by Kady Cross
People stared at her as she got off the lift. Some whispered. Some said things out loud, but none of it was mean. Oh, maybe someone thought ill of her, but she didn’t hear it, and that was all that mattered.
An older gentleman bowed as she walked past. “Enchanting,” he said to her. Cat smiled and thanked him. Then, she looked up, and her smile froze.
Good lord.
In the middle of the foyer stood the singularly most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. His wavy dark blond hair was brushed back from his face in neat waves. His jaw was smoothly shaved. He wore black evening clothes that had been tailored to him so that the jacket showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His shirt was white, his waistcoat and cravat were both ivory. And in his lapel was a single rose almost the exact same shade as her dress.
He looked at her as though someone had hit him with a brick—which she recognized as a good thing. Still smiling, she walked up to him.
“How did you know?” she asked, touching the tip of her finger to the rose he wore.
He didn’t even look. His gaze didn’t leave hers. “It’s your favorite color. Tarnation, Cat. You’re gorgeous.”
She blushed. He was the only one to ever make her do that. “Thanks. So are you.”
Jasper shook his head, looking peevish. “No, you are really... I mean, you’re always beautiful, but you... You’re an angel.”
Cat normally would have laughed at such praise and called him a liar, but for that one night she was going to believe every nice thing he said to her. She wanted to look back on this moment years from now and smile at the memory.
When he offered his arm, she took it, and squirmed a little under the weight of his stare. Admiration shone in his moss-colored eyes, and he obviously didn’t care if she, or anyone else, saw it.
Outside, a lacquered carriage sat at the curb, complete with liveried driver and twin automaton horses. Both of these horses were silver in color and beautifully embossed with winding ivy vines. The vines were also in the crest on the door. The driver hopped down and opened the door.
“Get in,” Jasper suggested when she didn’t move.
She knew her eyes had to be the size of saucers, and she wasn’t wearing her spectacles. “Really?”
He grinned. “Do you like it? I thought about a steam carriage that I could drive myself, but this seemed more pretentious.”
She laughed. “It’s gorgeous. It’s really ours?”
“I borrowed it from Griffin. It’s ours for the night. Now in you get.”
He didn’t have to say it again. Cat allowed the driver to hand her into the vehicle, and Jasper followed on her heels. The driver shut the door, and in a few minutes they were on their way to Covent Garden.
Jasper waited until the carriage was in motion before kissing her senseless.
“I’ve been waiting all day to do that,” he said.
Oh, they were digging a deep hole and Cat didn’t care. “Me, too.”
His bright gaze roamed over her. “Did you wear this just for me?”
She nodded. “Did you?”
“You know full well I did. I feel like that monkey we saw performing on the street, remember that? That fella had him all trussed up in a suit.”
Of course she did. It had been right after they’d met and started doing whatever it was they were doing. “You’re much cuter than that monkey.”
“That was a pretty dang cute monkey.”
She grinned. “So are you.”
He kissed her again. In fact, he kissed her all the way to Covent Garden, but he was mindful enough not to muss up her hair, which she found oddly sweet. She used to mock people who treated her as feminine or delicate, because there was nothing delicate about her, but now she could see why some women went out of their way to get attention. It was nice to be treated like something special.
“We’re here,” Jasper said as the carriage came to a halt. Cat could see the door to Pick-a-dilly Circus through the window. A small crowd of people were on their way inside.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to go in. Didn’t want to leave the carriage. Part of it was she wanted to stay locked up with him, but another part was worried people would say things about the two of them being together. Then Jasper opened the door and stepped out. He turned and offered her his hand. She couldn’t just sit there like an idiot.
“Let’s go find that sister of yours.”
She put her gloved hand in his and stepped out of the carriage. A tendril of dread wrapped around her heart. Part of her hoped Sparrow wasn’t there just so they’d have to come back, because if her sister was there, then Cat’s adventure in London would be over, and she’d be on her way back to New York, sister in tow.
And she’d probably never see Jasper Renn again.
Chapter Five
His Aether pistol dug into his hip.
Jasper was hard-pressed to care, however. The reason the weapon dug into him was because Cat was pressed up against him, watching the performances with wide eyes and a smile on her lips, showing just the slightest hint of fang. She was a strange girl, a peculiar creature, and he adored every unusual inch of her. No one could make him as happy or drive him as mad as she could. For the first time since returning to London, he felt as though the pieces of his life finally fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle.
Maybe he’d go to hell for it, but he hoped they didn’t find Sparrow at the circus. The longer Cat stayed in London the harder it would be to say goodbye, but he didn’t want to say goodbye just yet, either. More time—that was all he wanted.
But fate was cruel, and just when he thought he might get his wish, the second-to-last act of the night began. It was Sparrow. He knew it even from a distance, because she looked very much like Cat, even in a brightly decorated mask that covered the upper half of her face. Her costume was snug—somewhat revealing but not outrageously so.
