Whispers, then giggles and cheers slam into my awareness. We aren't being watched by Troika, but we're certainly being watched by people. Killian and I break apart, and both of us are panting. His gaze remains hot on mine, and my cheeks flush.
"Let's get out of here." He grabs my hand and leads me away from our audience, zigzagging around the tables. On the sidewalk, his pace increases, his stride long and fast.
"The Buckler--"
"Trust me. I'm not ready to die. I'll avoid the borders."
"Are your Flankers nearby?" I search the shadows. "Does your realm have an Eye? Is your boss watching you?"
"I told Myriad you might not show up if too many MLs were in the area. And right now, the Buckler is blocking me from my boss." He throws a wicked grin over his shoulder, and I swear my bones melt. "I think I hoped you'd come."
I'm in big-time trouble. That grin...
It's the beginning of my undoing.
If anyone has the power to hurt me, it's Killian. Since we met, he's had a strange hold on me, as if we're somehow linked.
Could he be the fox?
The stray thought knocks the air from my lungs. Killian may have changed, may love me, may be willing to die for me, but even at his best he believes winners are adored and failures are abhorred. He craves the attention and affection he never received as a child. Something I understand.
My parents were good to me...at first. The older I became, the more involved they became in their work. Dad was a representative in the House of Myriad, helping to pass realm laws for humans. Mom had her paintings. One day, I woke up, cooked my own breakfast and realized I had been raising myself for years.
They spent time with me only when I required discipline, and the knowledge had hurt. Badly. I'd become an afterthought to the people who were supposed to love me.
At sixteen, I became a bargaining chip.
Because of my supposed Fusing with a Myriadian General, the realm offered my parents more money, more fame--but only if I made covenant.
I wasn't a daughter. I was a key.
The look Killian gives me is fraught with anger and sadness, as if he's reading my mind. "I once asked you to trust me, no matter what. I asked for a good reason. You said you did. You said you would. Have you changed your mind?"
Elizabeth would say he began working on my downfall at the very beginning of my Everlife. After all, what better moment to set me up for failure?
"No," I say. "I haven't changed my mind." So I had a doubting thought. So what? I'm not going to entertain it any longer. I'm not going to allow it to grow into a worry.
It could be foolish to trust him so completely, yes, but I'm going to do it anyway, just as I promised. This boy has more than proved himself.
The alternative? Walking away from him without knowing what could have bloomed between us.
"Good." He stops in the middle of the sidewalk to cup the side of my face. "Just so you know, hurting you isn't on today's agenda, lass."
"Oh, so it might be on tomorrow's menu?" I tease.
"I'm planning to hurt you never, yeah?"
I lean into his touch and nod. He gifts me with a soft, swift kiss.
"You do realize we are making our relationship happen, right?" Step out of darkness and into Light, Killian. "Not Fate. Us."
"No more talking." He leads me to the alley. To the spot I first appeared. Grinning, he pushes me against the wall. "We have better things to do."
I gasp as I meet the cool brick...but the hot male in front of me makes me gasp even harder.
His hands settle on my face again, his grip strong but gentle. "You cause me nothing but trouble, lass. You do realize that, right?"
I melt against him. "I thought we had something better to do with our mouths."
"Oh, we do." His eyes sparkle as he presses his mouth against mine.
I welcome him, opening. Our tongues thrust together, and this time, we aren't restrained. We take and give, take and give, the kiss hard and aggressive. The sensations return and redouble, leaving my knees quaking. His breath is my breath, and my breath is his.
Here, in this moment, we exist for each other.
I'm on fire for him. I'm throbbing, aching.
He groans and bites at my bottom lip, staking a claim. "With you, I always want more." He slides his hands under my thighs to heft me up. In an instant, he becomes my anchor.
I wrap my legs around him, clinging to him.
The earth moves--
No, no, it merely shakes, but Killian holds me upright.
"The Buckler is down. We can be seen here," he says, and kisses me again.
