Arms up, Ada sprang at the woman, clawing at the canister of gas. “Run!” she yelled at Nelly and Henry. “Run!”
But even as the warning left her lips, Henry’s legs folded beneath him. Eyes wide with fear, mouth open in surprise, he melted to the floor. Nelly staggered back a few steps as if she were making for the back of the building, but she only made it a few feet before collapsing.
The last thing Ada heard before her brain ceased to function was an odd, high-pitched laugh.
“Bugger all. That was easy.”
Chapter 26
“Let her move,” Edison prayed. “Please let her move.”
He’d been laying on the cold tile next to Ada’s unconscious form for hours, it seemed. In reality, he had no idea how long it had been since their captors dumped her into the storage closet.
Fingers shaking, he brushed a dark curl off of her face. At least her breathing was deep and regular. The space was too dim to assess her color. Only a sliver of yellow lamplight seeped in from beneath the door, offering just enough light to make out her general details.
Having just been overcome himself, Edison believed she’d be all right. But the sight of her still laying exactly where the two guards had thrown her, threatened to overwhelm him with fear.
A fear like the oozing black poison that made him cringe every time he imagined Robbie waking up in Newgate. Alone.
He shook his head, as if he could shake off the awful, helpless dread.
The raw tang of anger suited him better. He liked fury. It energized him. Invigorated him. Pushed him to action.
He propped himself up on one arm and studied her face, searching for any sign that she was rousing.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He traced a fingertip across her cheekbone. Her skin seemed warm enough. That had to indicate something, didn’t it?
His finger trembled as he drew it down her soft cheek.
“Satan’s arse.” He swore softly and curled his fingers into his palm.
He wasn’t afraid. Fear was for the weak, the incompetent. He had a woman to rouse and an escape plan to form.
He glared at the flimsy door of the storage closet. One blow with his shoulder would splinter the thing wide open. But he’d seen at least three men, each with a revolver in his hand. One looked to be police issue, which could mean their nemesis had corrupt peelers on his payroll.
And he had Ada to protect.
He nudged her shoulder. Her eyes remained closed, but she did wriggle away a few inches, as if he’d annoyed her in her sleep.
At least she was responding.
“Ada,” he said sharply. “Ada, wake up.”
She moaned, rolling away from his voice with the sluggish energy of one still deep asleep.
Having made progress, he persisted. “Sweetheart, come on. Time to get up.”
A soft sound, almost a snore, was her only response.
She had to wake up. Their captor wouldn’t leave them for long. He shivered.
Even if she did rally, the danger was far from over.
Because of him.
He slammed his fist down hard enough to numb the edge of his hand. He shouldn’t have run off.
All because he couldn’t face emotion. Couldn’t face watching Ada walk back into her old life.
Without him.
As if moving would chase away his thoughts, he sat up and took her limp hand in his.
There, in the dark, next to her unconscious form, the feelings hit him like a canon blast. He loved her. Loved her with his whole heart. Loved her with a strength he’d never felt before, as if his soul were hers to command.
“It’s for the best,” he murmured, almost unaware that he was speaking. “You deserve more. You’ll find a better man than me. You will, you know.”
He stared up at the ceiling, at the cobwebs tucked into the corners above the door. The bleak surroundings seemed only fitting.
“I know you don’t believe it, but it’s only because you gave up looking.” He slid his palm against hers. “You deserve a man with an unscarred heart.”
Her fingers twitched.
He looked at her face.
Eyes open and clear with consciousness, she was watching him. He sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to flee. How long had she been—?
Ada struggled up onto her elbows. Though her neck seemed too weak to hold up her head, her gaze was clear. Clear and intently focussed on him.
Edison tried to swallow, but his throat had seized up. He slipped his hand off of hers slowly, carefully, as if yanking away would serve to draw more attention to his ill-timed blathering.
She cleared her throat. “You were saying?”
“How do you feel?”
Ada waved away his question. “You were saying something about my heart?”
He coughed. “Just worrying out loud. You’ve been out a long time.”
Ada considered him for a moment, the corners of her mouth quirked up as if she were working out whether to push for a real answer.
Edison stilled like a cornered mouse, hoping invisibility would ensure she passed him over.
Ada sank back down and put a hand to her head. “My head is pounding.” She frowned. “Chloroform,” she muttered. “It was chloroform.”
“That’s how they got me, too. Bastards.”
“Nelly and Henry!” She bolted upright and immediately groaned as the effort clearly made her head pound. “They were with me. They—”
Edison put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “They’re not here. No good reason to add more hostages. It only leaves more people to guard. More to attempt an escape.”
“Do you think?”
“I’m sure of it.” He squeezed her hand, trying to infuse the gesture with all the confidence he could muster. “I have no doubt it’s just the two of us.”
She shook her head slowly, as if trying to clear it. “Chloroform spray.” She looked up at him. “A strange young woman…”
“A boy, I believe.” He clenched his teeth. “Whoever did this has a street gang in his employ.”
Ada picked at something on her dress. “We’re outnumbered then. By a great deal, I should guess.”
Edison smiled. “That’ll make them over-confident. We’ve faced down their like before.”
Ada jerked her head toward the door. “Guards?”
“Three at least. All armed.”
Ada looked around the empty closet. “And we have nothing at our disposal.”
“That covers it. But I have an idea.” Edison unbuttoned his vest and threw it off, then he attacked the buttons on his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
Edison cupped a hand over her mouth. “Shhhh.” He waited until he felt her relax against him before he let go. “Quicker to demonstrate than explain,” he said, and finished removing his shirt.
He twisted the shirt from cuff to cuff, transforming it into a makeshift rope. When he’d finished twisting the fabric as tightly as he could, he wrapped the ends around his knuckles, and pulled the length taut.
He nodded toward the guards outside. “Might only get one chance,” said softly.
Ada scrambled to her feet, but stumbled sideways, as if her legs weren’t yet steady. The wide-eyed look of panic on her face suggested her stomach was heaving from the effects of the gas.