Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife

by Gena Showalter

  Horror descends. Myriad wanted me to cleanse Dior and weaken. They wanted me helpless as they attacked my people. One step ahead of me all along.

  “Ten! Ten!”

  I spin and catch sight of Kayla, who is headed my way, pale hair flying behind her, a multitude of weapons strapped to her small body, metal swords banging against her legs with every step.

  She’s alive!

  “Levi sent me to gather any Laborers who survived the blast. He’s sending soldiers through the Veil of Wings to clear the armies outside our walls so Light can reach us.” As she speaks, she tosses a weapon at anyone within reach.

  I share what little Light I have left, guaranteeing everyone is steady.

  “Go. Help the others,” I say. “I’m searching for my brother.”

  Raanan pats my shoulder, and a spark of Light ignites between us. Not one created by me. He gasps. Is he… Could he be…?

  The group rushes off, led by a fully recovered General Bahari.

  “I know where Jeremy is,” Kayla tells me.

  Thank the Firstking! I’ll consider Raanan’s status later. “Take me to him.” Maybe I shared too much Light. I’m weak, trembling, swaying on my feet. “Please.”

  “Come on.” She heads in the opposite direction. “He’s in the Tower of Might.”

  I follow, my relief potent and powerful. The deeper we go, the more shadows that descend over the watery sky, and my brands dull. Vibrations erupt in the back of my mind, telling me something’s wrong.

  “Kayla,” I rasp as we approach the Gate.

  She enters without pause. I trail behind, intending to grab her and retreat. Jeremy must have been moved, because—

  Whack!

  A spiked board smacks me in the face, and I careen, nearly losing my grip on my swords. Dizziness and pain are instant and excruciating, Lifeblood washing over my eyes and coating my tongue.

  Male laughter rings out. “That never gets old.”

  “Stop! Victor,” Kayla cries. “You said she wouldn’t be hurt.”

  Victor. Of course. But I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Kayla set me up. That she helped him plan a mass destruction of innocents.

  I blink in an effort to clear my vision. “Where’s Jeremy?”

  “He’s fine,” she assures me. “I put him in a bunker before…before…”

  The first bomb went off, I finish for her. She did. She set me up and helped plan this. Betrayal nearly rips me in two.

  Victor drops the board and palms a .44. “Surprise! Your good pal is out of hiding and better than ever.” He waves, his hand almost fully regrown.

  The realm shakes with great force, rattling my brain against my skull. Another bomb? I remain on the ground, feeling utterly defeated. First I loved and trusted Sloan, and she killed me. Then I loved and trusted Kayla, and she does this.

  “How?” I croak.

  She bows her head, radiating shame. “I’m sorry, Ten. I am. But I love him.”

  This isn’t love, I want to scream. “He tried to kill me. Numerous times! In my apartment, he even tried to kill you.”

  “No,” she says. “He only tried to weaken you. And he only wounded me, so no one would know I’d helped him. He did me a favor.”

  She can’t be so foolish. She can’t.

  “Poor Ten.” Victor smiles, smug. “Outsmarted and outplayed.”

  “You want peace, Ten,” Kayla continues, desperate to make me understand. “This is how we get it.”

  “This? This?” I shout. “You mean slaughtering innocents?”

  “A few will die to save many,” she rushes out. “Victor promised me. Your Light is going to be dimmed with Penumbra, and the realms will be on equal footing.” Her gaze pleads with me to consent to my own downfall. “The fighting will stop.”

  Fool! “Light and dark cannot coexist.” Archer and Killian have said the same to me on multiple occasions. “I can’t be infected with Penumbra, only killed.”

  “No.” She shakes her head, vehement. “Victor promised.”

  “Ten is right. At some point, we are going to kill her. But don’t worry, baby. You won’t be around to see it.” He aims and fires, a bullet nailing her between the eyes.

  “No!” I jump up. In that moment, I don’t care what she’s done or how terribly she’s hurt me. I only want her to be okay.

