Shrike

It was Grike who saved her. He had been ordered to keep her safe, and so he did. He strode through the last sputterings of the lightning to where she groveled blindly in the grass, lifted her, and carried her out of London’s path. There, amid dead men and shattered landships, he laid her down and looked at her. As far as he could tell, she was asleep. She reminded him of something, but he could not say what; the dying Tesla gun had brushed him, too; his consciousness faded in and out.

Scrivener’s Moon, page 311, Chapter 31

And then another lash of electricity scoured away even those last strands of memory and he knew only that he was the Stalker Grike. One of his eyes started to work again. He saw vague shapes moving through an ice storm of interference, and watched while they slowly congealed into human figures, lit by flashlights against a sky full of scurrying moonlit clouds. It was raining steadily.

Infernal Devices, Chapter 1, The Sleeper Wakes