I look around. The staff quarters at Prynne are homier than ever, with blankets and pillows, games, toys for Gingerbread and even a string of twinkling Christmas bulbs hanging from the ceiling.
We’re months away from the holiday, but pretty is pretty.
Clay and Dior sit at a small round table, playing cards and laughing. She’s lost a little weight, her cheeks now slightly hollowed. Her skin is dry and flaking, and there are bruises under her eyes. Her dark hair is limp and lifeless.
An alarm goes off in my head, and I know beyond any doubt. If left unchecked, Penumbra will destroy her.
Gingerbread, who is resting at her momma’s feet, notices us and barks. Clay jumps up, and Dior stiffens.
“Ten.” Clay relaxes.
“Good to see you again,” Dior says.
Deacon tells her about her upcoming court date, and she smiles with genuine relief. Meanwhile, dread blows through me, a cold, damaging wind.
I stuff my hands in my pockets and jut my hip, forcing my body to say, I’m not worried about a thing, nope, not me.
—How has she been?—I cast my voice through the Grid.
Clay’s grim gaze meets mine. —She tosses and turns all night. If she does manage to fall asleep, she has nightmares.—
—She hasn’t drained your Light?—If I placed him in a hazardous situation…
—Not even a little.—
Thank the Firstking! “You’ll be pleased to know I’ll be speaking with Javier in roughly forty minutes,” I say to Dior. “We’d like to offer him a covenant with Troika.”
She places a hand over her heart, and the action reminds me of a baby bird too weak to take flight. “Thank you. I know he can be difficult sometimes, but he can also be sweet and kind, and he’s always protective.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “He’s been offered a covenant with Troika before but declined to accept. He believes equality is overrated. It has nothing to do with race,” she rushes to add. “He despises laziness. His father was a drunk and relied on Javier and his stepmom to pay the bills. Javier says he can never support a realm that rewards the lazy and hardworking alike.”
“We accept the lazy into our realm, yes, but the lazy are not rewarded.” Deacon’s tone is stiff.
“Something his TL has explained to him on several occasions,” she says with a sigh.
“Why hasn’t he signed with Myriad, then?” At the very least, I’d think he’d want to be with his girlfriend.
“They promote indulgence and, according to Javier, that’s just another form of laziness.”
Um, stealing cars from hardworking citizens to make easy money is another form of laziness, but I keep that little nugget to myself.
I make my way to the table and ease into the chair across from her. Up close, I can see the darkened veins branching out just under the surface of her skin; they are thicker, longer and active, like rushing rivers.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
Her gaze looks anywhere but my direction. “Tired, weak. A little achy.”
I lick my lips. “Things might get worse before they get better, but if you’ll refuse to give up, they will get better.” One day I’ll be able to cleanse her.
She white-knuckles the edge of the table. “Clay told me about Penumbra. How did Myriad infect me?”
My gaze darts to Clay.
“Levi wanted her to know,” he says with a shrug.
Information I should have received before my arrival. “We don’t know,” I tell Dior. A General visited her, then died in a supposed ambush. Dior became infected. Later a General visited Javier, then died in a supposed ambush. Javier became infected. Coincidence? No and no. But what is the actual connection?
Deacon’s comm glows. He checks the message and regards me with expectation. “I’m taking you to your aunt? The one who tried to kill you?”
So soon? “She didn’t try.” I look to Dior, who is crying into her hands. I reach over to pat her on the back but stop myself just before contact.
Frustration takes a big bite out of my calm.
“I’ll be back,” I tell her. “We’ll get through this together.”
Deacon types into his comm, takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. Within seconds, we’re transported to the corner of a small room. To the right, there’s a comfortable-looking bed and a toilet with a privacy screen. To the left, there’s a panel of what I assume is two-way glass. A human with dark, graying hair paces from one side to the other.
“I’ll let you know when your time is up.” Deacon exits the room, the door closing behind him.
Lina doesn’t react to our presence. She continues to pace, the hem of her paper-thin hospital gown ripped and dragging across the floor.
“I cheered. I cheered,” she chants. “Then I cried.”
This is Loony Lina.
I don’t know why I’m surprised by the compassion wrapping me in a warm embrace. I’m Troikan. Sympathy is hardwired into my DNA.
This woman killed me, yes, but long before the madness drove her to strike, we shared a wealth of love and laughter. When my father refused to spend time with me, she played games with me. When my mother was too busy painting to listen to my childish babble, Lina sang songs to me. To the best of her ability, she warned me about the dangers I would face in the future.
Ten tears fall, and I call. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me. Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry. Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing. Six seconds to hide, up, up, and you’ll survive. Five times four times three, and that is where he’ll be. Two I’ll save, I’ll be brave, brave, brave. The one I adore, I’ll come back for.
The silly song was a road map to salvation. It saved me. Saved Kayla and Reed, too, every line an instruction we’d desperately needed to navigate Many Ends and escape Myriad.
And…I haven’t completed the instructions, I realize. A tremor nearly rocks me off my feet. I left Killian behind, locked in the Kennels. He’s free now, but he might not be free later. I haven’t gone back for him.
