“Dior!” Archer sprints away, desperate to reach his girl.
She’s just as desperate to reach him. The two slam into each other and cling, as if the other could float away at any moment.
“We were right! We were right! She came back to life.” A smile dawns on Ten’s beautiful face, making her brighter than the beams. “Killian, she came back to life!”
A smile dawns on my face. Despite the obstacles, opposition, betrayals, doubts and uncertainties, she never gave up or let circumstances dictate her decisions.
Though Many Ends is crumbling, its monstrous protectors are defeated. The condemned are free. Death has lost its victory; the grave has lost its sting.
The collective sense of panic fades as more and more people are carried to the water, and relief takes hold. Those who aren’t picked up begin jumping into the lake on purpose.
Archer returns with Dior at his side. Behind the couple are Reed and Clay. Ten embraces our newly revived teammates, her smile unwavering. Joy radiates from her.
When there is no one left, the Light coasts over us and lifts us off our feet. I take Ten’s hand as we are eased into the water. Thankfully the putrid liquid never reaches us. We’re caught up in the eye of a storm, Light our air and peace our shield.
We come out the other side—the Kennels—without a blip of trouble, and are placed on our feet. Cage walls surround us.
I hate this place. I’ve been confined myself a time or twenty, and the experience is scarring. Freedom is gone, your reputation in tatters. Humiliation is the soup du jour.
But the past is the past. I don’t care what horrors I’ve suffered, as long as I have Ten by my side in the present, and the future.
“The cages are empty,” she says.
She’s right. The doors swing open. “Why is no one scramblin’ tae climb up or down tae escape?” The masses from Many Ends are gone, as well.
Sloan and Erica stand a few feet away, but though they are armed and ready, they have no one to direct.
“The Light carried everyone away,” Sloan says.
“Burned through the locks on the cages, too,” Erica says. “Even the prisoners were carried away.”
“Where’d they go?” I demand. Troika? The Land of the Harvest? Simply outside the Myriadian borders?
The girls share a look before saying in unison, “I don’t know.”
Boom!
We are thrown to the ground. Impact jars me. Spots wink before my eyes as air heaves from my lungs. Several of my bones break, and pain consumes me, but I scramble over to Ten, who fell beside me. She’s injured, but as quickly as the wounds appear, they heal.
I cup her face the way I like to do, and drink in this girl I love so dearly. “Are you all right, lass? Tell me true.”
“I’m fine, I promise.” She kisses me before she stands and helps me do the same. The color in her cheeks deepens to a rosy pink until she’s glowing, so bright I should probably—but won’t, can’t—look away. “Now to deal with Ambrosine.”
“We can do it, too. We can do anything.” The brightness of her Light might be more than I’m used to, despite our bond, and it might pain me even now, but it also strengthens me. As interconnected as I am with her, my life is hers. Her life is mine. Together, we are stronger.
1 + 1 = 2. The easiest problem with the simplest solution.
The vibrations we felt inside Many Ends bleed into Myriad, rocking us on our feet. Or perhaps they originated here. Will the entire realm crumble?
In the distance, a storm of darkness approaches. Thick black clouds. Writhing shadows. The echo of a thousand screams. In the center is Ambrosine. Drawing closer and closer. Wind whips at his hair, the strands tangling around his face. He is dressed in black leather and gold armor, many of his medals hanging at odd angles.
“You!” His voice booms like myriad claps of thunder all at once, and it sounds as if there are other voices trapped inside his—each one crying for help.
I cringe as I whip around, but scowl as I meet the narrowed gaze of my once beloved king. Rage and power radiate from him. I feel the first wave of that power as it tries to send me to my knees. Gritting my teeth, I resist.
Archer, Dior, Clay and Reed line up behind Ten in a show of support. I remain at her side, and I dare anyone to try to move me away from her.
“You did this.” Ambrosine extends an accusing finger at me, perhaps Ten. Perhaps both. Violence charges the air. “You, who are nothing. No one. You think you have the power to defeat me? A mistake. The last one you’ll ever make, I assure you. You entered my realm, but you will not leave it.”
