Everlife (An Everlife Novel)

by Gena Showalter

  No longer can Killian maintain any type of facade. He rattles the cage and screams, “I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure you rot in Many Ends.”

  I use his outburst to my advantage, shouting again for my friends. —Archer! Raanan! Biscuit! Someone!—

  —Ten…—

  I suck in a breath. Archer! I’d recognize his voice anywhere, anytime. He may be in Troika, and I may have used up all my Light, but I’m still connected to him through the Grid.

  “What happened?” Victor closes the distance, then reaches out to clasp my chin. Problem is, he’s in the Shell and I’m in spirit form. His hand ghosts through me. Glaring at me now, he snaps, “Tell me!”

  —Archer. I used up my Light, and now I’m a captive. I—

  —No need for a recap, Sperm Bank. I know the gist.—

  Sperm Bank. The nickname he gave me the day we met. He said I had lady balls and an explosive temper.

  —Listen up. I’m with Clay, Raanan, Clementine, Kayla and Reed. Earlier I sent you a message explaining everything, but it bounced back. So here’s the condensed version. Our group has changed. We’re ALL Conduits now. Well, not Kayla. Not yet. Raanan is an Architect, like you. Okay, okay, I’ll tell her.—

  Maybe Javier’s punch damaged my brain, because the last part of Archer’s speech fails to compute. —First, I’m so happy for you guys. There are no better people for the job. Second, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. You’ll tell me what?—

  —Biscuit is insisting I let you know he’s with us. Anyway. We’re going to send Light across the Grid. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t. We’re new at this. Good news is, the princess thinks it will, in fact, work.—

  The princess has left the protection of the tunnels. Perfect! More Conduits means more safety for Troika. I can use whatever Light I’m given to fight Javier’s shadows.

  But what will happen to Killian? I stiffen. He reacted to Light so badly the first time.

  Doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, we’ll deal. Without Light, we might not survive this encounter.

  —Thank you, Archer.— All for one, and one for all. — But be careful. I’m with Javier, and he wants to spread his darkness along our Grid. If you begin to feel drained, stop.—

  “Enough.” Javier cups the sides of my face annnd the next thing I know, darkness is hurled into me.

  Oh, the pain; it consumes me. Gritting my teeth, I summon every bit of my remaining strength to erect a block and keep it—him—away from the Grid. Sweat beads in different locations. Ice seems to spread over my spine. I can’t breathe. I need to breathe.

  Finally Javier pulls back, and the darkness vanishes.

  The pain fades, and I begin panting. —Archer!—

  —Working on it, but…— The words are gritted. —We’re blocked.—

  No, no, no. Is the block I erected against Javier also keeping out my friends?

  “Well?” Zhi demands.

  “She’s resisting,” Javier snaps. Glaring at me, he adds, “Now Killian will pay the price.”

  Killian will pay the price either way. This way, at least, there’s a chance we survive.

  “You were warned, Miss Lockwood.” Zhi lifts a remote and presses a button. Volts of electricity flow through the metal bars of Killian’s cage.

  My entire body shakes. My vision goes dark, and in my veins, my blood begins to boil, muscle and flesh cooking.

  Agony nearly rends me asunder, worse than anything I’ve ever before endured. One second, two. I scream. Or try to. Suddenly the volts die. I continue to quake, my teeth rattling against each other.

  My gaze meets Killian’s, his beautiful eyes reminding me of open wounds. He may not remember everything about our past, but he hates what’s being done to me.

  “Again,” Zhi says.

  Javier reaches for me only to still as multiple voices call out greetings from the hallway.

  “Majesty.”

  “Your Highness.”

  “My lord.” Distress tinges each and every voice.

  Pulse after pulse of power hits the room. Hits me. My entire body shudders, my nerve endings buzzing.

  Ambrosine has arrived.

  While the people of Troika adore Eron, the people of Myriad fear Ambrosine. The contrast proves everything I’ve begun to suspect.

  Ambrosine must die.

  Zhi and Victor stiffen. Javier smiles. Interesting. He must see himself as prince’s pet.

  Then the door opens, and a man who can only be the Prince of Ravens glides into the room.

  He is so beautiful, with pale hair and eyes that glitter like diamonds, that I can only believe my eyes are deceiving me. His nearly translucent skin is flawless, his muscles well-honed and displayed to perfection even though he’s wearing a robe made of raven feathers and brushed with…stardust?

