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)
“Uh… no. I guess that covers it.”
“Perfect. Enjoy your evening. And remember, Every Spark Has Its Purpose!”
The face disappears. The screen goes black.
I look over at Jasina. “Wow,” she says, unable to stop the laugh.
“Right?” I simply shrug. “At least we get to stay.”
“Yeah,” she pouts. “But I’ll be here alone. That’s dreary.”
“Oh, I’m sure this meeting with Xi won’t take all day. I’ll probably be back by lunchtime. We’ll take that desert trip then.”
Her smile is wide now. “How fun. This is amazing. I can’t believe it’s actually real.”
Neither can I, to be honest. But I don’t tell her that.
I’m suspicious. I mean, after what happened to me back in Tau City—all the lies. My mother. My father. The Tower. All of it was just a bunch of lies. Why would this place be any different?
It’s cynical, I get it. And not even warranted because Xi has been more forthcoming than anyone I’ve ever met. Except maybe Clara on her way through the tower doors. She wasn’t shy at all about screaming her loathing at me in front of the whole city.
Xi showed me everything about the augmentation. Answered every question. And then, when I was ready to say ‘yes’, he stopped me, and told me to think about it.
Even if letting Jasina live here was the only benefit of being augmented, I’d still do it. It’s enough. Whether I turn into something powerful, like that Tyse guy, or not. Giving her a home like this, when yesterday our prospects where the dark, damp train tunnels of the world we come from, this feels like a true miracle.
The true workings of a god.
The meal is exquisite. Simple food that both Jasina and I are familiar with, but all cooked and presented in fresh, new ways. Five courses in total. First, a single bite of freshwater fish, raw but silken, wrapped in something crisp and paper-thin, resting on a chilled ceramic spoon. I watch Jasina closely for her reaction, completely captivated by her every move and expression tonight. She doesn’t hesitate, lifting it easily, letting it melt on her tongue.
Her verdict? A slow nod, a flicker of approval. “Yum!”
Next up, a delicate cut of mutton, seared rare, paired with something dark and sweet—a reduction of fruit she doesn’t recognize. The scent is rich, smoky, a warmth curling through the air. This time, Jasina tilts her head, pressing her fork lightly against the meat. “Mutton shouldn’t be this soft.” She takes a bite. Her lashes flutter for half a second. “It shouldn’t taste like this either.”
I chuckle, amused and happy with her reaction. So much so, I almost forget to eat the soup. Which comes after the mutton and is a simple, clear broth layered with spice and shaved slivers of chicken.
The main course is beef. Obviously cooked over a flame from the grill marks and slightly charred taste. But it’s got a tangy heat to it. Tell-tale signs of a marinade or a basting. A side of roots and greens, mashed until almost creamy, flecked with something bright and citrusy, sits on the other side of the plate. Maybe meant as garnishment, but it’s also delicious and I eat it all.
Finally, dessert. A dense, honey-sweetened spice cake, served with something frozen and tart on the side. The contrast is sharp, but balanced.
My whole body is buzzing with happiness as I watch Jasina take a small bite. Bits of white frosting stick to her plump lips, forcing her tongue to sweep out, to lick it off.
Immediately, my brain short-circuits.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m thinking.”
She sets her fork down, all mock innocence. “Oh? About what?”
I take my time finishing my last bite of cake. Then I lean in close—close enough that my words are just for her. What I really want to say… what ‘old Finn’ would say… is ‘fucking you’. Preferably from behind so I can slap your ass.
Because that really is what I’m picturing right now.
But I’m ‘new’ Finn, so instead I say, “Dancing.” And then I stand up and offer her my hand.
She takes it, delighted, smiling all the way over to the boring dancefloor where a smattering of couples all sway together to the slow music.
I want to spin her. Make her cheeks go pink with heat. Make her dress swirl out, revealing her legs. And make her hair all messy.
But instead, I offer her my hand and we do the slow, boring dance like everyone else.
Except, with Jasina, it’s not boring. Not at all boring.
Because her head is on my shoulder, and her breath is making heat against my shirt, and her breasts are pushing up against my chest and I love every moment of it.
It’s like one, long hug.
It’s enough.
Enough to make me forget.
Enough to give me faith.
Enough to make me hope.
A family of my own.
One I will not screw up.