  I hurry to her side—or try to.

  Victor fires at my feet, stopping me in my tracks. “Stay where you are.”

  “How could you hurt her?” I grate.

  “Easily. She served her purpose. Now toss the swords in my direction.”

  I hesitate. There are no other Troikans nearby. None that I can see, anyway. They were called away to fight the threat outside.

  Victor is smart. He knew exactly where to draw me.

  Did the armies put more soldiers above this area, knowing he would lead me to it? Knowing I would need only a single ray of Light to start a conflagration?

  I lick my lips and toss the swords…but only a few feet away from me.

  Scowling, he stomps over to kick the blades behind him. While he’s distracted, I reach up to rub my thumb against Killian’s necklace. I know he can’t get inside the realm, but maybe, just maybe, he can pinpoint my location and help clear the area above the Tower of Might.

  I just have to keep Victor talking long enough for Killian to arrive.

  “Why haven’t you killed me already?” I ask. “Didn’t you learn your lesson about letting me live?”

  He smiles without humor. “I’ve decided to make covenant with you.”

  I snort-laugh. “Are you kidding? Why would I ever agree? Why would you want me to?”

  “Why else? Power. With you on my side, the Prince of Doves will have no choice but to surrender to Myriad. The war will end, as you claim to desire, and I will take my rightful place in Troika. The new Secondking.”

  I would rather die. “You’ll never have enough power to become king.”

  His comm glows, but he pays it no heed. “Choose, Ten. This is your only means of survival. And you want to survive, don’t you? You want to continue fighting me, at the very least. To ensure you save your friends from my wrath.”

  Every decision matters. Every action has a consequence. What you sow, you will reap. As he deceived Kayla, he has deceived himself. “Love gives rather than takes. By saving myself, I would be condemning others. That, I won’t do.”

  A minute beam of Light slips through the shadows above, shining a few feet in front of me. Killian is here!

  Victor frowns and glances up at the sky.

  Now! Heart hammering, I dive for the Light.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  * * *

  “A problem should never be the sole focus of your life.”

  —Troika

  I land in the center of the beam, going from cold to hot in an instant, suddenly jacked up as if I’ve just been plugged in to a generator. The brand on my arm flickers once, twice…glows…and the Grid begins to buzz in the back of my mind.

  First up: disarming Victor.

  He plans to destroy Troika from the inside. He must be stopped.

  As I straighten, he realizes his mistake—never lose track of your enemy. He adjusts his aim and squeezes the trigger, but I’m on a roll, literally, and the shot soars over my shoulder.

  I swipe up my swords and come up swinging.

  Boom, boom. The bullets whizz past me. I strike at him. We move in tandem, one of us attacking, the other dodging. I manage to drive him backward.

  “You’re not going to beat me.” I see my victory playing along the Grid, leading my every action.

  “Wrong. You’re already beaten.”

  A lie. Just another in a long line.
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  In a single, fluid motion, he reloads his gun. Another bullet heads my way. I duck, beginning to detect a pattern to his movements, as if he’s dancing to music I cannot hear. Step, step, duck left, duck right, fire. Step, step, duck.

  Using my Light as fuel, I pick up the pace, changing the beat. I block and press my swords together. With a swipe of the staff, he falls to the side, but also fires another shot. He lands and leaps at me. I dart in the opposite direction, going low, as if I mean to knock his feet out from under him.

  When he jumps, I jerk the staff up instead of down, hitting his calves to disrupt his balance. He falls again. I yank the staff apart and twirl a sword, cutting off his foot before he lands. Thud. He’s on the ground, reaching for his spurting stump. I cut off his hand, the gun still in his grip.

  He screams. I pivot around him…and remove his other hand.

  His next scream makes a mockery of his first, Lifeblood pouring from all three wounds.

  Determined to end this, I relock the swords and press the tip of the staff against the pulse at the base of his neck. A flame burns him.

  “Mercy, mercy,” he cries.