  A crown of shadows rests upon his head, a hundred pairs of red eyes within its depths, glowing like rubies as they watch the world with undiluted glee. On his hands are strips of metal. One for every finger. Each strip arcs into a sharpened claw at the tip.

  His power intensifies, his shadows growing darker, the hum of evil ringing in my ears. Zhi, Victor and Javier are forced to their knees. In the cage, Killian struggles to rise into a crouch, refusing to look as if he’s begging.

  Were I standing and at full strength…I don’t think I would have had the same reaction. When his shadows bump up against my Grid, they cringe and flee.

  Hope ignites. There might not be a better time to kill this man. Scratch that. He’s not a man. He’s an otherworldly being. There might not be a better time to kill this otherworldly being. I’ve never been this close to him, may never be this close again.

  Just…need…to…break…free. Argh! Though I struggle, my bonds hold firm.

  Come on, come on. Fight harder.

  Ambrosine destroyed the bridge that once connected Troika and Myriad. He promises a better life filled with excitement and untold pleasures, but he lies, cheats and steals. He can’t be trusted to maintain a truce, has proven himself treacherous at every turn.

  He claims he enforces no rule but one: Myriad comes first. And yet, he doesn’t always follow his own rule. He comes first. His wants, his desires. He’s selfish to the extreme, dooming his people to eternal war and endless torment in Many Ends.

  “Majesty.” Zhi lumbers to his feet as the Secondking’s shadows thin. “We are humbled by your presence.”

  Ambrosine must control the intensity of power he exudes; he can crank it up or let it simmer. I highly doubt he revealed the true depths of his strength just now. Why show all of your cards at once, when I’m already captured and restrained? Why not save the best for last?

  I’m not going to be able to kill him, am I?

  Hope withers, and fury ignites.

  No. No! I will not give up. This man—this being—is the epitome of hate. Hate will never be stronger than love.

  Long ago, Ambrosine allowed envy to lead him, and chose to betray his brother. Over the centuries, he has grown worse. Darker. In the end, his home mirrored his soul—a cesspool of jealousy and greed. He sends his own people to Many Ends when they experience Second-death. Just because he can. Maybe because he likes their pain.

  A person like that—he will not defeat me. Even if I’m faced with pain and the loss of my life, I will still choose what is right.

  I will choose love at the cost of everything.

  Victor stands, and nods a greeting to his father. Javier beams with something akin to hero worship.

  The Secondking glances at Killian—and nods with approval.

  “Majesty,” Killian says through gritted teeth. “I would like to speak with you privately about—”

  “Be silent.” The Secondking flicks a finger, and a shadow appears over Killian’s mouth.

  Killian’s eyes go wide. He begins to shake, as if a new round of electricity is flowing. He’s fighting against the shadow, I realize. But he’s weak and soon deflates. His emotions do nothing
to help. I feel the sting of rejection and dejection along the Grid.

  My stomach sinks, even as my heart aches. He pinned all his hopes on his king, and this is his reward.

  Ambrosine turns those diamond eyes on me, staring me down, but I refuse to cower. I’d rather die.

  “Well, well,” he says. My hatred for him is reflected back at me. “Finally I meet the little girl who’s going to win the war for me. Let’s get started, shall we?”

  TROIKA

  From: L_R_3/51.3.15

  To: 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, A_T_3/23.40.29

  Subject: New Conduits

  We’ve heard the rumors about Miss Lockwood and Mr. Aarons becoming something known as an “Architect.” Now we’ve seen proof. Raanan Aarons has turned other Troikans into Conduits. Archer Prince, Deacon Williams, Clayton Anders, Reed Haynesworth and Clementine Vickers. I think Kayla Brooks—a known traitor—is on the verge of changing, as well. She grows brighter every hour.

  Though Mr. Aarons has tried, he was unable to turn a single General into a Conduit. Why? I’ve reached out to Eron, but have not received a response.

  If we’re going to overcome this new Penumbra attack, we need more Conduits—we need us.

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Luciana Rossi

  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: I disagree

  For a Myriadian General, turning an ordinary citizen into Abrogate requires self-sacrifice. And the sacrifice might not even work. All they can do is infect a single person with Penumbra and hope for the best. (Like Miss Lockwood, I will name the disease without fear.) Yet, we must sacrifice no one for our advancement, and an Architect can turn more than one person. That is the difference between Light and dark. Light builds up. Dark tears down. And Miss Brooks is a former traitor. There’s a difference. Eron has forgiven her. So should we.