One day I’ll go back for him!
The knowledge stirs something deep inside me. Hope, maybe. Or excitement. I will make it back inside Myriad, maybe even Many Ends, and I will leave with Killian at my side. Perhaps Marlowe, too.
A wide smile blooms. This. This has to be one of the reasons Levi asked me to seek out Lina. To be reminded of a future I’ve been promised. A goal I’ve had since before my Firstdeath.
Lina stops, her head snapping in my direction, her milky eyes locking on me. “I was ready. I was ready to die. Why didn’t you let me die?”
“Lina,” I say, and my chin quavers. She almost always speaks as if events have already happened, even when they haven’t. “I want you to live, and live well. And when you die, I want you to live with me in Troika. Would you like that?”
Silence.
I reach out to clasp her hand, but she rears back, as if she knows I’m a Shell. “It’s okay. You can touch me. I give you permission.”
I step closer, giving her time to get used to me but keeping my hands at my sides. Her eyes clear of milk, revealing blue irises that pierce as sharply as daggers.
“One fox in the henhouse,” she says. “In two days he’ll try to eat his mouse.”
Another rhyme. Another set of instructions? My jaw aches as I bite down to avoid asking questions. Through experience I know her answers will only confuse me more. “Lina, let me help you the way you helped me. Let me ensure your future is a good one.”
“I stayed.”
Okay. We’re back to speaking in past tense. “You stayed…here?”
“No, no. I was home. Home!”
Panic radiates from her, and I hold my hands palms out in a sign of surrender. Frightening her wasn’t my inten
tion. “All right,” I say. “You stayed home.”
She backs farther away from me. “One fox in the henhouse. In two days, he’ll try to eat his mouse. Three, yes, three warnings will come. By four five six, you’ll be glum. Look, look, look, for the seven. Eight, nine, Ten is in heaven.”
It is another set of instructions, and my mind whirls. Who is the fox? And who is the mouse?
Why will I be glum? What does she mean by heaven?
“Sleep now,” she says, sitting…then lying down. I want to stroke her forehead, the way she used to do for me, but I don’t want to upset her.
“Lina,” I say, my heart constricting as if someone has reached inside my chest and squeezed the organ in their hands. “I want you to know I forgive you.” One of my number tattoos tingles and glows. At the same time, a weight lifts from my shoulders, a weight I hadn’t even known I’d been carrying. “I forgive you for everything.”
She yawns. “The Key…in your heart all along.”
I jolt. “The Key? It’s in my heart?” A second row of numbers tingles and glows.
“Written in blood.” Another yawn. She closes her eyes, her features softening, the strain fading. “Sleep now.”
I flatten a hand over my heart. For all intents and purposes, this woman is supposed to be my enemy. But she’s not. She’ll never be. I will love her always.
How have other families hated each other over the centuries? How have husbands and wives warred each other? How have mothers turned their backs on their children?
I don’t want to hurt Lina. I want to saturate her in Light.
Is her fragile mind capable of withstanding court? What if she buckles under pressure?
A soft knock sounds at the door. A courtesy knock, only. Deacon doesn’t wait for my response but strides into the room.
“It’s time for us to go.”
I push my grief and confusion to the back of my mind, along with the new riddle. Lockdown!
I know I need to deal with everything. I can’t continue to suppress my feelings. The lockbox is so full the hinges are threatening to bust.
Later. I’ll deal later.
Today, I have a mission to complete, and it deserves my all.
“I’ll be back,” I tell my aunt and move to Deacon’s side. In a matter of minutes, I’ll meet Javier Diez…and spar with Killian.
Ready or not, here I come.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
* * *
“You cannot accept what’s right if you’re happy doing what’s wrong.”
—Troika
Deacon transports us to…a gym? Oookay. The location is a bit underwhelming considering I expected Killian and Javier to be inside a strip club. But no prob. I can roll.
There’s a boxing ring in the center, where six scantily clad women are hanging over the ropes, watching two muscular guys attempt to punch each other into pulp and powder.
Someone save me! One of those guys is Killian.
He’s inside a Shell, tall, cut and without flaws. His dark hair is slicked back, his beautiful body glistening with sweat.
Shells can be programmed to sweat as well as shiver; they can also be programmed not to sweat and shiver.
I’m glad Killian flipped the On switch.
Am I drooling? I think I’m drooling.
He’s teaching Javier how to box his way—no rules, no honor, anything for victory. Both boys are shirtless, wearing only boxing gloves and shorts. Both are brawny and defined with sinew—though Killian is far more ripped—and covered in tattoos.
The 143,10 tattoo causes the most feminine parts of me to flutter and heat.
To be fair, I’m fascinated by every image etched into Killian’s skin. Underneath the array of lines, stars and severed heads, I sometimes think I spot a map. What I can’t figure out—is it a map of Myriad? Or somewhere in the Land of the Harvest? He’s never said.
Concentrate now, ogle later.
Right.