Behind him stand Leonard, Victor, Hans, Javier and Zhi, as if they are part of some Varsity All-Star team of evil. A growl reverberates low in my chest. After every terrible thing these men did to Ten, a savage need to lash out invades every muscle in my body. My hands fist, and I brace my legs apart.
There will be a battle today. Nothing can stop it.
I’ll take no prisoners.
Leonard holds a dagger in each hand. Victor is no longer inside a Shell. Somehow, he’s fully healed. Maybe Ambrosine is responsible. The effort could have cost him valuable energy.
Hans is young, fresh in his teens, full of overinflated pride. Zhi is wearing armor, just like his king. As if he hasn’t lost every bit of his battle skill by spending centuries behind a desk.
A grinning Javier stretches out his arms.
Will wipe the floor with that smile!
Shadows spray from his fingertips, like poisoned gas, and coil through the air. Denials screech inside my head as they zoom toward Ten. Must protect my wife, whatever the cost. My beautiful, brave wife. Her life matters more than my own.
Leaping, I move in front of her—
Only to fly backward as I collide with the darkness.
As I crash land, Ten stretches out her arms, and Light explodes around her, bright enough to make my eyes water.
Light and shadow collide, shaking the entire realm. If I’d been standing, I would have fallen like everyone else. Both Javier and Ten flinch, but remain on their feet.
The Light manages to chase away some of the darkness behind the Abrogate—revealing untold men and women, boys and girls climbing to their feet.
Myriad’s brand-new Varsity All-Star team?
“Now,” Javier commands through clenched teeth.
The crowd mimics Javier. Arms stretched. Shadows summoned.
Anger chews me up, but dismay spits me out. The urge to pick up a dagger and just start slashing is fierce. I’d like nothing more than to take out each and every Abrogate. And they are Abrogates. Probably the ones from the warehouses I overheard Ten talk about. This group wasn’t here when we first arrived.
Hurting the people determined to harm your loved ones feels good…for a time.
Wait. Plan. What is best for my team? “I need tae take them out, Ten?” The words are meant as a warning, but they emerge as a question. If I act, death will reign. Exactly what my girl doesn’t want to happen. Is there another way?
A groan of exertion escapes her, and my hands clench. The shadow-wielders might be new and inexperienced, but they are powerful, and they are bombarding Ten with darkness. Clearly! Sweat sheens her face, and strain pulls at her mouth. Her arms tremble.
She’s so strong, so determined. Seeing her weakened like this hurts me. How can I help her? What can I do?
Archer, Clay and Reed surround her, close their eyes and…impart their Light to her? The beams brighten, and the Abrogates waver. Color begins to return to Ten’s cheeks.
Relief threatens to wipe me out. But I can’t take a single moment to bask. The Abrogates must be stopped for good. Before my wife is harmed irreparably.
A war cry brews in my throat as I launch forward once again. I quickly pick up the pace, running. Sprinting. Yes, yes. I can do this.
I can help Ten without compromising our goals.
Ours. Not just hers. I’m in it to win it.
Winning = saving those we can.
Light explodes through my veins as I dive at Javier, intending to take him out first. Noticing me, he tosses a shadow in my direction as if it’s a javelin. That shadow nails me in the chest. Pain! My heart stops as I fly backward. Another crash-landing steals the air from my lungs, but I don’t care.
What is pain in the face of victory?
Back on my feet, I start sprinting again. This time, I attack multiple Abrogates from the side. Like pins hit by a bowling ball, rows collapse. Different clinks reach my ears, and I grin a cold grin. I know that sound. Fallen weapons. Where is…there! The glint of a sword.
As my numerous victims lumber to their feet, sheer grit propels me to a sword. I swipe up the weapon, race forward, and fall to my knees—as I slide forward, I start hacking.
