WHEN THEY RETURNED to the mansion, Jo went promptly to the common room to find someone who could give her an update on the status of the wish. The length of time she’d been out of commission—occupied with her own issues—now bordered on selfish. But she and Nico found the main areas of the mansion quiet.

“Everyone must be busy,” Nico observed, already heading over to the kitchen.

Jo had a mug in hand before he’d even procured the beans. “I hope everything is going well.” She looked around the empty room once more. “Do you think we were gone too long?”

“We were hardly gone a few hours. All will be well,” Nico assured her with far more confidence than Jo could muster.

That nagging fear of being useless still sat in the back of her mind. If there was one thing she refused to be in this new life of hers, it was useless. The moment she became useless was the moment her sacrifice meant nothing, and all her magic potential to help the world would be wasted.

“I think I’ll stay here,” she said, as Nico moved to depart. “Just in case anyone needs me.”

“Relax where you’re most comfortable. We’ll find you as needed,” Nico assured her.

“I’m comfortable here. My usual chair is open and there’s this book Eslar lent me that I should really finish.” Jo paused and forced a smile. “Knowing him, if I don’t finish it and give him a proper report, I’ll get a talking to.”

Nico laughed. “Then I shall leave you to it.”

She watched him walk away. There was a downward slope to his shoulders that usually wasn’t there. Was he going to work on the painting of Julia? Jo swallowed the lump that had been lodged in her throat since the church.

After an hour of not really reading (all that clung to her mind was something about a forest clearing and a carving), Jo could take it no longer and wandered back to the Four-Way, walking to the top of each stair and peering down the empty hallways before heading back toward the now-occupied briefing room.

Eslar startled at her entrance, his eyes wrenching away from the Door as if he’d been staring at it for some time. Jo cradled her mostly-empty coffee mug between her hands and leaned in the doorframe, aware of Eslar’s eyes on her as she did so.

“Everything all right?” she asked when it became apparent that he was not going to be the one to break the silence. For a long moment, Eslar merely stared at her; if Jo didn’t know better, she’d have said she was being analyzed. But eventually, he took a breath, letting it out on a sigh and looking away.

“I should ask you the same.” He looked back to the Door. “You wandered off.”

“Nico said he had your permission.” Not wanting to throw Nico under the bus, Jo added quickly, “But maybe I should’ve asked, too.”

“You don’t need my permission, so long as you’re not affecting the Severity of Exchange.”

Damn straight I don’t, Jo wanted to say. Instead she passed her mug from hand to hand and pretended to take a sip. He didn’t seem irked, so Jo let the matter lie. “I take it we weren’t the only ones who left?”

“Wayne has returned to Japan to follow up on a few things,” he said, standing.

“How’s it all going?”

“Let’s find out,” Eslar said, simply, walking towards the double doors back to the mansion and motioning for her to follow. Jo took the last swig of her coffee and did as told, hurrying silently behind Eslar (every one of his long strides was two of hers) until the two of them were standing in front of the common room’s large TV. Eslar grabbed the remote and turned it on, the news station from the last couple of weeks still broadcasting the already-familiar anti-terrorism footage.

Except now, new content flashed intermittently.

“It would seem as though things are going smoothly.”

“Yeah,” Jo replied, though mostly out of reflex; her eyes were still trained on the new updates. After her initial failure, it seemed almost unlikely that things would be going so well now. But Eslar wasn’t wrong; Takako and Wayne had managed to get Samson’s machine into the hands of the right people. Now all they needed to do was wait for it to pick up the inevitable seismic activity, and then the regions would be evacuated.

It seemed so simple. So possible.

But because of that, it also seemed very, very hard to believe.

“I’m going to go give Snow an update,” Jo heard herself say before she’d even properly made the decision to do so. Surely Snow had already heard, possibly even had his own way of keeping up-to-date. But suddenly she found herself almost eager to tell him the news.

She’d helped set things right. They’d managed to set the ball rolling. And somehow, her time with Nico had made something feel far more level inside of her. Hope, that’s what this feeling would be called. It was the calm assurance that everything was going to be okay.

Eslar didn’t say anything when she left, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her out of the common room. She tried to pretend there wasn’t judgment in them.

This time, when she found herself in front of the solid, white door, there was no hesitation before her knuckles were rapping insistently against the wood. She had a reason to be here this time; she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Or at least, she thought she did, until the door inched its way open to reveal the man himself.