—Javier looks to be in much better condition today.—Deacon’s voice comes from the Grid, claiming my attention. —In fact, he almost appears…healthy.—
We’re standing in a shadowed corner, unnoticed by the occupants. Cheers ring out, and Deacon sighs.
—He’s going to be a pain to deal with. Put on your big girl panties, Ten.—
Before we arrived, Deacon had told me, “We’ll appear inside a building. There will be MLs inside and outside. As soon as we’re noticed, I’ll put up a Buckler, but for the love of life, try not to get us noticed.”
“Why hasn’t Myriad erected a Buckler around the building?” I’d asked.
“It would give away their location. TLs would see it.”
“Wait. We put a Buckler around Dior’s safe house. How did we not give away her location?”
“You didn’t see behind the scenes. We erected other Bucklers all over the world at the exact same time. It’s a complicated strategy and not one we execute often. There are other ways to mask one, but let’s move on to what matters right now. If you can, lure Javier away and tell him whatever you plan to tell him. If Killian spots you, he’ll try to stop you. So will the other MLs. I’ll take out as many as I can. Just remember, as soon as our Buckler goes up, an army of MLs will be dispatched to disable our shield and pin us in.”
Deep breath in…out. —Big girl panties…on.—They better be. I’ve got one shot at this. Only one.
Bile agitates my stomach. I think I could wash a load of laundry in there. Well, ruin a load of laundry at least. I’m about to sneak past Killian Flynn or challenge him. And I’m about to do it simply for a chance to speak with Javier.
As a girlfriend, I currently suck eggs.
Can’t make any progress standing here. On your mark, get set, go!
Adrenaline surges through me as I move toward the boxing ring, weaving around treadmills, elliptical machines, weight benches and recumbent bikes. There are no other MLs present—not that I can see, anyway—and only three other humans are working out.
What’s my first move? Think, think.
“Hands up,” Killian tells Javier. The closer I get, the more I feel as if I’ve been snared by an unbreakable gravitational pull. “Aye. Like that.”
I love when his Irish accent comes out to play.
For a moment, I imagine the war is over, and we’re openly dating. I see myself pressed against him, his warm breath fanning my skin as his husky voice whispers my name. A promise. A passion. Goose bumps spread over my spirit but thankfully not my Shell.
Stop mooning!
I’m not. Really. See it, do it. Right?
I pause, my mind whirling. The second I’m standing behind the ropes, Killian will notice me. How will he react? Will he shout for reinforcements?
No. Not his style.
Javier will notice me, too. He might or might not know I’m a Shell. He might call for reinforcements. The Buckler will go up and the countdown clock will start. Ticktock, ticktock. As soon as the MLs disable the Buckler, Deacon and I will have to leave or risk being overrun.
Think, think. What’s the best way to proceed? To intrigue the human and protect Killian?
“This is merely the beginning of what Myriad has to offer,” Killian says now. “Strength like you’ve never known. The ability to defeat anyone who challenges you—even those who don’t. And as you can probably tell, win any woman you want.”
Well. The sales pitch has officially begun.
“I can win any woman I want now,” Javier replies, throwing another punch.
He is very handsome, despite the Penumbra writhing under the surface of his skin. A guy’s good looks would never be enough to help a girl get over Archer, but I guess this particular guy gave good distraction.
The girls stationed around the ring giggle an
d wave at him. They blow kisses to Killian.
Mine! Eyes off!
Well, well. Who knew Tenley Lockwood would mutate into the Hulk when jealous?
To his credit, Killian appears unaffected and unimpressed.
“Riches and fame,” Killian continues. “Whatever you desire, we will procure for you.”
What of love, compassion and peace? The kind of bone-deep peace I feel every time I pass through the Veil of Wings is worth anything. Everything. And it’s a peace Killian has never known.
What I wouldn’t give to share it with him.
First things first. Win Javier, protect my man. In the back of my mind, an idea springs to life. At first, I dismiss it. Too crazy! But also kind of…cool? Could it work?
I guess we’ll find out.
Determined, I hide behind one of the four corners of the boxing ring and step out of my Shell. As stealthily as possible, I climb up to the ropes. I hold my breath.
If anyone walks around the corner, they’ll see my Shell, and my efforts will be moot.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I step into one of the spectators—a pretty blonde—to use her as a shield. I don’t treat her as a Shell and attempt to anchor because I don’t want to control her movements.
Anchoring to a human is called Possession, and it’s against Troikan law.
I can almost feel Levi’s uncertainty pulse along the Grid. He is at the Eye with Kayla, the two watching my process in real time. My protectors.
Killian stiffens. He sniffs the air as his gaze roves over the entire room. Does he sense me? Is he that aware of me?
I melt a little.
Javier uses Killian’s distraction to his advantage and punches. Target: Killian’s jaw. My guy stumbles back.
When he steadies, he pops the bones of his Shell into place. “Good job.”
“Again.” Javier hops from one foot to the other, his eyes wild, glittering.
“You’re too amped. We’re taking a break.” He unwinds the tape from his gloves, his gaze rescanning the room…those blue-gold eyes slide over the blonde only to zoom back and narrow.
Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife Page 60