She climbed up the tall ladder on the right side of the stage, while a young man climbed the one on the left. The platforms they stepped onto were so high that a fall would surely kill them. Jasper realized this just as the fellow wrapped his hands around a trapeze swing and jumped.
A few gasps rose up, but that wasn’t the exciting part. The man swung over the stage, building momentum, and then Sparrow grabbed a swing on her side and swung out, as well.
Cat’s fingernails—which were also sharp claws—dug into his leg. He winced and put his hand over hers. Immediately she relaxed, and the pain in his thigh eased. At least she hadn’t ripped through the fabric of his trousers.
Sparrow swung and swung and then...she let go. She spiraled and twisted through the air like a leaf on the wind, and then, just when it seemed she might plummet to her death, she reached out her arms, as did her companion, and their hands locked together.
The audience gasped loudly. Cat actually made a little noise in her throat that sounded like a meow. God, she was strange.
God, he loved her.
That realization was like receiving the butt of a pistol to the head, no denying that. He loved her? Loved Cat? No, that was impossible. It was ridiculous. It was foolhardy. It was...
It was true. And it had been true since the first time he met her. That empty feeling he’d carried around with him when he came to London wasn’t about losing Mei or escaping Dalton, or leaving his family and life behind. It had been about losing the one person who understood and accepted him just as he was. And it was why he hadn’t felt right since returning from the States this last time, because the only time he felt right was with her. He should have stayed in New York with her and not come back to London, but Dalton would come for him, and he couldn’t let Cat be another casualty of the outlaw’s hate, like Mei had been.
What was he going to do? He tried desperately to come up with an answer, but then Cat’s hand was on his and s
he squeezed hard.
“Oh, lord,” she whispered.
Jasper turned his attention to the ring. Sparrow was by herself, spinning and twirling through the air between two swings that were anchored in place. She threw herself between them with wild abandon, swooping and diving, somehow seeming to defy gravity and death itself with her graceful and awesome daring.
Of course he should have known that any girl named Sparrow could probably fly—or give the illusion of it. There was no denying she was more than human, though it could be passed off as extraordinary talent and not an evolutionary mutation. No one in this audience cared why she could do these things—they just appreciated and were in awe of it. They’d talk about it and say it had to be a trick, maybe. Or they’d say that she was just incredible, but no one was likely to call her a freak, not like they would if she was anywhere but inside this building.
Maybe Pick-a-dilly was a little safe haven for the evolved people of the world.
Sparrow and her partner did a couple more insane stunts, and then the girl did one final bit on her own. She wound herself around the swing as it sailed through the air, drawing gasp after gasp from those watching. Then she landed back on her platform. Just when it seemed as though the act was all done, she backed up, stepping as far back on the opposite end of the platform as she could. Then she ran toward the edge, and when she got there she launched herself into the open air high above the ring.
Cat’s breath caught in her throat—Jasper heard it.
The girl glided through the air—flew. That was the only way to describe it. She soared like a bird buoyed by the wind.
There were several large fans beneath her. He had thought they kept the performers cool and dry so they didn’t sweat and slip, but maybe they were also there to give her lift? It didn’t matter, and it didn’t make what she did any less dangerous. He held his own breath until she hit the opposite platform and somersaulted across it.
The audience went wild. Cat jumped to her feet and clapped for her sister. She hooted and cheered, as well. Sparrow stood on the platform and beamed as though she was made of pure light. Once, maybe twice in his life had Jasper ever seen joy like that.
“She’s amazing,” Cat enthused. “Did you see her, Jas? Wasn’t she amazing?”
He put his arm around her waist and gave her a little squeeze. “She sure was. Must run in the family.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t argue. He grinned.
They sat again for the final act, which consisted of a young girl dancing with fire. It was a wonder she didn’t go up like a roman candle.
Afterward, they made their way backstage along with a large group from the audience. The area was packed.
“How are we going to get in?” Cat asked.
“Easy,” he replied, and stopped an older woman he recognized as someone in charge.
“Oi,” she said sharply. “What do you want, cowboy?”
So she knew who he was. Interesting. He gestured at Cat. “We’d like to see Sparrow.”
The woman wasn’t stupid. She recognized Cat as soon as she looked. “I’ll be jiggered. You’d be Cat! We’ve ’eard so much about you, darlin’! So very much. Right proud is our girl of her sister. You two follow me.”
Jasper grinned triumphantly and leaned down to whisper in Cat’s ear as they followed the woman. “I think she was flirting with me.”
He got an elbow in the ribs for his teasing.
The woman led them to a room at the end of a wide hall. There were a bunch of younger girls gathered out front.
“What are you lot doin’ out ’ere?” the woman demanded.
One of the girls, who he recognized as a performer from earlier in the show, looked nervous. In fact, they all did. They traded helpless glances with one another.
“We were told not to say anything,” one piped up. Jasper noticed that she and the girl beside her were actually twins, and that they were joined together at the hip—literally. They were the Siamese twins who had performed earlier, as well. “But I don’t care. Sparrow’s in there.”