I don't know how he does it, but he manages to push a series of buttons on his keyboard without breaking our kiss, whisking us both to--
I lift my head, panting as I take note of my new surroundings. A cave. Our cave. The one in the Urals, a few miles from the asylum.
Soon after my escape from Prynne, I had to fight three giant brutes intent on...well, it doesn't matter anymore. I'm scrappy, even wily, but at the time, I was also freezing, not to mention weak from starvation and a recent beating. Killian found me and carried me here, where he patched my wounds.
That was the day I learned about his Shell and his status as a Myriadian Laborer.
A moment of panic. Does he know how close we are to Dior? Then I calm. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. He doesn't have to be near her to insist I return her to Myriad, and yet he remains focused on me.
A frigid wind whistles outside the cavern walls. Not that it matters with our Shells. He pulls a switchblade from his pocket. Instinct sends me rearing back. He frowns at me and stabs the blade into his left arm.
I suck in a horrified breath. "Stop! You're hurting yourself!"
"No, I'm disabling my comm." Beautiful Lifeblood trickles from the wound. "But feel free to kiss me better."
"How about I kick you worse?"
With a mock growl, Killian stabs the blade into my left arm. I feel--
A slight prickle. "That was anticlimactic."
He chuckles as he wrestles me to a pallet of soft blankets and pillows. When he pins me, a hank of dark hair falls over his brow.
"No one can see us now," he says. "I can do whatever I want to you..."
I lick my lips. "Oh, yeah? So what are you going to do?"
"This." He tickles me, and I burst into laughter.
"You're a closet romantic," I say, brushing my fingertips over his jawline.
His eyes are hooded, his lids at half-mast. "For you. Only you."
Not just pretty words, but beautiful, exquisite. "Never, under any circumstances, hurt yourself for me."
He gives another mock growl. "I'll do what I want, when I want. You're not the boss of me."
I snort. "How long have you been planning to tell me that?"
"Weeks."
Now I smile at him. "Have you been planning this little getaway just as long?"
"Longer."
Ann-nn-nnd I fall even deeper in love with him. Just like that.
"It's one of the reasons I had to enlist Sloan's help," he adds. "I kept disabling my comm and needed a believable excuse."
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. "So she knows everything you're doing for me, and you seriously, without any doubts, trust her?"
"I do."
Still. My earlier nervousness returns. To place our future in the hands of my murderer... "Killian..."
"No. No more talk about Sloan. I want to talk about us...about you. You undo me, Ten." A raw admission, his voice low and husky. "You fight for what you believe in with unmatched passion. You fight for the people you believe in. You even fight to help and save your enemy. I've never met anyone like you, with a heart big enough to love a boy who has done such vile things."
Tears well. "We are not our pasts."
"See." He nips at my lips, and pleasure zings through me. "Big heart."
We kiss again, and it isn't long before I'm caught up, swept away, and he is the only life ra
ft. When his hand slips under my shirt to tease me, I writhe against him, already hungry for more. Every caress ignites desire for another. He knows just how to touch me, just how to stroke and knead to drive me to a fever pitch, plying the Shell with maximum sensation.
Even though our realms could get a lock on us at any time--maybe? possibly?--I can't keep my hands off him. I learn him. Every ridge of muscle in his Shell. Every inch of silken skin. Every masculine nuance that makes him different from me.
But I wish I could feel him. The real Killian.
He groans when I do something he likes, and he moans when I do something he really likes. At the same time, he makes me groan and moan. He knows my body in ways I never have. He knows where I'm sensitive, and where I ache most.
He's panting as he lifts his head and meets my gaze. Shadows and light flicker over his features; finally the dark captures the corners of his mouth. A mouth pulled taut with strain.
"All right, lass. We need to stop."
Noooo! Gimme! We need to continue.
My fingers comb through his soft, soft hair before settling on his jaw. So strong, with prickly stubble that tickles my skin. I'm trembling. "You're...right." I don't know where I find the strength to halt our interlude. "I don't want our first time to be with Shells."
More than that, I want to give him a reason to live.
His eyes glitter down at me. "And I don't want to go further until our futures are decided."
