Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife

by Gena Showalter

  No time for a break. “How many friends have you recruited to our side?” I ask Biscuit.

  “Counting…counting. One sec, still counting. Okay done. Only all of them.”

  The exact answer I hoped to hear. “Can you escort me to General Shamus?”

  His furry chest puffs with pride. “I can do anything. I’m amazing.”

  And mega humble.

  “Anyone going to introduce me?” Killian asks. “To the dog, not the Laborer. He and I have met. Although, if I’m being honest—for once—I consider him a dog, as well.”

  Nice. My husband remembers everyone but me.

  I’m not bitter—much.

  The dog bounds over to press his face through the bars of the cage. “Hiya. I’m Biscuit. The best! You’re Killian. You smell like you’ve been rubbing all over Ten.” Sniff, sniff. “I like it.”

  My cheeks heat as I hug Deacon, then Archer. “By the way, I’m really glad you’re here.”

  “I know.” He tweaks my nose. “Because I’m invaluable to your cause.”

  “And as humble as Biscuit,” I reply, my tone dry. “Though I’d love to stay and chat, there’s a little business I must attend.” I turn, intending to leave.

  “Hold up,” Archer calls, stopping me. “If you think you’re leaving without weaving me a poem, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Ha! “Little Bow Peep, there’s no time.”

  “If you’re breathing,” he counters, “there’s time.”

  Very well. Knowing he prefers poems that rhyme—all others are crap in his mind—I sigh and say, “The worst happened and you were dead. I couldn’t get your loss out of my head. I cried, I mourned, I longed to see you. It sucked, I tell you true. But here you are, back in my arms. Ready to battle—though you might be harmed. But listen well, you adorable piece of poo. If you die again, I’ll forever haunt you.”

  He barks out a laugh, and I go soft as butter. With this boy, I’m basically mush.

  Smiling, I reach out and pat his head. “You are the sister I always wanted.”

  Mock growl. “The poem sucked balls, sis. Work on it.”

  My smile widens. I soften further, but also warm. He is a bright Light in my life, our relationship as necessary as air. “I missed you, too, Ten,” I say, mimicking him. I focus on Biscuit. “All right. Let’s go, guardian.”

  I motor forward, the dog at my side. Just before I clear the door, I’m driven by a crazy impulse to look back at Killian. In the same way Archer is like a sibling to me, Killian is like an addiction. Resistance is futile.

  Our gazes meet, and lightning arcs across our bond, startling me. It’s bright, hot and unmistakable. A palpable hum of energy.

  “Be careful.” His body is drawn as tight as a bow, ready to snap. “Your death will cause mine.”

  Disappointment slaps me, but I say nothing as I head outside with Biscuit.

  One mission at a time.

  Different species of animal now surround the house. Six elephants at the helm, four giraffes directly behind them, then ten gorillas and two rhinos at the rear.

  6 + 4 + 10 + 2 = 22.

  Twenty-two, the atomic number for titanium.

  I must be as strong as titanium right now.

  On the sidelines of the neighborhood are countless dogs and cats, deer, alligators, bears, lions and tigers. I’m awed. The city has become a veritable zoo.

  In the distance, hundreds of Laborers crest a hill. They are dressed in catsuits. Troikan armor. No more robes. They are ready for battle, even if destruction isn’t the desired result. Swords glint in the Light that shines through the Veil of Wings. Red, red rose petals tumble from the sky, dancing and twirling toward the ground.

  Leading the way are Luciana and John.

  John is dark-skinned and muscled to the max. A warrior without equal.

  Animals stand beside their soldiers. A blast of fear almost sends me rushing back into the house. What if someone gets hurt? What if—No! Stop.

  I rub the brand on my wrist. I must be the warhorse. Fearless. Determined. Nothing will stop me from my goal: victory.

  The Grid hums with approval, causing the shadows to writhe. Here, now, it doesn’t feel like they’ve lost their hold on me. Not that I rely on my feelings. But either way, I know I’m going to have to battle those shadows. Soon.

  One mission at a time. Focus. Right. My brows knit as the Grid guides me to push a ray out, Light from my eyes. Um, okay. But why?

