Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
She looks dead. At the very least, she’s been drained to empty. Like the women we saw in Delta’s factory. She’s a husk. Gray and lifeless.
My heart thumps, my skin heats up. Rage.
Then… panic.
“What the fuck have you done to her?” I try to get up, but can’t obviously, since I’m literally strapped down by dozens of bands.
Epsilon laughs, pointing to himself. “Me? What have I done to her? My good man, I wasn’t the one who drank her spark! That was… you.”
No. I shake my head. Strainin’ against the bands. “No.”
But all the missin’ pieces of what was actually happenin’ to me today finally fall into place.
Clara. Strapped to a wall. Being harvested of spark.
Me. On a table. Being threaded with spark.
He used her to augment me.
And now she’s dyin’.
“She’s dying,” Epsilon declares. “But I’ll save her.”
“Do it,” I say, my words coming out as a growl. “Save her. Now.”
“He’s uppity,” Luther chants. “Uppity, uppity, uppity!”
“Yes,” Epsilon drawls. “He is rather uppity. But it’s fine.” He waves a hand through the air, as if to accentuate this idea. “It’s fine because he doesn’t understand the game. He hasn’t been told the rules.”
“What rules.” I snarl.
“The rules!” Luther screams. “The rules!”
“They’re very simple.” Epsilon leans down into my neck. His mouth right up next to my ear. “You fight. You win, she lives. You lose, she dies.”
“You’re mad,” I say. “You’re fuckin’ mad. You’ve lost your damn mind. And look at you! You’ve been augmentin’ yourself, haven’t ya? Your face looks like it’s fuckin’ melting! For fuck’s sake, you’re makin’ monsters here. Look at this fool!” I jut my chin, as much as I can under the bindings, towards Luther. “Look at him! He’s not an augment! I don’t care how bright his eyes glow. And for what? Fight club? You get off on makin’ mutants fight each other?”
Epsilon smiles. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Now… are you done? Theatrics over? Because your woman won’t last long without a spark infusion. An infusion only I can give her. And she won’t get that spark infusion until you win a fight.”
I narrow my eyes and growl out each word. “I’m gonna kill you, Epsilon. I’m gonna tear your fuckin’ head off and spit down your goddamn neck.”
“That’s the spirit!” Epsilon yells. “Put him in the cage, Luther!”
25 - JASINA
I’m studying myself in the mirror, shaking my head, amazed at the transformation staring back at me. I started this day looking like a down-city street sweeper with my filthy clothes and dirty face. And now, not that many hours later, I look like a Spark Maiden.
The dress is a high-low evening gown crafted from luxurious ivory silk satin, flowing effortlessly with movement every time I turn. The bodice is structured and corset-style, reinforced with delicate boning for a perfect fit and featuring intricate gold embroidery in swirling, baroque-inspired motifs. Gold hooks descend from the sweetheart neckline, elegantly framing my cleavage before trailing past my navel.
The sleeves are voluminous and off-the-shoulder, made of soft organza—a fabric I only learned about today from the dressing maids when they appeared to run my bath. There’s delicate ruching along the upper arms, adding a touch of old-world romance.
The skirt cascades asymmetrically, with a layered, ruffled hem in the front that gradually lengthens into a flowing train at the back. Beneath the outer layers, a fine crinoline underskirt provides soft volume, keeping the silhouette structured yet ethereal.
If I was given delicate shoes instead of knee-high embroidered boots, I would be ready to go to a gala. But the boots, in a matching champagne hue, featuring intricate beadwork and subtle metallic threading, change everything.
The dress is more traditional. More of what I’m used to, save for the scandalous mini-skirt that hits me mid-thigh in the front.
But the boots give the ensemble weight. It grounds me to this new place of fresh wonders. It makes me feel less like a Spark Maiden and more like a Vagabond Girl.
That’s what the maids told me. That’s what girls like me are called. Girls who like to travel and see places instead of settling down with a man. They are from the upper dimension, so I asked them about it relentlessly.
They didn’t tell me much, kept making these little lock-and-key motions with their fingers in front of their lips. So I took that to mean that Xi has forbidden them from talking about it.
They did gossip about the world though, which I took as a way for them to explain it without answering any of my questions. I heard all about Sophie Beaumont’s boyfriend cheating on her, and Lola Devereaux’s mother, who was thought to have died in a car crash—only to reappear days later, unharmed. Turns out, it was actually her twin sister!
How crazy is that?
And then, some guy named Rafael Montague was stalking some girl named Delilah Vega, who lost her memory after falling off a horse while riding through the woods. Rafael found her, took her to a secret cabin near a lake, and pretended like she was his wife! Luckily, detective Bianca Romano broke all the rules of her department to find clues, and saved Delilah from a fate worse than death just as she was about to marry Rafael for real!