Do I dare hope? "You mean until you've officially defected?" To survive, he needs to defect.
He rolls to his side and tucks me against him. "Until I know for sure I will defect."
"You will." I wiggle, settling in, and trace a fingertip down his chest. "I'll encourage you with a kiss every day if I must." I heave a heavy sigh. "Oh, the things I do for love."
"Like you wouldn't enjoy every second of my encouragement." He puts me in a headlock and rubs the crown of my head until I beg for mercy.
Mercy he grants. We resettle on the blankets. As I catch my breath, he scrubs a hand down his face and says, "I'm sorry I shot you."
An unexpected laugh bubbles up. How quickly we can go from kissing to wrestling to apologizing. It's an odd segue, but I can dig it. "You're forgiven. Your heart was in the right place."
"Exactly right." His grip tightens on me, as if he fears I'll float away. Leaning over, he gently runs my earlobe between his teeth. "Ask me anything, and I'll tell ye the truth."
Shivers overtake me. Carte blanche with Killian Flynn? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. "Has a court date been set for my mom?"
"Not yet. But Levi has agreed--"
"You spoke with Levi? How? When?"
"Yes, I've spoken to him. Several times. He sometimes shows up when I'm out on a mission. Just boom, there he is, in my face. Anyway," he grumbles. "Levi has agreed to find a Barrister for your mother's case."
I'm thrilled. But why hasn't Levi told me?
What else has he been keeping from me?
Deep breath in...out... Okay, I'll deal with Levi later. "Thank you for everything you're doing for her. And my dad? How is he?"
"He's being trained as a Laborer, but not with the new arrivals. He has a private tutor because he's on the fast track."
I'm not surprised. At the end of his Firstlife, my dad's love for me--if he ever really loved me--had darkened into hate. He blamed me for the loss of his fame and fortune, and paid to have me killed.
The memory stings.
I trace the image etched into Killian's wrist. The ten points in Myriad's brand.
"All right. Fair is fair. Ask me anything, and I'll answer honestly," I say, already dreading what he'll want to know.
He doesn't hesitate. "It's time you fessed up. How badly do you want to lick my tattoos?"
I cover my mouth to stop my laugh, but tendrils slip out. "That's what you want to know? Fine. The answer is badly. Terribly. Madly. Are the tattoos on your spirit, too?" I've only seen his spirit from the neck up.
"You'll have to wait and find out. By the way, your Shell's pimples are cute."
I slap his hand away. "You dirty rat! How dare you mention my Shell's flaws."
"Your Shell's cute flaws."
I slap his chest now. "I am so close to biting off your tongue."
He barks out a laugh, and the genuine display of amusement warms me from head to toe. "You need my tongue more than I do, lass. But go ahead. Do it. I'll just grow a new one."
Yes, I've seen him do that very thing. The day I experienced Firstdeath, in fact.
We both sober, reminded of the harsh reality of our situation. He turns his head to peer into my eyes--to peer at me as if I'm a treasure he can't live without.
"Being without you...it's been harder than I expected," he says.
"I know. I hate being without you."
He rolls on top of me, kisses me again, kisses me hard and deep and thorough, until I'm panting and shaking and aching, desperate for more. For him. Only him.
"Request a court date," I say, close to begging him. "Join me in Troika. You aren't happy in Myriad."
Features ragged, tortured, he shakes his head. "I can't leave yet."
"You can!" I have to reach this boy. "Killian... I know you believe in Fusion. I know you think your mother's spirit is Fused with a human, but Myriad is wrong. Troikan spirits enter into the Rest after Second-death and Myriadian spirits... I think they enter Many Ends. Spirits never die, right?" I rush out before he can protest. "After Second-death they have to go somewhere, and there's a connection between Myriad and Many Ends. Why else would there be a connection?"
He stiffens, but he doesn't argue with me. And I think... I think I'm finally making progress.
One by one...