  Does it really matter? The Grid has never steered me wrong.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on a ray of Light. Deep breath in, out. Then I shove the Light, and open my eyes. A ray shoots from me, zooming through the air like an arrow. My gaze follows it and—I gasp. I can see a great distance perfectly! Can see little details I might have missed otherwise.

  Might have? Ha! Definitely.

  Luciana is wearing a metal and mesh dress, a regal look, but also a deceptive one. I’ve worn something similar, and I know the design allows easier weapons storage, as well as more fluid range of motion.

  I’ve met John once. We shook hands at my Welcome to Troika party. Though he is six-four, he appears tiny standing next to a massive steed. His shoulders are wide, his chest shaped like a barrel. John’s, not the horse’s. A thick golden beard covers the lower half of his face.

  “I don’t recall you looking so awed when you met me.” Biscuit bumps into my leg. “The General isn’t as cool as me.”

  “Oh, I was awed. Trust me.” When John glances in my direction, I duck. Silly. The Grid informs me I’m hidden. The ray of Light I blasted has blinded others from seeing me. So cool!

  Biscuit bounds off in the opposite direction, and I give chase.

  We slip past the Buckler Archer erected with zero problems. Not that I expected any. We can come and go as we please.

  We trek through row after row of the tiny homes. The deeper into the city we go, the cleaner it becomes, until we reach an area without any damage at all. A forest stretches for miles, only it’s a forest like no other I’ve seen. A veritable rainbow. The trees have green trunks and blue leaves. Some of the bushes are pink, some red, some orange. Lush yellow grass carpets the ground.

  Colorful birds fly from branch to branch, singing about love, love is always the answer.

  According to Aunt Lina, Light is always the answer. Perhaps they are one and the same?

  “By the way,” Biscuit says. “I wasn’t lying about your scent. Your butt is—”

  “Hey!” I swipe up a rock and lob it at him.

  He laughs as he ducks, then picks up the pace. A Stairwell looms ahead. I wonder where it leads, where we’ll—

  A twig snaps behind me. Whirling, I reach for a dagger. But a whip of Light lashes out, snags around the blade and yanks. Shock. Dread. Both consume me. A shadowed figure about fifty yards away. In one hand, he holds the whip. In the other, a rock. A rock he hurls—

  No. Not a rock. A grenade.

  “Bomb,” I scream, diving for Biscuit to cover him with my body.

  Boom!

  CHAPTER NINE

  * * *

  “Believing is believing.”

  —Troika

  Killian

  The moment Ten is gone, Archer seizes the reins of control, certain he’ll be obeyed.

  “Everyone outside,” he orders. “Subdue anyone who makes it past the animals, and remember—killing isn’t an option. Dawn, you stay inside.” He slaps a Dazer into her hand.

  As one of ten legitimate sons of the Prince of Ravens, Archer grew up issuing commands, expecting and receiving absolute compliance. At one time, even I obeyed him.

  When we were friends, I envied his confidence. Then he defected to Troika, leaving me behind, proving once again that no one sticks around and “love” can’t be trusted. Now? The trait makes me see red.
I grew up with nothing, had to work for every promotion, every scrap of admiration, yet still I am seen as less than nothing. He is looked upon as a savior.

  I…envy him? I would rather die!

  “Arming a Healer?” I sneer. “Why don’t you shoot her in the head and save her the trouble of shooting herself.”

  Dawn grows pale.

  Archer snaps his teeth at me, before saying to Dawn, “If anyone but the people in this room walk through the door, shoot first, ask questions later. And don’t worry. You won’t be causing anyone any kind of injury. If the prisoner threatens you, or hey, if he even breathes in your direction, shoot him, too.”

  Though she’s trembling, she nods.

  I swallow a curse, hating my helplessness. The urge to act, to rip those bars out of the way, bombards me. My hands twitch and my legs ready. But I remain seated, frustration mounting. I’ll succeed only in entertaining the enemy.

  Archer casts me a smug glance, all game, set, match.

