But then, when she is moaning, and panting, and writhing, and her hair is plastered to her face with sweat, I take her by the shoulders, whip her around, push her against the window so hard, it rattles. And then I lift up all that silk, grab her hair in my fist, and enter her from behind.
We could die when the countdown reaches zero.
And maybe we will.
Then again, maybe we won’t.
But if I have to live in this lie of a world, she’s here for the duration.
She will be my comfort.
She will be my toy.
She will be my reward.
I come, and she comes with me, and the whole time I picture doing this toClara.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Show her, Anneeta. Show her why you need to be forgiven.”
“Tyse!” I’m a little bit shocked at his tone, so I’m not sure what to say here. “What?—”
“Clara. You don’t understand. Go on, Anneeta. Tell her.”
I look down at Anneeta and find her frowning. But it’s more than just a frown, it’s sadness. “What have you got in the book?”
“Show her, Anneeta. Show her what you keep inside that book.”
Anneeta’s frown deepens. Then she takes a big breath, opens the book, and pulls out a piece of paper. She extends her hand, offering it to me.
“What is this?” I take it. “A photograph?”
“My mother.”
“Your mother!” I smile at her, but when I glance down at the picture, the smile drops and my heart begins to race. Because it’s… Imogen. I look over at Anneeta. “Your mother was…” I look over at Tyse. “You knew?”
He’s shaking his head. “I didn’t. I mean, she’s… not right, ya know? You can see it, can’t ya? Her clothes, they’re—it’s just the whole thing is wrong. She’s not addicted to spark, Clara.”
Anneeta stomps her foot here. “That’s not true! I am so!”
But Tyse points at her. And he’s mad. “You’remadeof spark.”
“So is Clara!”
I gasp. “No, I’m not! I mean… I have it inside me but?—”
“You’re made of it! Just likeme!” Anneeta squeals these words. Like a child. Like any child throwing a tantrum. But with this squeal comes a burst of spark so powerful, it crashes towards me as a wave, nearly knocking me sideways.
And also with this squeal comes the blue light in Tyse’s eyes.
“Stop it!” He comes at her, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her. “Stop it right now!”
“You want the augments!” Anneeta screams. “You like them! You miss them! Youwantthem! I’m just giving you what you want!”
He lets go of her and turns to me. “What’s her name?” He points to the picture.
I can’t think for a moment. My mind is doing calculations—Imogen has been gone for nearly ten years, this child is… not ten. So… what exactly is happening here?