"I don't know if Myriadians end up in Many Ends after Second-death," he rasps. "You saw no proof of that when you escaped, and I'm not sure how it would work. But I do know Fusion is a lie. When both my General and my Leader refused to tell me my mother's name, pretending they had to jump through hoops to get the information, I took matters into my own hands. I snuck around and got the information on my own."
I tremble as I ask, "What name did you discover?"
"In her Firstlife, her name was Honor Flynn. The human she is supposedly Fused to is Estella Orzo." He tenses as he says, "I visited her. That girl...my mother was not a part of that girl."
The anger in his tone gives added weight to his conviction. Proceed with care. "You died as an infant and never met your mother. How are you so sure?" What finally convinced him?
"The things that girl was doing... My mother would never act that way. Would never attempt to sleep with me. Honor Flynn has to be somewhere else. Maybe you're right, maybe she's in Many Ends."
I give him a comforting squeeze. "So...what do we do now?"
"I have to find a way in to search for her. If she's there, I can't leave her. I never knew her, but I need to know her."
Dread slithers around me, a boa determined to choke all hope out of me. Killian is going to continue endangering himself, and one day he's going to be caught.
"I will find a way back inside Many Ends, Killian. I promise you. I don't know how many spirits are there--whether they're all Unsigned or if Myriadians are part of the mix. I don't know how many are trapped in the mountains, food for the birds and monkeys." The monsters! "But we can rescue everyone...together."
Words Archer once spoke to me. I chose to act without him, and I lost him. I pray Killian doesn't choose to act without me.
"What do you remember about the entrance and exit?" he asks.
"Each time I entered, I died in physical form and simply woke up there. Twice my body was revived and I left as quickly as I arrived. The last time, I had to swim to the bottom of a lake filled with ravenous mermaids." I shudder.
"A lake," he says, and I wonder if there's something similar inside Myriad.
I change the subject--for now--not wanting to give him any ideas. I don't want him traversing Many Ends without
me. "Any leads on the spy?"
"Nothing yet."
Who could it be? Kayla, Reed, Deacon, Victor? I trust them. Elizabeth? I would love to blame her. Levi? Even though I'm angry with him, he doesn't strike me as a fox but a shepherd. He fights foxes, keeping them away from his flock.
"If I had to guess, I'd say Victor," Killian says. "He defected, but still has ties to Myriad."
"What a shocker. You do remember you admitted you've never liked him, right?"
"Yes, but I like him even less since you met him," he grumbles, and I laugh. "He always had a string of women chasing after him. He promised each of them the world, but never committed."
Well. That certainly fits Kayla's experience. "Is that the real reason you abducted him? To keep him away from me? And how did you wipe his memory?"
"I abducted him because I suspected him of being the spy, and I wanted to make sure he couldn't pass information to Myriad. But information was passed even while I had him. And no, I didn't wipe his memory."
I cross Victor off my mental Who's the Spy list. One down. "Then who did wipe his memory? And why did you suggest Victor was the spy if you knew he wasn't?"
"I didn't say I stopped suspecting him. He could have found a way to pass on your secrets while in captivity."
Maybe, but not likely. "Then why did you set him free?"
"I didn't. Sir Zhi Chen found him. My Leader."
My throat constricts. "Did you get in trouble for harming one of your own?"
A corner of his mouth lifts with wry amusement. "I spun the story to best suit my needs. I received a reward."
Phew. "I'm not surprised. Spinning is your specialty."
"Actually, I spun the story with truth, said I had to prove I would do anything--absolutely anything--for you in order to earn your trust. Zhi doesn't know that I'm doing these things because I love you, not because I plan to use your feelings for me against you." He gives me another hard kiss, rocking my world, before standing and drawing me to my feet. "And now I should go. I've been off Grid too long already."
I straighten my clothes, drink my vial of manna and tap my healing comm.
"Wait. I have something for you." Killian won't meet my gaze as he digs into the pocket of his jeans.
I laugh. "If you tell me the gift is your penis--"
"Please. I'll save that very big gift for another day." He dangles a necklace directly in front of my face. In the center hangs the symbol for pi.
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