the warehouse. Ada maneuvered to rest Corinne’s head on her knees. She hummed a low tune, willing the melody to follow Corinne into her dreams, to bring her back soon.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



When Corinne regained consciousness, it was like waking from an afternoon nap. Ada’s music was inside her, filling her up with a serenity she had never found anywhere else. It wasn’t until she had opened her eyes that her head began to split and her throat began to burn. She coughed and sucked in ragged breaths.

“You’re all right, you’re all right,” Ada kept repeating, though Corinne couldn’t help but feel it was more for Ada’s benefit than her own.

She sat up with Ada’s help.

“Can you walk?” Ada asked. “We’ve got Saint in the car. We didn’t want to move you until you woke up.”

“Where’s Johnny?” Corinne pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to edge out her agonizing headache.

“Gone. Who knows where. He must’ve slipped out while the lights were off.”

Corinne nodded slowly, relieved that she didn’t have to face him again. She accepted Ada’s help in standing. They walked outside together, with Corinne leaning on Ada’s shoulder. Saint was in the backseat of the car, head resting against the window. Charlie stood a few feet away, watching the street nervously. Gabriel was leaning against the driver’s side door, smoking a cigarette. On the ground beside him was Jackson, who was fettered well with iron and apparently unconscious.

“What are we going to do with him?” Corinne asked.

“Drop him off at the police station, I guess,” Ada said. “They probably know he’s one of Johnny’s crew.”