Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife

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Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife Page 74

by Gena Showalter


  He’s so much taller than me, I’m forced to look up, up, up. Scars circle his neck, proof of the pain he’s suffered throughout his Secondlife.

  I reach out, intending to trace a fingertip along the raised flesh, but stop myself just before contact. “You’ve been a spirit all your life. Why didn’t you regenerate after you were injured?”

  “A spirit is unable to regenerate fully until reachin’ the Age of Perfection. What you receive as a child, you carry with you always.” He crooks his finger at me. “C’mere. I’m goin’ tae kiss you now.”

  A kiss. Of course! A wedding always ends with a kiss.

  I move toward him, eager, and he enfolds me in his muscular arms. His lips descend, claiming mine in our first spirit-kiss, no barriers between us, and he isn’t gentle about it. He’s demanding and possessive, pure masculine aggression, and I love every second.

  Everything about him makes me think of forbidden nights and carnal indulgence.

  I’m burning up rather than freezing as usual, pleasure consuming me, the pain I’m used to feeling nothing but a distant memory.

  Realization: We can touch without consequence!

  I melt into him, the rest of the world is forgotten as I luxuriate in the sweetness of his flavor.

  Now the deal is sealed. This boy is now my husband. And this, our first kiss as a bonded pair, is everything I’ve ever dreamed and more. It’s—

  A bolt of ice slams into me, tossing me across the cavern. I collide with the wall and slide to the ground, fighting for breath. Agony sears my right arm. Panting, I look down. Double take. An image appears in my flesh, as dark as ink and in the shape of…a horse?

  The animal rests under the words Loyalty, Passion, Liberty.

  Loyalty to my realm. Passion for the truth. Liberty for all.

  The words appeared immediately after my Firstdeath. Actually, numbers appeared. The moment I figured out what those numbers represented, the words took their place.

  Why a horse? There has to be a reason. There’s always a reason.

  I rack my brain, but all I can come up with—Killian once likened me to a warhorse.

  The warhorse paws fiercely, rejoicing in his strength, and charges into the fray. He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; he does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against his side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement he eats up the ground; he cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds. At the blast of the trumpet it snorts, “Aha!” He catches the scent of battle from afar, the shout of commanders and the battle cry.

  He…or she. But I’m not here to fight. I’m here to make peace. Unless…

  The moisture in my mouth dries. Ready or not, a new battle is headed our way.

  My vision goes hazy, and I moan. I am Light, and I’ve never needed to see more! Blinking rapidly helps, allowing me to search for Killian. The same terrible phenomena must have bombarded him, because he’s slouched against the opposite wall. When our gazes meet, he reaches in my direction, the numbers tattooed on his wrist visible.

  143, 10. I love you, Ten.

  Beneath the numbers I spy a new image. A horse. A match to mine, though his is white and mine is black.

  His eyes are alight with… No, impossible! The flecks I so adore cannot be doused in literal flames, flickering with both light and shadow.

  I need to get to him, now, but my muscles are like frozen blocks of ice. And the Grid—

  The Grid! My connection to Troika, and a reminder that there is so much more to the world—to my world—than what I can see and feel at any given time.

  Shadows dance along the Grid, where multiple doorways loom. Those doorways lead to rooms. In some, I’ve stored extra Light. Others provide a link to the conscious minds of different citizens. One in particular opens up to the Rest, where our dead spend eternity at peace.

  A pang of homesickness strikes me. Meredith, Archer and Levi are there. I miss them desperately.

  Radiating hatred, the shadows try to sneak into one room after another. I fight to keep the doorways closed as information bombards me. Darkness is measured by the absence of Light. These shadows, whatever they are, must have come from Killian, and our bond, and yet they are so familiar to me…as if they are old friends. How is that possible?

  Doesn’t matter. Must…do…something. Now!

  Left with no other choice, I change tactics and open a door to one of my storage rooms. In a vivid, dazzling rush, bright Light escapes. Shadows hiss, some dying the second they come into contact with a beam, others slithering away, and, oh, zero, sharp pains explode through my head, and I scream.

  Can’t give up. Strengthen in the Light, die in the darkness.

  Between one breath and the next, the pain leaves me, and a scene opens in my mind. A memory that is not my own.

  I’m standing in a doorway, watching a young couple walk down the center of a hallway. There are thirteen children lined up beside me, all under the age of ten. The couple stops to question a little girl before dismissing her and moving on to a little boy. He, too, is dismissed. The next three children are ignored, but the couple pauses to inspect the teeth of the fourth.