Screams of pain mingle with bellows of shock. Bodies pile around me, and Lifeblood pools. I purposely hobble the Abrogates rather than rendering a single death blow.
But mercy sometimes comes with a cost.
They continue reaching out, casting shadows. Hurting my girl.
Rage packs its bags and moves in to my chest, breathing for me. It is a fire that burns. Smoke fills my lungs, my nose, even hazes my vision. My heart wants to jump out from behind my ribcage and rest at Ten’s feet.
I will save her, and if need be, I will not be nice about it. If my hand is forced, I will unleash pain like these Abrogates have never seen.
Mess with Ten, suffer.
Then, a miracle happens. Logic supersedes emotion. I am no longer Myriadian, controlled by what I feel. I am Ten’s man.
My rage cools as logic tells me I do not have to be worked into a foaming-at-the-mouth lather to unleash pain. I gave these Abrogates a chance. They chose to continue harming Ten, as well as others. Now they will be disabled.
Calm but focused, I hurry to my feet. The sword is an extension of my arm as I work my way through the crowd, removing arms, hands and even legs. Painful blows, but if the Abrogates get help in time, not fatal.
A blast of darkness suddenly slams into me. Agony sears me as I’m hurled through the air. I crash land in front of Ambrosine, and skid backward. The sword flies from my vise-grip, and I curse.
Down, but not out. I will prevail.
My former Secondking glides toward me. Bring it.
Biscuit, Deacon and Clementine appear in a blaze of glory, just in front of me, carried on a beam of Light, stopping him.
I grin. Backup has arrived. Now the party can get started right. Biscuit will tear in to anyone who threatens his charge.
Then a Troikan General shoves through the crowd of Abrogates, no one able to stop him. I recognize him. Alejandro Torres. At his side is—I tense. Lina Lockwood. Ten’s killer. My killer.
I don’t know whether to take her out or thank her.
Can we bring home this victory?
My gaze finds Ten, and my heart constricts. She’s on her knees, color gone again; any second she might fall flat on her face, and the realization devastates me.
At least the shadows slither back, as if they, too, are weakening.
Ten’s head bows. Then, she goes still, and I think my heart stops. The shield of Light fades.
Biscuit gallops to her side, licks her face. “You get strong now, hooman. Now, I tell you!”
Deacon and Clementine take up posts of defense behind her. Lina crouches at Ten’s left, and Alejandro at Ten’s right. I’m grateful that they’re helping her, but she’s my wife. Mine to protect. I’m willing to give my life for her, again and again and again.
Panic drives me to her side. I push the General aside and link my fingers with Ten’s. She’s trembling. There’s only one thing she needs. Something I can give her. My Light. What I have left, anyway.
Willingly. Gladly.
Gratefully.
I push the beams across our bond, and there are no obstacles to impede the transfer. Color returns to her cheeks once again, and the sweat on her skin dries. Relief makes me light-headed.
All of us, we are loyal to this girl. Passionate about her safety. Because of her, we are free.
Loyalty, passion, liberty.
Love.
“Myriadians.” Trembling with rage, Ambrosine points at Sloan and Erica. “Return to your family, or suffer the fate of the Troikans.”
He calls his own people by their realm? I grind my teeth. “What are their names?” I call. “Do you know even one?”
The response is immediate, and snapped. “Names mean nothing.”
For years I loved this man, and wished he had been my father. He never cared about me, or any of us. “I’ll take that as a no.” My tone is dry and prickly but inside, I’m seething.
“I am no longer Myriadian,” Sloan announces. “I hereby pledge my allegiance to Troika forevermore.”
“Troika has my allegiance, as well. Now and always.” Erica nods, certain. She’s a true friend I once treated poorly, but never again. Honest friends, those who are loyal to the end, are priceless. I can’t afford to lose one.
Think! If we have any chance of winning this, we need to take out Ambrosine. To take out Ambrosine, we need…
Time to figure it out.
I can buy us time.
