The Girl in the Clockwork Collar

“Mei.” To say he was surprised to see her was an understatement. “How… What are you doing here?”

She set a finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet as she closed the door. She was dressed as she had been earlier that evening, and the Western style seemed odd on her, even though the fabric was Chinese. He was so used to seeing her in more traditional clothing. When they were shut in, she locked the door once more from the inside. Gracefully, she moved toward him, her hair shining in the lamplight. “I had to come see you,” she explained.

“How did you escape your quarters to get the key?”

“The key is on a hook outside the door.” Delicate hands went to the collar around her throat but didn’t quite touch it. “This is my prison. I can move about the house however I wish, but if I try to leave, it tightens.”

Jasper reached out to touch it. “Can’t you just take it off?”

She stepped back, avoiding his hand. “Don’t. If anyone else touches it, it sets off the tightening mechanism. It will strangle me, and you will have to ring for Dalton. I do not want him to know I am here.”

Damn Dalton. Jasper’s jaw tightened. “How long has he had you?”

“Only a few months. He found me in Chinatown. I had gone back to the house.”

By “the house,” she meant Ms. Cameron’s. Donaldina Cameron had been helping girls and women brought over from China for more than twenty years. A lot of the females were sold into domestic slavery or prostitution once they arrived in the city, as they were illegal immigrants. Jasper had worked for Ms. Cameron as a rescuer and, on occasion, a protector. That’s how he had first met Mei—when he rescued her from being sold to a merchant.

The same merchant for whose death he was wanted.

Dalton hadn’t liked that Jasper helped the house. He thought Jasper should talk Mei into convincing some of the girls to work for him instead. He referred to it as “diversifying his business practices.” Jasper had never been above helping relieve a few richies of a little pocket change—he had to eat—but he drew the line at profiting from another’s pain.

“He went to Ms. Donaldina’s?” That was ballsy, even for Dalton.

Mei shook her head, her poker-straight hair sliding about her shoulders. “I was trying to rescue another girl. He found me.”

Jasper’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “Did he hurt you?” He’d kill Dalton with his bare hands if he had to.

Dark eyes widened as Mei gazed at him. “No. He didn’t want me for…that. He only took me because he knew he could use me to get to you.”

And he had been right.

“He put that collar on you to keep both of us in line.”

She nodded. “Yes.” And then, “It’s good to see you, Jasper.”

Despite his frustration and anger, Jasper smiled. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She turned away, but not before shooting him a glance that was as coy as it was shy. Mei stood at the dresser and ran her fingers over his old, battered hat. The Brits called it his “cowboy” hat, but he had never worked with cattle in his entire life, though he had once slept in a train car full of them. Like big dogs, only they stank worse than any hound ever could.

“Did you miss me at all?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied with a frown. It wasn’t the sort of question a fella felt comfortable answering. “Did you miss me?”

Mei tossed a satisfied smile over her shoulder at him before gliding to the bed and leaning against one of the tall posters. “I knew you’d ask.”

“You asked first,” he reminded her with a shrug. “Figured since I was being honest, maybe you would, too.”

“Still as prickly as you always were about your feelings. Yes, I missed you. I missed you very much, Jasper Renn. You left me all alone.”

There was just enough bite to her words to get Jasper’s backbone up. “I left so the law would think I was guilty. I left to protect you.”

“And here we are.” She gestured to the collar around her neck. “Maybe I would have been better protected had you stayed.”

Her accent was thickening. It always did when she was riled up. It used to get to the point where he didn’t understand half of what she was saying, her English would get so bad.

“Mei, you and I both know if I had stayed, they would have hanged me for murder. Is that what you wanted?”

“Of course not!” She glared at him. “How can you ask me such an awful question?”

“Because you’re angry at me for protecting you.” He would not shout, no matter how much he wanted to.

“For all the good it did!” She threw her arms out to her sides. “Look at where we are!”

Jasper drew a deep breath. It wasn’t Mei he was angry at; it was Dalton—and himself. “I’m going to get both of us out of this mess. Promise.”

She actually looked surprised. “Us?” She glanced at him as she moved away from the bed, toward the dresser again. “You are going to get Dalton his device?”

Jasper caught sight of himself in the mirror. His light brown hair stood up in all directions. He raked a hand through the mess but it only made it worse. “Yeah—I’m going to get it for him. What other choice do I have?”

She kept her attention fixed on his hat once more, rather than him. “You could try to escape. Run.”

“And leave you with him?” He made a scoffing sound. “Blossom, you know me better than that.”

The old nickname he’d given her brought color surging to her cheeks.

“You do not owe me anything, Jasper. I do not wish to have the responsibility of your life on my hands.”

“Too bad, ’cause I’ve got yours on mine.”

Her full lips thinned, and then she snatched the shaving mug from the top of the dresser and threw it at him. Suddenly, everything around him slowed as Jasper reached out and snatched the mug from the air.

Gone was her frown, replaced by shock. “You’ve gotten faster.”

“And you’ve gotten crazier,” he replied with a grin. “Come here.”

He set the mug aside as she came toward him. When he opened his arms, she stepped into the embrace, wrapping her arms around him as though she was a human version of the collar she wore.

“Can we do this?” he asked, softly. “The collar…”

Mei shook her head. “As long as you don’t touch it, we are fine. You can touch me.”

Jasper pulled her closer and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger for me,” she whispered against his shoulder. “I can help you escape—tonight.”

He shook his head, his arms tightening around her. Old feelings came rushing back so hard and fast he felt unsteady on his own feet. He had loved her once, and now he knew he had never stopped.

“Don’t talk so loose,” he replied. “I’m not leaving you here. I’ll fix this. Trust me.”