  Closer to me by the second…

  I’m nervous. I would kill to have a family of my own—literally—but no one will look at me twice. What’s wrong with me? What do I lack?

  Easy: Absolutely everything.

  Once, my superiors thought I was destined to become a General. Everyone wanted me, then. When I failed to develop the necessary skills, the want turned to disdain.

  I try so hard, and I train harder than everyone else combined. I learned how to use a sword and every type of gun. Even the Stag and the Oxi, the most dangerous weapons in a Laborer’s arsenal. One day I’ll kill more Troikans than any General in our history. I vow it.

  Just give me a chance. Please!

  The couple is on the move again…so, so close to me…the woman looks me over and gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head before passing me, silent. My heart sinks, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

  Me? Cry? Never! I keep my head high. If this family doesn’t want me, fine, I don’t want them, either. They aren’t good enough. I’m better off at the Learning Center, anyway.

  The scene goes blank, and I—Ten—blink open my eyes. I’m back in the present, back in the cave, panting and drenched in sweat yet shivering with bone-deep chill. I was wrong. The pain didn’t subside; it ramped up.

  The memory…it came from Killian. I know in my heart. Having died soon after his mother gave birth to him, he spent his childhood inside the Learning Center, a Myriadian orphanage.

  Humans—both in flesh and spirit form—could be ugly in so many ways. Rotten inside. Vile and cruel. But they were also layered. Pull back the ugliness, and you might see a hurt. Pull back another layer, and you might see a child who used to crave approval, affection and acceptance.

  A child like Killian had been. My husband has seen the worst the world(s) have to offer. I want so badly to hold him in my arms and comfort the boy he’d been, and praise the man he’d become.

  My gaze seeks him. He’s on his back, pulling at his hair. Like me, he’s panting and drenched in sweat. But he’s muttering, “Kill. Kill. Kill.”

  Kill…who? Is he seeing into my memories?

  “I’m here,” I tell him. “I’m—”

  My heart stops, stealing my words as a man and woman storm into the cave.

  Copyright © 2018 by Gena Showalter

  ISBN-13: 9781488015298

  Lifeblood

  Copyright © 2017 by Gena Showalter

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse e
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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

  STAND TOGETHER OR FALL ALONE.

  THE FATE OF THE EVERLIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE.

  At seventeen years old, Tenley “Ten” Lockwood had to make the ultimate choice—where to live after she died. Loyalty to her selected realm has not wavered…until now. The numbers-obsessed Conduit is out of time. Sacrifices must be made, and a terrible price must be paid. But is she too late?

  As the Everlife descends into darkness, a single truth becomes clear: Troika and Myriad must unite at long last—or perish. In order to bring sworn enemies together, Ten must enter forbidden territory…and destroy the powerful Prince of Ravens. But there’s only one way inside—bonding with Killian Flynn, a deadly rival Laborer who sets her blood aflame.

  When nothing goes as planned and betrayal leads to the edge of utter defeat, Ten and Killian will have to rebuild trust from the ashes of their hearts. Victory seems impossible, the odds stacked against them. In the end, how far will they be willing to go for the sake of their realms and the Everlife?

  Everlife

  Gena Showalter

  CONTENTS

  Part One

  Troika

  Troika

  Troika

  Troika

  Troika

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Troika

  Troika

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Troika

  Troika

  Chapter Eleven

  Troika

  Troika

  Troika

  Part Two

  Troika

  Chapter Twelve

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Chapter Thirteen

  Troika

  Troika

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Troika

  Troika

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Troika

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Troika

  Troika

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Troika

  Myriad

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Troika

  Troika

  Troika

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Myriad

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  PART ONE

  * * *

  Troika

  TROIKA

  * * *

  From: A_T_3/23.40.29

  To: L_R_3/51.3.15, J_A_3/19.37.30, S_C_3/50.4.13, C_M_3/5.20.1, Y_L_3/59.1.2, A_S_3/42.6.31, T_B_3/19.30.2, B_S_3/51.3.13, M_V_3/54.5.8, J_B_3/19.23.4, S_J_3/62.5.5, M_P_3/45.10.9

  Subject: Tenley Lockwood

  Fellow Generals,

  We have two orders of business to discuss. The first: animals. Because of the recent bombings inside our realm, our Secondking has issued a decree. Every citizen will be appointed a guardian, whether four-legged or winged. However, we all have the right to decline. I suggest you do so, and encourage your people to do the same. We haven’t trained with these animals. There’s a good chance they’ll be more of a hindrance than a help.