All thoughts of the team, the updates, her redemption, the serenity Nico had given her, seemed to flutter out of her mind like a butterfly escaping an outstretched hand. She tried to grasp for it, that reason for being there that had seemed so clear only seconds ago, but all she could think was that he was right there, within her reach. And looking really, really good. A flowing white tunic hung perfectly over the stretch of his shoulders, his toned chest standing out beneath the low-cut ‘v’ of the loose collar. A sinfully tight pair of black slacks wrapped around his legs and thighs like a second set of skin. Jo felt her mouth go dry.

How was it she had no control over herself when it came to this man?

When her traveling gaze finally found its way back to Snow’s face, it was to find an expression of poorly contained amusement and an eyebrow raised accusingly. It wasn’t until then that Jo realized she’d been staring. And not just normal staring, but shameless admiring, possibly even leering. Damn, she might as well have been drooling too.

She felt her face go hot, and she had to force herself not to look away in embarrassment. She cleared her throat, looking over Snow’s shoulder in blatant request. Snow’s face softened a bit, but the amusement still lingered at the corner of his eyes.

Without a word, he stepped to the side, motioning for her to come in.

His room looked just as outlandishly regal as last time, not that she spent much time looking at it after her initial assessment. The moment Snow closed the door and walked back into her line of sight, he once again managed to take up every ounce of her attention. This time, when he looked at her, Jo felt a distinct energy to the gaze, like the prickling in the air of lightning about to strike.

She wanted to touch him, wanted it more than anything. She realized with a heady sort of clarity that it was something she’d been wanting for a long time, possibly even from that very first moment, surrounded by blood on the dirty floor of a backwoods barn in nowhere Texas. Quite possibly, it was something she’d wanted all her life, however impossible that was. Ever since his ethereal presence had slotted so irrevocably into her life, she’d wanted it. She just hadn’t realized how much.

Something on Jo’s face must have given her intentions away, because without preamble or permission (though it would have been easily granted), Snow covered the distance between them and inched himself into her personal space.

Though centimeters still remained between them, Jo could feel the heat of his body as though they were already touching. Eyes never leaving Jo’s face, Snow raised his hands, let his fingers trailed up her arms, keeping just enough space between that she could feel the fabric of her hoodie shift but could not yet feel the press of his touch beneath.

“Do you know what you’re doing here. . . this time?” Snow asked, and his voice seemed impossibly low, rumbling with a velvety warmth that she could feel deep into her chest.

She knew what she’d intended on being here for, initially, but that was as far from her mind as possible when she said, “Yes.”

That centimeter of space between them suddenly felt like a mile-wide chasm, one that Jo was nearly vibrating with desperation to cross.

Snow’s wandering, barely-there touch finally made it to her face; his palm gently, much too gently, rested against her cheek. She leaned into it without thought or care, shuddering against the feel of his thumb stroking an almost tender line across her cheekbone.

“I can never seem to muster reason when you are around. You make me reckless,” he whispered, and she wasn’t sure if she was meant to have heard it, but it settled like a comforting weight around her heart regardless. She knew all too well how he felt.

It took much too long for Jo’s brain to send word for her own hand to rise, to touch back, but when it did, it found a secure place at the nape of Snow’s neck. She could feel his hair brushing against her fingers, felt the slight shift beneath them with each breath he took. If she closed her eyes, she swore she could feel his heartbeat somewhere deep underneath.

She wondered if he could feel hers too. As erratically as it was beating, a heavy thud of rhythm against her ribcage, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

It wasn’t until their noses were practically touching that Jo realized they’d been leaning in, gravitating towards each other like being pulled out of orbit. His lips were so close, all she’d have to do was—

There was no way of knowing who finally covered that last bit of distance, not that it mattered. All that mattered, the only thing in the whole of eternity, was the feel of Snow’s lips finally, finally pressed against her own.

It was like an electrical current arcing across the ether to strike in an impossible way. Like a conduit finally slotting into place.

Finally, finally, finally.

Jo kissed back with a hungry desperation, a whine clawing up the back of her throat as she pressed herself against him. She would probably be embarrassed about that later, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. And with the way Snow’s arm wrapped tight around her waist, pulling her flush against him, she figured the desperation was mutual anyway.

When they broke apart, panting and staring deep into each other’s eyes, it wasn’t in panic and regret, worry and shame. As they held each other’s gaze, Jo’s cheeks flushing at the sight of his kiss-swollen lips, it was to the feel of something wholly unexpected. Something infinitely better.

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist; steely eyes stared back at her in something she didn’t dare hope was fondness that ran deeper than mere lust. On his lips, a soft smile just for her.

When Jo leaned back in for another kiss, heart soaring and giddiness bubbling up in silent laughter, Snow followed.