  Rage…so much rage burns and bubbles inside me. A volcano set to erupt. But I tamp it down, and smile. A cold unveiling of my teeth. His time will come; I have only to bide mine.

  “Dear ladies, genitalmen and assorted faunae of Troika,” I say, my tone smug enough to annoy, well, anyone.

  “Did you say genitalmen?” Archer demands.

  “Oh, good. Your ears are working.” I continue just as breezily. “If you Daze me, you Daze Ten. Have you already forgotten we’re bonded, and what happens to one happens to both?” As I speak, I rub at the brand on my wrist. The horse Tenley spent a good few seconds staring at.

  She bears a similar mark. Meaning we have matching tattoos. Stab me, please. I must have convinced myself we’d last forever. Idiot. Nothing lasts forever. Not even truth, apparently. If Tenley is right and Fusion is a lie, my mother is trapped in Many Ends. My father, too. But who cares? My Secondking lied to me…like I once lied to so many others.

  Sow and reap, as Tenley likes to say.

  If she’s right about one thing, there’s a good chance she’s right about the other. Many Ends could be connected to Myriad…and I have value. I’m strong, capable and brave. I’m worth something.

  Her words still ring inside my head. To her, I mean something.

  Focus on what matters. Right. How can I support the realm, if that’s the case?

  How can I not?

  No realm, no future.

  When Archer scowls at me, his little dog goes crazy, barking and growling. Finally she tells me the many ways she’s going to hurt me if I continue to upset her human. Disembowelment is at the top of her list.

  Archer cracks a smile, and the dog goes quiet. Danger averted.

  “You won’t prick my temper today,” he informs me. “I learned a lot in the Rest. Namely the extent of your betrayal. You set me up. You are the reason I died in battle.”

  Am I? So badly do I want to remember, but the shadows clouding my memory are rooted deep. “What a neat trick, cooling the fire of your rage. Please. Teach me how to be dead inside, oh, wise one.”

  A pause. A sad smile. “Perhaps one day you’ll turn your mess into a message.” Dismissing me, he skids his gaze over the others. “All right. Get to work.”

  Everyone rushes to obey him without a single protest, the animals following. I’m envious. I’d love a pet of my own. Someone to look at me the way the dogs look at Tenley and Archer.

  Speaking of, does Tenley find the resurrected TL attractive?

  My hands fist, even though the answer doesn’t matter. I’m not going to think about her. I don’t like the way I feel when I do, as if I’m trapped in a car, careening toward another, unable to stop the collision.

  A distant boom sounds. The house shakes, and the furniture rattles.

  “They’re setting off bombs?” I demand, only to wince. My head feels as if it’s been split in half by a hammer. Sharp pains erupt in my limbs. My stomach churns, threatening to heave. Gashes appear on my arms and torso, Lifeblood dripping. Understanding dawns, followed by horror. “Your people are attacking Ten.” The words lash from me, an accusation as much as a demand something be done.

  “No. They…” The color drains from Archer’s cheeks, and he sways. This isn’t the first time his body has betrayed him today. Sweat pops up on his brow, and he wipes it away with a shaky hand. “They would never risk hurting her or the realm.”

  “So what was that?” I demand. Worry screams: Something terrible. “Why am I covered in wounds when I never moved an inch?”

  “I don’t… I can’t…”

  “Are you feeling okay?” Dawn flattens her palm against Archer’s forehead to gauge his temperature.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I mutter, my tone dry.

  “You’re overheated,” she continues, as if I haven’t spoken.

  “I’ll be okay.” Archer draws in a breath, holds, and exhales. “I just need a moment to catch my breath.”

  “No concern for Ten?” I spread my still-bleeding arms. “You are wonderful friends. The best.”

  “At the moment, there’s nothing I can do for Ten,” Dawn snaps at me. Well, well. The mouse can pretend to be a lion. “Besides. You are well enough to cause trouble, which means she is well enough. I must focus my efforts where they matter.”

  “Doesn’t look like your efforts matter much to Archer, either.” His tremors are worsening by the second. This keeps up, and he’ll soon drop like a condemned house. “Not that you’ve done anything but talk.”