Beside him Cat stiffened.
“With ’oo?” the woman demanded.
The girls traded more looks. And the same one confessed again, “Lord Blackhurst. He told us to wait out here and he’d give us all twenty pounds. He said he just wanted to talk to her.”
Oh, no.
Cat turned to him. “Jas?” She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was going on. Blackhurst. Damnation. That man was bad news.
Jasper tried the knob. The door was locked. “Do you have a key?” he asked.
The woman nodded. “In my office. I’ll go get it.”
That wasn’t time they had to waste. He knocked on the door. A man’s voice said, “Go away!”
Cat leaned in. “Sparrow?”
“Cat!” came the answering cry—and it was a cry.
Jasper didn’t think, he simply acted. He drew back his foot and kicked it into the door as fast as he could.
The door exploded inward as pain drove up his leg. Cat immediately ran in. Wincing, Jasper looked in as the girls gathered in front of him.
Sparrow stood by a desk, her costume torn, watching her sister stalk her would-be attacker with eyes that were wide and dark in her pale cheeks.
Lord Blackhurst was said to be handsome, but then so was Satan. He smirked at Cat, as though amused by her. He wouldn’t be amused when she laid open his face.
“Sisters,” Blackhurst said rather mockingly. “Had I known there were two of you I would have waited.”
Cat hissed at him. The man arched a brow. Then he looked down and saw her claws—which had extended from her fingers.
“Cat!” Sparrow cried again.
Cat turned her head to look at her sister. Jasper saw the earl draw back his fist.... He leaped into action. He didn’t care who saw him move. He thought only of Cat. Blackhurst wouldn’t hesitate to hit her, or any other woman. And he’d hit her hard. She was a scrapper, his girl, but Blackhurst also had a walking stick with him, which Jasper recognized as the kind that concealed a sword. He wouldn’t think twice about injuring her, or perhaps killing her. And he wouldn’t go to jail, because he was a peer of the realm and he’d say she attacked him.
Everything around him slowed as he moved—as though everyone became a statue. One second he was at the door and before the next one was up, he had inserted himself between Cat and Blackhurst, grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand and pulled his pistol with the other. He shoved the muzzle of the weapon under Blackhurst’s jaw.
The man blinked in confusion as time caught up with Jasper.
“Don’t.” Jasper shoved a little harder on the pistol. “Move and I’ll blow your damn head off.”
“You’d hang,” the earl sneered.
Jasper tilted his head. “You’d still be dead.”
A strong, slender hand curved around his forearm. “Jas, don’t.”
He didn’t look at her. “He’d deserve it, Cat.”
“He surely would, but you wouldn’t deserve to hang for doing the world a favor.”
“Is Sparrow all right?”
“She is.”
And he knew that it had to be truth, because if it wasn’t she would have already torn the bastard to shreds. Still, he held the pistol where it was for a few seconds longer. Sweat trickled down the older man’s brow and fear shone in his dark eyes. That was going to be all the satisfaction Jasper would get from the altercation. He wasn’t going to let him go because it was the right thing, or even because he might hang for it. He was going to let the man go because Cat asked it of him.
He lowered the gun. “Time for you to leave,” he informed the earl through clenched teeth.
Blackhurst glared at him, all traces of fear gone. “You’ll pay for this.”
/> Jasper smiled at him. “Someday, when there are less witnesses, so will you.” Cat grinned, as well, revealing her fangs. They both stepped back to let the man leave.
“Oi,” said the woman who had brought them there. “From now on, if that bastard shows ’is face round ’ere again, you don’t let him alone with anyone. Understood?”
The girls, who were all clustered around Sparrow, nodded.
The woman gave a curt nod. “Good.” Then she turned to Jasper. “You owe me a door, mister.”
He gave her his card. “Send me a bill.”
“Don’t fink I won’t,” she warned and tucked the card into her corset. Then she walked out, leaving them alone with a bunch of girls as she yelled for everyone clustered around the door to stop ogling and get back to work.
Jasper put his arm around Cat’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She frowned at him. “Me? Yeah, I’m good. If he had hurt her I wouldn’t be fine at all.”
And neither would Blackhurst. He’d seen firsthand what Cat’s claws could do to someone who deserved to feel them. “You want me to take you and the girls home?”
Cat nodded. “Thanks.”
She was pulling away from him already—he could feel it. She’d done what she set out to do and she wouldn’t be staying in London any longer than she had to. She’d probably have them on the first dirigible out tomorrow if she could book passage.
It hurt to breathe. Hurt to think. This is what a broken heart feels like.
Cat gathered up the girls once they all got their coats, and led them outside. They stuffed everyone into the carriage and then she and Jasper climbed up to sit on the bench with the driver. Cat gave the driver the address of the boardinghouse where the girls lived.
It was a cool night, so Jasper took off his tailcoat and put it around Cat’s shoulders. They didn’t speak, but they held hands for the short drive. When they stopped in front of a respectable-looking redbrick house, he turned to her.
