She pursed her lips as she nipped another sliver of glass. “Yes, well, I think you
“This, coming from the girl who thinks the sun rises and sets on Sam Morgan? Bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
She blushed, the pink obliterating her freckles. “Sam wasn’t always a brooder. You, on the other hand, have always welcomed the weight of the world. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero, Griffin. Just see that you don’t end up a martyr in the meanwhile.”
There was nothing he could say to that because she was completely right, and he felt like an arse for it. So he remained silent but not brooding.
An eternity later, Emily finished removing all the glass from Finley’s back and draped a sheet over the sleeping girl. Then she took Griffin by the hand and pulled him over to the bed where the two of them sat side by side.
“You care about her, don’t you?” Emily asked, nodding at Finley.
“I care about all of you.”
“But you don’t want to be kissing Sam or me.”
“Hell, no.”
Emily laughed. “I didn’t t’ink so. So what’s the problem, lad?”
He glanced at Finley’s prone form. A little blood had soaked through the sheet that covered her. It turned his stomach, despite knowing that her wounds had already begun to mend once more. Her body had even tried to start healing around the glass fragments.
“What if it turns out that her darker nature is her true self? What if she decides she’d rather be bad than good?”
The expression on her face spoke volumes; she thought he was an idiot. “Griff, my friend, if she wanted that, she would have gone that way weeks ago. She wouldn’t be with us now.”
“I just don’t know if I can trust her to do the right thing.” He looked away. “I don’t like it.”
“You think I don’t wonder if Sam’s going to run off and get mixed up with the wrong sort again?” she asked. “You think I don’t wonder if someday he’s going to decide that he can’t forgive me for turning him into a mandroid? Everyone has doubts, lad. What you have to decide is if the risk is worth it. Is she?”
He glanced again at Finley, thought of that sharp pain in his chest when he saw the glass in her back—how he’d actually prayed for her to be all right. If Dalton had hurt her, he would have not only brought the house down on the bounder, he would have ripped him apart—just as Sam had threatened.
“Yes,” he whispered. “She is.”
Jasper was very much aware of Sam watching him as he cleaned the pistol he’d managed to take back from Dalton. With any luck he’d be able to retrieve the other, as well. If not, he’d have to hire Emily to build a replacement.
“You got a problem, Morgan?” he asked, without looking up.
“Just wondering what happened to seize up that normally flapping tongue of yours.”
“Maybe it’s the company,” he retorted coolly.
“Perhaps.” The bigger fella didn’t seem the least bit offended. “Or maybe something happened that’s got you all holed up in your head.”
“You mean like being kidnapped and forced to work for a criminal against my will?”
“No. I mean like whatever it was that made you leave your girl behind.”
Jasper stilled, but he still didn’t raise his head. Sam was smarter than he suspected. “She’s not my girl.”
“But she was. Wasn’t she?”
“I thought so. Seems I was wrong.”
“So what happened? She toss you over?”
Jasper’s head came up, and he glared at the darker boy. “It’s none of your damn business.”
Sam’s face lost all traces of humor. “She did, didn’t she? Devil take it. I’m sorry, Renn.”
He buffed the sides of the pistol with a soft, clean rag. “Don’t need your sympathy, Morgan. I was stupid, and I got played. That’s how the world works.”
“You want a torch or a candle, maybe? You’ve got your head so far up your own arse, it must be dark in there.”
For a second, anger burst hard and fast inside Jasper, but then the absurdity—and the truth—of Sam’s remark struck him, and he began to laugh. He laughed until it hurt and beyond. He didn’t even try to stop, because he needed to let his emotions out, and he was very much afraid that if he didn’t laugh, he’d humiliate himself by crying.
When his laughter stopped, he wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands, and glanced up to find Sam watching him with a smile that wasn’t exactly sympathetic or overly friendly but was one of understanding.
“You’re not the first bloke to ever be played for a fool,” Sam reminded him. “I almost helped get us all killed just a short while ago. Remember?”
Jasper did remember. “I thought she loved me,” Jasper heard himself confess. “I guess she doesn’t. I’m not sure that she ever did.”
“Is she the kind of girl you would want to have love you?”
He didn’t have to think about it that hard. “No. She killed a man in cold blood and let me assume the blame— told me it was in self-defense, but she was working for Dalton even then.”
“Love’s like being barking mad,” Sam commiserated. “Makes a body do the damnedest things.”
Jasper regarded him closely. “Like give a man a mechanical heart just to save his fool life.”
Sam went very, very still. “That would be foolish indeed,” he said quietly. “Especially if the idiot didn’t appreciate the effort.”
Until that moment, Jasper hadn’t grasped the depth of Emily’s feelings for Sam. If he had, he might not have flirted with her quite so much. Then again, he might have, if for no other reason than to get under this big brute’s skin.
“Right,” he said, slapping his hands against his thighs. “That’s enough girly talk for me. How ’bout you?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Tell me about Dalton. How many men does he have with him. Any I need to worry about, other than the big one?”
Jasper shook his head. “Little Hank’s a brute, but I doubt he’s a match for you.” Heck, he doubted Dalton’s entire posse would be a match for Sam, but he didn’t say that aloud. No need to cater to Morgan’s confidence.
“It’s the machine we need to worry about,” he said. “Miss Emily could shut it down if she got close enough, but Dalton’s bound to have someone guarding it, so someone would have to take out that person.”
Sam looked thoughtful. “Griff found out he has something of an effect on machines that work with Aether. I didn’t understand all of it, but Mr. Tesla seems to think Griffin could shut the machine down. What about the girl?”
Jasper shrugged. “I can always shoot her.”
Black eyes widened. “Could you do that?”
“Nah.” It wouldn’t help the team to lie. “I couldn’t, and the only person I know who might be able to best Mei in a fight is Finley. I want Dalton.”
“Because he shot Kirby?”
Jasper nodded. Thank God his brother-in-law—tarnation, but that was a hard fact to wrap his head around —was going to be all right. He owed Emily for that. “And other things I ain’t inclined to discuss.”
“Understood.” Sam glanced toward the door. “What the bloody Sunday is keeping them so long?”
“She had a lot of glass in her back.” He felt responsible for Finley’s injuries. He was the one that took them through the window, and he’d only suffered a couple of cuts—nothing like what had happened to her.
Sam shrugged. “Better that than a bullet to the head. Those are much more difficult to come back from.”
“Even for you?” Jasper asked, talking just for the sake of talking.
“If one managed to penetrate my thick skull, I might be able to regenerate provided it didn’t destroy anything vital. I’m not sure, and I’m not terribly anxious to find out.”
Jasper grinned. “I suppose not.”