  Pain and frustration have burned away any filter I might have had.

  Hurt glimmers in her eyes. What, does she expect me to apologize for speaking the truth?

  I need to leave, and I need to leave now. Someone has to look out for Ten. My life depends on it!

  If I can lure Archer closer, I can expedite his nap and steal his weapons. Won’t get me out of the cage, but at least I’ll be prepared when I do break free.

  Escape, weaken Troika, return to Myriad with Tenley.

  Put the needs of others before yourself.

  I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to halt an irritated verbal response. Two voices, both mine. Dark versus Light. Light can shove off. I’ll put the needs of others before myself never. Been there, done that, suffered for it.

  “Anyone with half a brain could tell Archer needs water. He just rose from the dead. Maybe he’s, I don’t know, dehydrated.” Why does my throat feel raw, like I swallowed acid? “While you’re at it, you should probably get yourself a glass, too. Unless you want to pass out?”

  Dawn glares at me, and I flash her my coldest grin. Then I blink—

  Suddenly I’m running through a thick veil of black smoke. Even as I cough, it hurts. I wrap a strip of cloth around the lower half of my face. It helps, but not much. As I scale down a pile of rubble, hunks of metal cut my legs, making me wince. The dog leads the way. He glances over his shoulder to ensure I haven’t fallen too far behind.

  Wait. I’m seeing the world through Tenley’s eyes?

  My eyelids snap open, and once again I’m standing inside the cage. The smoke is gone, though the air in the house now feels a hundred times hotter.

  Archer has regained his bearings. He’s standing in front of the bars, just as I hoped, though I never heard him move. The realization chafes. Still, I don’t strike out. Yet. My concern for Tenley is back, and magnified.

  “You need to understand something,” Archer says. “That girl is one of a kind. She—”

  “Shut up. Just shut up.” I need to return to her. The moment I close my eyes, I’m connected to her once again. The smoke is back, and it’s thicker, as if another bomb has been detonated.

  Biscuit calls, “Hurry! He’s going to catch us.”

  He? Who is chasing them?

  Boom!

  Directly behind me—her—something explodes. The
ground rocks, and debris shifts. Directly beneath Tenley’s feet, the pile slides in different directions. She plummets with a gasp. Impact jars her, emptying her lungs. I know, because I’m struggling to breathe, as well. Our minds are dizzy, our vision hazy as Lifeblood drip, drip, drips.

  Panic settles in my bones, setting my marrow aflame. Must save her—I mean me. Must save me. She could be harmed worse, which means I could be harmed worse.

  I don’t want her—us—harmed.

  A whimper draws her attention. One of Biscuit’s legs is trapped underneath a fat marble slab. She crawls toward him, uncaring when a shard of glass slices her thigh.

  Her biceps tremble as she fights to lift the slab.

  “Go,” the dog tells her. “I can’t walk. There’s no need for us both to die.”

  “No! I’m not going anywhere without you. Here.” She yanks the vial of manna from her neck. “Drink—”

  She goes still. A man with bright red curls ascends the pile, coming into view. She gasps, a name wafting over our bond.—Nico.—

  Information follows the voice. Nico and Tenley died on the same day. Firstdeath. She considered him a good guy. They’ve had little interaction, and nothing turbulent. The One Who Shall Not Be Named must have considered him a good guy, too, because he found and locked up all the Myriadian spies, and Nico wasn’t among them.

  Ambrosine hates his brother so much, he doesn’t allow his people to speak the name.

  “Why are you doing this?” she demands. “How are you doing it?”

  He motions to the hawk soaring overhead. “My guardian tracked you, figured out where you were heading and told me where to wait. Of course, he had no idea what I planned… Or maybe he did, and expected me to change my mind. Spoiler alert. I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Biscuit growls at Nico and then snarls at the bird, a promise of vengeance.

  —His reasons do no’ matter. End him, end the danger to your life.—I shove the command along our bond, my only means of supplying aid.

  She gasps, and I know she’s heard me. As stealthily as possible, she releases the vial of manna and reaches for a small, sharp shard of glass. Good girl. Going for her swords would be too obvious.