Counterpart (37 page)

Her eyes light upon the ring, her expression twisting into something jealous and ugly. But then, after another few seconds, she removes her hand from my mouth and lets me sit up again. I wipe saliva from the corner of my lips, and return my ring—
mine
—to its rightful place tucked safely beneath my shirt.

Rhona the White rests on her haunches, watching me with the careful attention of a predator, and in that moment, I understand everything.

My birth was always predicated on the death of someone else, but my life doesn't have to be. These clones don't know any better; they weren't shown the kindness Samuel showed me. They weren't fortified by the belief of some, and toughened up by the disbelief of others. They are the spoiled remains of a plan gone horribly wrong. I owe them nothing.

And I owe them everything.

“I'll be the first to admit, this situation isn't ideal,” I tell Rhona the White. “But like it or not, we're stuck with one another. Our futures depend on each other. So put your big-girl panties on and suck it up, buttercup. Life isn't perfect. We all have to do things we don't want to do, and deal with people we don't want to deal with.

“Oh,” I add, almost as an afterthought, “And one more thing: if you ever try to pull something like this again”—I gesture to my sore neck—“I will kick your cloned ass out the door so fast, it's not even funny. Are we clear?”

“You think you're so impressive,” Rhona says.

“No. But the fact you think I'm trying to be proves the opposite point.”

She sneers at me. I counter by lying back down, rolling onto my side, and nesting deeper into my sleeping bag. But I keep my eyes open, watching until Rhona the White's shadow finally retreats. Only then do I release my breath.

“Good night, Rhona,” I whisper. “Sleep well.”

One of us will most likely die in the morning.

To Jasper, my first pick during any postapocalyptic scenario. Especially if there are robots.

If writing a book is hard, writing its sequel is harder. A huge thank you to those who offered lifelines when I needed them the most: Jasper, Missy, Caitlyn, Tasha, Charlie, the Pitch Wars 2014 alumni (ToT forever!), Mom and Dad, Hannah, and Parker. I'm forever grateful for your continued support and belief in me and my writing.

To my agent, Marlene Stringer, who lets me worry about the writing and takes care of everything else: thank you. Your wisdom, levelheadedness, and knowledge of the industry have been invaluable.

To my editor, Anne Groell: I hit the jackpot with you! Thank you for pushing me to write the best story possible, and for being an all-around lovely person to work with. And many thanks to my copy editor, Howard Mittelmark, for fixing all the little things and making me look good. I couldn't ask for a better editorial squad.

On that note, I would also like to extend a heartfelt thanks to the rest of my team at Hydra and Penguin Random House: Erika, Ashleigh, Tom, Steve, and everyone else who made this book possible. You rock.

Finally, to all of the readers who enjoyed
Machinations,
thank you. This book is for you.

Machinations

Counterpart

PHOTO: HAYLEY STONE

H
AYLEY
S
TONE
has lived her entire life in sunny California, where the weather is usually perfect and nothing as exciting as a robot apocalypse ever happens. When not reading or writing, she freelances as a graphic designer, falls in love with videogame characters, and analyzes buildings for velociraptor entry points. She holds a bachelor's degree in history and a minor in German from California State University, Sacramento.

@hayley_stone

hnstoneauthor.com

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