  I’m panting, my heart pounding. This boy has caused me all kinds of problems. He has deceived me, hurt me, and killed my friends. If given the chance, he’ll do it all again.

  My heart weeps. Allow him to live. Save the enemy, one at a time… As long as there’s breath, there’s hope.

  …but I’m tempted, so tempted to finish him. Death is what he deserves.

  A thick beam of Light spreads over us, bright and warm. I glance up and exhale a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. MLs are fleeing. Has Troika won?

  “Mercy.” Victor’s voice weaker, his strength draining as quickly as his Lifeblood. “Mercy. Please, Ten.”

  “If the situation was reversed and I asked you for mercy, you would strike me down with a smile on your smug face.”

  But I am not him. My choice today defines who and what I am tomorrow.

  He flinches, the truth of my words irrefutable.

  I straighten, removing the tip of the staff from his pulse, adding, “I’m not going to kill you. I’m not your judge, and I’m not going to decide your punishment.”

  Footsteps sound in the distance. I spin, ignoring an influx of dread as I lift my weapon, prepared to battle.

  A Troikan army rushes through the Gate, Levi at the helm.

  Relief opens a floodgate, and tears fill my eyes. I pull the staff apart and sheathe the swords as I rush over to Kayla. She’s unconscious, unmoving, but she has a pulse.

  I push every bit of Light I can spare into her and shout, “Help her!” Victor is proof spirits are harder to kill than humans. I think…pray…she can recover from this.

  Levi issues a series of orders. Three soldiers see to Kayla’s care while another two deal with Victor. As both individuals are carted to the Sanatorium, I begin to tremble.

  “Kayla told me Jeremy is safe,” I say. If she lied…

  “He is safe. I’ve seen him.”

  My knees give out, and I topple. My tears spill over and rain down my cheeks. “According to intel, there are—were—nine Myriadian spies in our realm,” I tell Levi. “I killed two. Victor is the third.”

  “The Secondking can do what we can’t, unearthing those who disabled their comms and locking them away until they can be questioned.” He closes the distance and, with a quiet hiss, eases beside me. There’s a wet spot on his rib cage, and it’s growing, his Lifeblood hemorrhaging.

  “You need Light, but I have none left,” I say. “Why don’t you go to the Sanatorium with the others.”

  “I’ll go. Eventually. You’ll be happy to hear we were also able to drive the enemy away…with Killian’s help.”

  My heart skips a beat. He came through. After everything, he came through for me. He chose me, fighting his peers to save me.

  I cry so hard I dry heave.

  I want my arms wrapped around him. I want his heart beating against mine and his scent in my nose. I want his breath fanning my skin, branding me as effectively as the Troikan symbol. I want his lips pressed against mine.

  I want to thank him.

  “What about Clay?” I rip the hem of my shirt and press the material into Levi’s side.

  With another hiss, he takes possession of the cloth to maintain pressure on his wound. “Killian and Deacon found and freed him before joining the battle. Apparently there are Troikan sympathizers inside Myriad. Clay helped them fight outside the walls.”

  Killian kept his promise to me, finding my friend and bringing him home.

  A promise kept is a star in the darkest of nights. A bridge between us. A bridge no one will ever be able to destroy.

  I tell Levi everything that happened. Kayla’s betrayal. Victor’s plots and plans. Sadness fills his eyes.

  “What will happen to Kayla? If she survives?” I ask. Punishment? Banishment?

  “The Secondking will decide.”

  “And Victor? What will happen to him?”

  “His covenant has been broken, his grace period over. He’ll be banished. He wanted Myriad, he can have Myriad.”

  My hope is that he is haunted by the kindnesses shown to him today—and every day he lived here—that he realizes he lost a prize.

  “Our realm…” I say.

  Levi heaves a sigh. “We have much to rebuild.”

  Much is an understatement. “And the casualties?”