  The second order of business is the most important. For the first time in our realm’s history, the Prince of Doves has decided NOT to hold a vote for the Resurrection. I don’t know why, only that protests will not change his mind. Instead, Tenley Lockwood is tasked with selecting which of our fallen soldiers will leave the Rest.

  No doubt she plans to choose one of the following (in order of rank):

  General Levi Nanne, her trainer

  Leader Meredith Cordell, her grandmother

  Laborer Archer Prince, her friend

  Laborer Elizabeth Winchester, her teammate

  We have twenty-four hours to plead the case of our revered brother, General Orion Giovante. While I love and respect the others, Orion is the one we need. The war with Myriad is heating. We are outnumbered and outgunned, and Orion is a warrior among warriors, our greatest hope for victory. He has what Levi doesn’t: a killer instinct. Toward the end, Levi softened. He worked with Killian Flynn, known by our Laborers as the Butcher. Mr. Flynn is also Miss Lockwood’s biggest weakness. Their romantic relationship puts us all at terrible risk.

  Orion will deliver Mr. Flynn’s Second-death without pause or concern for Miss Lockwood’s feelings. He will help us focus on the only thing that matters: Myriad’s annihilation.

  First, we must find Miss Lockwood. Second, we must convince her to do what will help us but hurt her. For some reason, I’m unable to find her in the Grid.

  Jane, do you see her in the Eye?

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Alejandro Torres

  TROIKA

  * * *

  From: J_A_3/19.37.30

  To: A_T_3/23.40.29, L_R_3/51.3.15, S_C_3/50.4.13, C_M_3/5.20.1, Y_L_3/59.1.2, A_S_3/42.6.31, T_B_3/19.30.2, B_S_3/51.3.13, M_V_3/54.5.8, J_B_3/19.23.4, S_J_3/62.5.5, M_P_3/45.10.9

  Subject: Foolish girl!

  Miss Lockwood has disabled her comm. Does she want Myriad to kill her?

  Worry not. I’ll find her. I just need time.

  General Shamus, gather your army and await further word at the Veil of Wings. The moment I’ve located Miss Lockwood, I’ll transport you to her side.

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Jane Adamson

  PS: I have rejected my guardian.

  TROIKA

  * * *

  From: S_C_3/50.4.13

  To: J_A_3/19.37.30, A_T_3/23.40.29, L_R_3/51.3.15, C_M_3/5.20.1, Y_L_3/59.1.2, A_S_3/42.6.31, T_B_3/19.30.2, B_S_3/51.3.13, M_V_3/54.5.8, J_B_3/19.23.4, S_J_3/62.5.5, M_P_3/45.10.9

  Subject: I’ll be ready

  However, I doubt I’ll be gentle. But then, I have a feeling “gentle” isn’t necessary or even desired. Why else would you assign the Brute to retrieve her? You’d like someone to teach her the error of her ways, perhaps even scare her into doing what we desire.

  Consider it done.

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Shamus Campbell

 
PS: I was appointed a guardian poodle. You did not misread. I said POODLE. If you want to be insulted on my behalf, feel free. I turned her down—of course.

  TROIKA

  * * *

  From: L_R_3/51.3.15

  To: S_C_3/50.4.13, J_A_3/19.37.30, A_T_3/23.40.29, C_M_3/5.20.1, Y_L_3/59.1.2, A_S_3/42.6.31, T_B_3/19.30.2, B_S_3/51.3.13, M_V_3/54.5.8, J_B_3/19.23.4, S_J_3/62.5.5, M_P_3/45.10.9

  Subject: I’ll go with you, Shame-us

  And I’ll hear no protests on the matter. Anger has clouded your judgment; it is Myriad, not Troika, that deals in fear. Also, if we punish the girl, we risk alienating her. We cannot make her feel as though she has no allies, otherwise she’ll vote for someone other than the General she’s never had the privilege of meeting.

  Do us all a favor and think before you speak, General Campbell.

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Luciana Rossi

  PS: I was assigned a grizzly bear. Suck it.

  TROIKA

  * * *

  From: S_C_3/50.4.13

  To: L_R_3/51.3.15

  Subject: Admit it

  Your concern isn’t for the girl or even our great realm. You’ve always lusted for Orion, and you’ll do anything to bring him back—even pander to a Conduit too ignorant to pick a good decision in a lineup.

  I’m sure Orion’s wife will thank you for your efforts, eh. Or not. Yeah, probably not.

  If ever YOU stop acting like a Myriadian and want to tup an unattached male, all you have to do is beg me. I’ll do the dishonors, you have my word.

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Shame-on-you

  PS: I guess Eron thinks you need a stronger guardian…because you are weaker.

  MYRIAD

 

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