Read Online Sparked (The Metal Bones Series Book 1) by Sheena Snow - Free Book Online
Authors: Sheena Snow
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his Achilles’ heel, hitting my face and burning my arms. The white of his eyes turned lime green and then white again, spazzing back and forth. Smoke poured out from his mouth and ears. His body jerked one last time and everything shut down. He crashed to the floor as Robotatouille rolled out from under him. The smoke hissed from his ears and mouth as he laid there.
His hair was a deep chocolate color that matched his bronzed skin but his eyes, they were dark. From the outer corner to the inner, everything was black.
Robotatouille leaned over the robot and closed the intruder’s eyes. I sat back on my heels. The moonlight reflected off the robot’s face, revealing perfectly handsome, unthreatening features. Now he looked nothing more than a sleeping giant.
A sleeping giant.
“Vienna,” Dad whispered and pulled me into his arms.
My eyes were glued to the dead robot on the floor. The one I had killed.
I had killed.
“Dad . . . I.”
He hushed me. “It’s going to be okay now.” He held me close and put his head on top of mine. His touch didn’t make anything better. It couldn’t take away the hole inside. It didn’t change the fact that I had killed someone. I had killed a robot. I was the reason his eyes turned black, his body convulsed, and smoke blew through his ears. Had it felt pain? I pinched my eyes shut. I felt hollow inside.
I had killed it. My soot-covered arms rubbed against Dad’s freshly pressed suit.
“I’m sorry.” I eased back.
“Vienna.”
Dad waited for me to look up at him. His eyes were blurry. “You know that I love you, right?” Dad held me tighter to him.
I had always thought Dad loved me but it was different to know for sure. Dad, Dad loved me. I hugged him back. His love was enough to fill the emptiness death had marked upon me. Dad loved me in spite of what I had done, in spite of who I had become. It was enough, for this moment.
I never thought death would affect me this way, especially not the death of a robot, a thing I had once considered nothing more than functioning pieces of metal.
But they were more than functioning pieces of metal. Robotatouille was more than functioning pieces of metal. He had feelings and quite possibly thoughts and maybe had even so much more than we as humans could even be capable of. And no one knew.
I cried in Dad’s arms. I cried for his love. I cried for the secrets the world might never understand. I cried for the robot I killed that may have been so much more than I could ever understand. And I cried because I had just ended what might have possibly been another form of life.
I probably took away from him something he could never get back. No more mistakes for him to undo, no more sorry’s for him to say, no more hugs and kisses for those he might have loved because I took them all. I took them all away. All the memories, all the laughter, all the tears, gone, plunged into nothingness.
The sleeping giant lay there as proof of what I had done. As a reminder to all who witnessed that I would now and forever be: Vienna Avery, the killer.
I pushed myself further into Dad’s arms, wanting his love to supersede everything else. And it did. Dad’s arms clutched around me, his chin stroking my head and his hands twirling my hair. The little touches, the little sensations, the little gestures of love restored warmth to my body. I clung to him, absorbing his love, allowing it to fill the emptiness. It felt wonderful.
Dad loved me.
Robotatouille cleared his throat, diluting the moment. “We have to talk.”
His voice sounded so human, and I shivered in Dad’s arms.
Dad rubbed his chin against my hair again. “I know.”
“You . . . You can talk?” I should have known.
“As you’ve figured out, I can do a lot more than talk.”
I know. You have feelings.
Robotatouille leaned over the dead robot, taking survey of him.
Dad helped me to my feet and then also bent down to look over the dead robot. “What are we going to do
His hair was a deep chocolate color that matched his bronzed skin but his eyes, they were dark. From the outer corner to the inner, everything was black.
Robotatouille leaned over the robot and closed the intruder’s eyes. I sat back on my heels. The moonlight reflected off the robot’s face, revealing perfectly handsome, unthreatening features. Now he looked nothing more than a sleeping giant.
A sleeping giant.
“Vienna,” Dad whispered and pulled me into his arms.
My eyes were glued to the dead robot on the floor. The one I had killed.
I had killed.
“Dad . . . I.”
He hushed me. “It’s going to be okay now.” He held me close and put his head on top of mine. His touch didn’t make anything better. It couldn’t take away the hole inside. It didn’t change the fact that I had killed someone. I had killed a robot. I was the reason his eyes turned black, his body convulsed, and smoke blew through his ears. Had it felt pain? I pinched my eyes shut. I felt hollow inside.
I had killed it. My soot-covered arms rubbed against Dad’s freshly pressed suit.
“I’m sorry.” I eased back.
“Vienna.”
Dad waited for me to look up at him. His eyes were blurry. “You know that I love you, right?” Dad held me tighter to him.
I had always thought Dad loved me but it was different to know for sure. Dad, Dad loved me. I hugged him back. His love was enough to fill the emptiness death had marked upon me. Dad loved me in spite of what I had done, in spite of who I had become. It was enough, for this moment.
I never thought death would affect me this way, especially not the death of a robot, a thing I had once considered nothing more than functioning pieces of metal.
But they were more than functioning pieces of metal. Robotatouille was more than functioning pieces of metal. He had feelings and quite possibly thoughts and maybe had even so much more than we as humans could even be capable of. And no one knew.
I cried in Dad’s arms. I cried for his love. I cried for the secrets the world might never understand. I cried for the robot I killed that may have been so much more than I could ever understand. And I cried because I had just ended what might have possibly been another form of life.
I probably took away from him something he could never get back. No more mistakes for him to undo, no more sorry’s for him to say, no more hugs and kisses for those he might have loved because I took them all. I took them all away. All the memories, all the laughter, all the tears, gone, plunged into nothingness.
The sleeping giant lay there as proof of what I had done. As a reminder to all who witnessed that I would now and forever be: Vienna Avery, the killer.
I pushed myself further into Dad’s arms, wanting his love to supersede everything else. And it did. Dad’s arms clutched around me, his chin stroking my head and his hands twirling my hair. The little touches, the little sensations, the little gestures of love restored warmth to my body. I clung to him, absorbing his love, allowing it to fill the emptiness. It felt wonderful.
Dad loved me.
Robotatouille cleared his throat, diluting the moment. “We have to talk.”
His voice sounded so human, and I shivered in Dad’s arms.
Dad rubbed his chin against my hair again. “I know.”
“You . . . You can talk?” I should have known.
“As you’ve figured out, I can do a lot more than talk.”
I know. You have feelings.
Robotatouille leaned over the dead robot, taking survey of him.
Dad helped me to my feet and then also bent down to look over the dead robot. “What are we going to do
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