The Girl in the Clockwork Collar (Steampunk Chronicles #2)(54)
“Good.” She didn’t have to see Dalton’s face to know that he was pleased. “Once I have the machine assembled and have completed my plan, you and Mei will be free to go.”
“You better not be lying, Dalton.”
“My friend, I can promise you on my mother’s grave that once this is over, you will never see me again.”
Finley frowned. Maybe she was paranoid, but that sounded more like a threat than a promise. Surely Jasper had to suspect that, as well.
“What are you doing in here, anyway?” Dalton asked him. “What were the two of you talking about?”
Finley lifted her head and turned. “Oy, cowboy.”
Both Jasper and Dalton looked at her just as Mei entered the room. Wonderful. The more the merrier. Whoever said that should be made to swallow their own teeth.
“I thought we were going to spar? I’m restless and need to hit something. Your pretty face ought to do.”
Jasper gave her a dubious look—the sort he should give a person he didn’t know well who was asking him to fight. “All right.” Then to Dalton, “Unless you have some kind of objection?”
Dalton smiled that feline smile of his. “Of course not. In fact, I think I’ll watch.”
Of course he would. Finley didn’t care. At least Jasper didn’t have to answer him, and she didn’t have to try and make nice with Mei, for whom she now had conflicting feelings.
She was even more glad she’d worn the loose trousers as she climbed into the square. They made it easier to kick and move. Jasper was fast—blur fast—and she needed every advantage she could, if he decided to use that speed.
She needn’t have worried. As soon as Jasper joined her, and they took a few swings at one another, it became obvious he wasn’t going to use his abilities against her—not because she was a girl, though. She knew that for certain. It was because he didn’t want Dalton to see what he could do—how fast he had become.
They had just begun to find their rhythm—Finley’s muscles grew warm and languid beneath her skin—when the formerly demure Mei began encouraging Jasper. Not just encouraging but instructing him. Instructing him how to put the most hurt into Finley.
“Why aren’t you breaking free?” Mei yelled when Finley got him in a particular hold. “You know how to escape.”
Finley grinned at her. “Maybe he likes it.” Then she released Jasper and danced away, never taking her eyes off the other girl. “You seem to know a lot about fighting. Would you like to take Jasper’s place?” She might have some sympathy for the girl, but it was obvious the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“Yes,” the girl replied with a flash of anticipation in her dark eyes.
Jasper hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
But it was Dalton who took Mei by the arm and stopped her progress. “Sorry, ladies, but I cannot allow Mei to risk sporting bruises at the theater tomorrow.” He gave the Chinese girl an intense glance, but she didn’t look away. “Finley will heal. Won’t you, Finley?”
She had deliberately allowed him to see how fast she healed, so there was no point in denying it. “That’s right.” She couldn’t resist adding, “I could always hit her from the neck down.”
For a second, Finley thought Mei was going to jerk free of Dalton’s grip and leap over the rope. Instead Mei looked from Jasper to Dalton and shook her head.
Oddly enough, Finley was strangely disappointed. At least if Mei came at her, she would have to really fight. Mei would want to hurt her, while Jasper was more concerned with making certain his enhanced speed didn’t become apparent to Dalton. Where was Sam when she needed him? She wanted an opponent who would make her work for her victory.
It really didn’t say much for her character—at least she didn’t think it did—that violence sometimes soothed her in a way nothing else could. Only Griffin had ever managed it—something to do with her “aura” and the Aetheric plane. She didn’t quite understand it and she didn’t need to. For all his bossiness and infuriating tendency to be right, Griffin had become her anchor; the only person she trusted enough to let down her guard around.
They sparred for perhaps another twenty minutes before calling an end to the sweaty production. Her earlier restlessness was gone, and she wanted to send Griffin the information Jasper had shared with her.
She shook Jasper’s hand and thanked him for the exercise, then watched as he left the room with Mei as Dalton commanded. Dalton, she noticed, didn’t bother to look at either one of them—he was staring at Finley.
This was it, she realized. This was when he would make whatever advances he was going to make. She’d known this was coming, ever since she found out that he liked “rough” girls.
It took real effort to keep her spine loose as he approached her—much like she thought a hungry cat stalked a mouse— only she didn’t think Dalton meant her any harm. He had a different set of rules for women than he did for men.
He stood so close to her that every breath threatened to push her chest against his. “You could have pounded him to a pulp. Why didn’t you?”
She arched a brow. Was he serious? “Because we’re on the same side. And because it would be difficult for him to do whatever it is we have to do tomorrow if I busted him up. I don’t always have to win.”