The Girl In The Clockwork Collar by Kady Cross Read Free Book Online

the sight of a crowd gathering around them. Damnation.
    “Ye’re not wanted here” came a female voice from behind. “Why don’t ye just go back from where ye come.” It wasn’t a question but a command.
    Finley turned. The girl was about her own height—a little heavier built—with dark hair and bright blue eyes. Black Irish, they called it. Behind her was another girl with dusky skin and an exotic prettiness, which was heightened by the emptiness of her lavender, catlike eyes. She was the real danger here, not the mouthpiece in front of her. Still, Finley didn’t reckon they were in any immediate danger from catgirl.
    “Gladly,” she replied. “As soon as someone tells us where I can find Reno Dalton, we’ll be on our way.”
    “Dalton?” It was the dark girl—the one with the catlike eyes that asked. Her voice was low and smooth, with no trace of hostility, yet Finley felt it in the base of her spine. “What do you want with him?”
    “No offense,” Finley replied, “but that’s personal.” She wasn’t about to give Jasper’s name and have that get back to Dalton.
    The girl nodded. “Fair enough.”
    “She’s probably knocked up with his brat,” the auburnhaired boy sneered, his gaze raking over Finley like a pair of dirty hands.
    The blue-eyed girl stepped forward, flanked by two more who had reddish-brown hair. One of them carried a cricket bat. “We don’t appreciate strangers comin’ into our home, bringin’ their trouble with ’em.”
    Finley stood her ground. She turned her face but not her gaze toward Emily. “Get out of here,” she commanded. “Now.”
    She didn’t have time to see if her friend listened to her or not. A fist came flying out of nowhere. She dodged it but got smacked with the bat for her trouble. Pain exploded in her skull. It also woke up that part of her that wasn’t used to being welcomed just yet. When the next blow came, she deflected it and countered with one of her own, her fist connecting with a jaw. She struck again and again, but for every one she knocked down, there seemed to be two to take their place. Fast as she was, she couldn’t escape them all, and if they got her to the ground she’d be in serious trouble.
    Suddenly, two of her attackers—one of whom had just hit her hard enough in the mouth to make her bleed—jerked back, their bodies spasming as though they were having some sort of fit. Then two more did the same. What was left of the gang around her stopped their assault on her to step back.
    Finley shook her head to clear the ringing in it and lifted her hand to her mouth before raising her gaze. What she saw was enough to make her grin—despite her split lip.
    Emily stood but a few feet away, hands out from her sides. She wore gloves with metal fingertips, which sparked and crackled in the sudden silence.
    “Back off,” she snarled. “Or I’ll give a bit of this to the rest of ye.”
    Finley could have hugged her—if she didn’t think she’d end up like the droolers in the street. Plus, Emily looked mad—really mad.
    “The lot of ye ought to be ashamed of yourselves.” Her voice was strong and clear, despite a tremor of emotion, her accent strong. “Look at you. You left Ireland to escape the violence and troubles there, and now see what you’ve become—bullies who’d gang up on a girl only looking for information. Cowards who think with their fists rather than the minds God gave ’em. If your ancestors could see what you’ve done to the name and pride of Ireland on this land, they’d weep in their graves.”
    A wave of shame washed over Finley, and there wasn’t even a drop of Irish blood in her veins. She glanced around at those who would have beaten her to death just a few moments ago and saw the guilt in their faces.
    Emily glared at them; her eyes, which could never seem to decide if they were blue or green, sparkled with anger. “I’ve never been more ashamed than I am right now. You disgrace our