  “I would say they are too numerous to count, but I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

  I have no humor to spare. I dig my fingers into the ground, dirt sinking under my nails. “How was Myriad able to do this?”

  “They distracted us with smaller battles in the Land of the Harvest, dividing our focus while launching a bigger battle on our own soil.” He pauses, sighs again. “You did well today, Miss Lockwood. You saw past your emotions, putting the needs of others above your own wants. I’m proud of you.”

  A hard lump clogs my throat.

  Through the Grid, a Light brighter than any other shines. My cells sizzle and snap with new life. Strength blooms inside me, a rose opening for the sun. I’m no longer slumped over but sitting up straight.

  The princess! She is energizing me. No, not just me but all of us. Levi is sitting straighter, as well.

  “One day,” he says, “you will be able to do that. As for this…we will overcome. We have been knocked down, but we won’t stay down.” He stands and offers me a hand, helping me to my feet. “Today we salvage.”

  We take different Gates and Stairwells through the realm. The Capital of New, the Baths of Restoration and the House of Secrets sustained the most damage.

  For the next several hours, we dig through the rubble, searching for survivors. The other Generals work alongside us, and so do the newbies. Old and young have come together as one.

  The jagged rocks cut my hands, and I lose a couple of nails, but as we find survivors, my determination is renewed and I continue on. At some point, Deacon joins us. He’s covered in soot and grime and there’s a bruise on his jawline, but he’s steady.

  A little while later, someone taps my shoulder, startling me. I turn to find Clay and launch into his open arms. He hugs me tight, as if I’m the only life raft in the middle of a typhoon.

  When we part, he chucks me under the chin. “Why didn’t the two fours feel like eating dinner?”

  How much do I love this boy! “Because they already ate. Sorry, I mean eight.” I press my forehead against the center of his chest. “I’m happy you’re alive and well.”

  He gives me another hug. “I wish you could have seen Killian. He swooped in, armed and dangerous. Slayed and took names. No one could stop him.”

  That’s my guy.

  A door open
s in the Grid, and I see Archer’s beautiful face. My tears return.

  I whisper, “Today we will mourn, but new strength will be born. For those who have fallen, we will not be downtrodden. We will rise and we will shine, and in the sand we will draw a line. We will fight for what we believe, and to our hope we will cleave. Victory will be ours, and in the darkness, we will glitter like stars.”

  Archer offers me a sad smile.

  Clay frames my face with his hands, lifting my head to kiss my temple. “The past is in the past, where it belongs, and the future awaits us…but there’s something else we need to discuss.”

  Archer snorts. “Tell him he sucks.”

  I laugh and say, “Not bad.”

  “Thank you.” Clay wipes a tear from my cheek. “I hunted you down to deliver a bit of good news. Kayla’s awake, and she wants to see us.”

  * * *

  While half of the Sanatorium is in perfect condition, the other half is destroyed. Triage tents have been set up around the rubble, Healers doing everything they can to save the injured.

  Kayla has a gurney in back of the tent farthest from the others. She’s propped up on a mound of pillows. The enclosure holds fourteen other patients, some missing limbs, some thrashing in pain.

  War is never pretty.

  Levi beat us here. He’s sitting in a chair next to her bed, holding her hand. The two haven’t noticed us; they’re too focused on each other.

  “Did I…did I lose my citizenship?” Her voice trembles. There’s a bandage between her eyes, hiding her wound.

  “No, Miss Brooks. You didn’t lose your citizenship. You simply lost your way.”

  The words surprise me, even though part of me expected to hear them. Levi is the epitome of the Troikan way of life. He doesn’t tell us the path to walk; he shows us. And this…this is what changes people for the better. Unconditional love.

  A sob bubbles from her. “I’m so stupid. I never should have believed—” Her gaze lands on me, and she sobs again, sobs so hard she can no longer speak coherently.

  Levi stands. Though his dark hair is in complete disarray, he’s wearing a clean shirt. He pats my shoulder as he passes me, and says, “Give compassion, receive compassion.”