But first, I’m prompted by the Grid to say, “Come up with a way to cull Ambrosine from his Abogrates, and negate his powers.”
“Okay, sure thing,” Raanan retorts. “Not like that last task is utterly impossible.”
One of my brows arches. “For Troikans, all things are possible, right? But go ahead. Refute your realm’s campaign promises.”
A muscle jumps underneath his eye. Silence.
Yeah. Didn’t think so.
“Killian.” Ten lifts her head, an action that seems to require more energy than she currently possesses. “Know what…planning. Will find…another way. Don’t endanger yourself.”
Her voice sends a thrill through me.
Trying to protect me, even now? I caress her cheek, luxuriating in the softness of her skin before I stand. I’m doing this. “Hey, Ambrosine,” I call, my use of his name a dig at his pride. “Remember me? Or should I reintroduce myself. I’m Killian Flynn, yer doom.” Nothing mocks a super villain quite like B-movie dialogue.
He inhales sharply in a clear attempt to control his temper. “Even if Myriad falls, Miss Lockwood will die this day. This time, she will not come back.”
Must keep him talking. “You can’t stop us. You can’t stop her.”
“We already have, you just don’t know it.” He smiles now, smug. “Javier found a way through her blocks—you.”
No, not in this lifetime. But even still, unease takes a swing at me.
Unease has claws. I flinch.
The new Abrogates look to their king, unsure, and he offers a clipped nod.
What are they going to—
Shadows invade my mind in a burst, and a new surge of pain follows, my temples throbbing. I’m quaking as I clutch my head, my forearms pressing against my ears, my fingers weaving together in back.
Fury burns through me. Fury and fear. So much fear. What if they can use me to harm Ten?
Sweat pours down my temples.
Can’t yield. Not for a second. Again and again, I’ve watched Ten battle her fears. Most people cave, never realizing they were already defeated the moment, the very second, they stop fighting. I will not stop fighting. Not now, not ever.
As dust rains from above, I drop to my knees. A shadow springs from the Secondking, wraps around my neck and yanks me across the way, until I’m kneeling directly in front of him.
What did Ten say? Light is love and love is strength. I focus on my love for my wife and fight my way back to my fee
t. I’m panting, sweating, agonized. My teeth are clenched so tightly I fear my jaw will snap.
“Ambrosine,” Archer calls from behind me. No longer does he refer to the male as his father. “Stop this.”
“Never,” the Secondking replies.
“Killian?” Archer again. “What do you want me to do?”
I remember the days when we fought side by side. Then the days we fought so hard to hurt each other. Now, he’s willing to risk his life to help me?
Trust. Loyalty. Honor.
Love.
They take the broken pieces inside me and help weld me back together again. Giving me the strength to say, “Let him continue.” Must find a way to use Ambrosine’s plan against him… “I’ll win.” A taunt.
A taunt that reaches its intended target. Eyes flashing with fury, Ambrosine motions Javier over.
The Abrogate steps in front of me, flattens his hands on my temples, and sends his darkness whisking through my mind, an ice-cold gale force I struggle to resist. Because, at long last, I see the shadows for what they really are: bondage.
These shadows do their best to tempt me, even as they barrage every barrier I erect. Let us in…will make everything better…all your pain will go away…earn respect…
Panic feels like a thousand needle pricks against my skin. No, no. Fight! So often Myriadians have claimed the Troikans are slaves to their rules, but all along, the opposite has been true. We served the will of greed, nothing more, ignoring the plight of others. We waxed poetic about luxury and frivolity, taking what we wanted, when we wanted, citing might equaled right. To us, the weak deserved their lot.
Today, I’m the weak one. I need help, but my fellow kinsmen won’t lift a finger in my defense. A bitter laugh sounds inside my head. Ten warned me this day would come. She said the weak do not stay weak and the strong do not stay strong, there’s a constant ebb and flow, and we need each other to survive it.
With a cry from deep in my soul, I push the shadows and their ice away from the Grid, away from Ten and Troika.
Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife Page 109
