The Girl in the Clockwork Collar (Steampunk Chronicles #2)(37)
“He’s gone through a lot of trouble for it. Anything that important can’t be good. We have to find out what he’s up to and stop it before anyone gets hurt.”
Jasper rubbed the back of his neck. “If we can.”
“He’s threatened Mei, hasn’t he?” She shot him a sideways glance. “That’s how he’s making you do this.”
There was just enough hope in her voice that Jasper’s throat tightened. That was friendship—she and Griffin had no idea if he could be trusted, but they acted as though he was.
He set his hat on his head. “Yeah. That collar she wears, it … it tightens if she tries to leave or does anything to upset Dalton.” He met her gaze. “He’ll kill her, Miss Finley. He’ll do it in a blink. He’s done it before.”
She didn’t say anything, just nodded, but he could tell from her grim expression that she believed him, and like him, she had no idea just how they were going to get out of this situation without anyone getting hurt. Going to the authorities was not an option, not when Mei’s life was in Dalton’s hands.
The sound of hooves on cobblestones drew their attention, and Jasper watched as a somewhat scuffed and dusty carriage pulled up to the curb, Little Hank at the reins.
“Hasn’t Dalton ever heard of steam engines?” Finley asked, eyeing the archaic mode of transport.
“He fancies himself a proper cowboy,” Jasper told her as they walked down the steps. “Horses all the way. Only thing a steam engine’s good for is robbin’. Plus, Little Hank’s afraid of steam, aren’t you, big fella?”
The behemoth glared at him, but Jasper saw him cast a glance at his left hand—which was encased in a leather glove. Hank had scars from a steam burn he got during a robbery. It was cruel to tease him about what had been a horribly painful experience, but Jasper figured he owed him a couple of insults after the beating Hank had given him upon his arrival in New York.
He held the carriage door open for Finley. Before he followed her inside, he looked up at Hank. “Mulberry Street. Bandit’s Roost.”
If nothing else, he had the pleasure of seeing the big man’s face pale. Mulberry Street was part of Five Points and one of the worst areas of the slums. Little Hank would have to be far dumber than he looked to not be worried. Even a man his size couldn’t survive an attack by an entire gang.
Jasper grinned. “Don’t worry, Hank. I’ll protect you.” Then he ducked inside the carriage and closed the door.
Finley regarded him with an arched brow. “You simply cannot help that tongue of yours, can you?”
He touched the brim of his hat. “No, ma’am. I cannot.”
She smiled and glanced out the window as they started to move. Jasper leaned back against the worn cushions and enjoyed being out of the house. He felt calm—calmer than he had in the long months since leaving Dalton’s gang. Maybe it was because the smell of horse reminded him of home. Or maybe it was because he knew that he might very well die in this city and never see San Francisco, his family or even London again.
At least he’d die having seen Mei one last time. At least he wouldn’t have any regrets there.
Other than getting her into this mess, that was. “I hear they’re going to raze the Five Points neighborhood,” Finley remarked, pulling him from his maudlin but strangely serene thoughts.
Jasper nodded. “Apparently they tried to a couple of years ago, but a new gang headed by a gal named Wildcat McGuire stepped up and put the kibosh to that. Some think she bribed or blackmailed the right people. Others say she’s a witch.”
Finley’s lips curved into a skeptical smile. “What do you think?”
“I think she’s effective.” That was all he cared to reveal on the subject for now. He glanced out the window to see if Whip Kirby was following them. He’d spotted the lawman outside Dalton’s house on a couple of evenings, just watching—waiting for the opportunity to grab Jasper and drag him to the nearest noose, no doubt.
He almost wished Kirby would make his move—at least that would put a dent in Dalton’s plans.
He and Finley didn’t talk much for the remainder of the trip, mostly because there was no way of knowing if Dalton had installed any kind of devices in the interior of the carriage that might allow Little Hank to overhear their conversation. Jasper didn’t much mind the silence. He liked Finley, but neither of them needed to waste time jabbering. What they needed to do was think of a way to stop Dalton. They needed the others. If anyone could figure out how to get the collar off Mei without causing injury, it was Emily.
He felt guilty thinking of the pretty little red-haired girl when he ought to be thinking of Mei. It felt like being unfaithful, but that didn’t change the fact that Emily was the smartest and most capable girl he knew.
A few minutes later, he was saved from having to justify his own thoughts to himself by the carriage coming to a stop. He peeked out the window. Bandit’s Roost.
He opened the carriage door and stepped out, followed by Finley. They were at the mouth of a narrow lane—not much bigger than an alley—which ran between crammed, sagging buildings, most housing more people than they were ever intended to hold. Lines of clothing ran from second and third floors, from one house to the opposite. Worn trousers, stained and grungy shirts, mended socks and the odd pair of yellowed drawers waved in the breeze, but smoke from cooking fires kept all laundry from ever smelling completely clean.