  We should be celebrating our victories rather than envying our members.

  We are leaders. So, let’s lead.

  The people Raanan has succeeded in turning into Conduits? The people aiding Miss Lockwood. We have done nothing but hinder her. And before you ask—hinder her from doing what?—I’ll tell you. She craves peace between the realms.

  Perhaps we should consider the same?

  I know. We tried to facilitate peace eons ago, only to endure one ambush after another. But at this very moment, I can almost hear Miss Lockwood screaming inside my head that the answer is simple. Myriad needs a new Secondking. The head directs the body.

  Is this worth considering?

  As for the warehouses, I have good news and bad news. I’ll start with the good. We have unexpected help. Sloan Aubuchon managed to fight her way free of the pole. She’s doing her best to deactivate the many alarms. If a single one is triggered, every potential Abrogate in all eighteen warehouses will wake, a Buckler will fall around the buildings, trapping our men inside while allowing the humans to leave.

  Be ready to act at a moment’s notice.

  Bad news. Someone told Myriad about our Architects, new Conduits, and our plan to sneak inside the warehouses and cleanse the infected before anyone knows we’ve been inside. The Bucklers we’ve placed around the buildings will not hold much longer.

  Light Brings Sight!

  General Alejandro Torres

  chapter sixteen

  “Do not wait for what you want. Take what you want.”

  —Myriad

  Ten

  Hours pass. Perhaps days. One agonizing moment bleeds into another. If Javier isn’t flooding me with darkness, Victor is electrocuting me. My muscles aren’t just cooked; they’re burnt to a crisp. The blood in my veins boils. I have no Light, no strength and I desperately need both, but I can’t drop my shield. I just can’t. Javier will flood my friends with darkness before they can fill me with Light.

  Killian has fared no better. He’s as soaked in Lifeblood and sweat as I am. His lips are gnawed to ribbons, and multiple bones are broken from the strain of clenching muscles.

  Again and again he’s threatened to murder every man in this room, each threat more brutal than the last. He kicked off with decapitation, then vivisection and finally ended with peeling everyone like an onion.

  Now he’s a panting, sweaty mess, and he’s watching me. For a moment, only a moment, I think I see gut-wrenching guilt, soul-shattering regret and agony. Mostly he radiates determination. His nostrils are flared, and a vein is bulging in his forehead, as if he’s exerting pressure. And yet, he’s sitting perfectly still.

  I wonder if he’s attempting to help me? If he’s the reason I’m able to hold the shield, despite my weakness?

  Too little too late.

  Love, always love, even in the face of the worst betrayal.

  “How is she doing this?” Javier demands.

  Perhaps he would have succeeded already, forcing his shadows along my section of the Grid, if not for his anger, frustration and embarrassment. He hates that he is failing in front of his new king, and his emotions are getting the better of him.

  Though my jaw is nearly unhinged, my tongue swollen, I manage to slur, “Easily. You’re weak. You can’t—”

  Slap.

  “—win,” I finish. If I can push him over the edge, he’ll no longer pose a threat.

  Slap, slap.

  “If I link to her, she will die instantly,” Ambrosine says, anger crackling in his tone. “She’s of no use to us dead. Yet.”

  “Try harder,” Zhi snaps at Javier.

  “Don’t be afraid to break her.” Victor clenches his fists, and it’s clear he wants to be the one tormenting me. “Break her!”

  With a roar, Javier shoves his palms against my temples. He uses so much force, I’m pretty sure my skull cracks. Thousands more shadows flood my mind, each one beating at my shield. Every strike sends a lance of pain through my head, and I scream and scream and scream. Unconsciousness beckons, but even still, the shield holds strong.

  But Archer’s voice is stronger and fills my head. —Ten! Drop the shield. Now!—

  —No. Can’t.—

  —You won’t.—

  Exactly. —I won’t risk you.—

  —Trust us. Please. Let us fight him for you.—

  I…won’t. Zero! I won’t. If my friends fail, Myriad will prevail and Troikan will lose the war. I love them too much to risk them.

  Will fight…on my own…

  No, not alone. Eron is with me always, yes? And Killian is here. The shadows. So many shadows. I’m consumed by hatred for Ambrosine, and an icy determination to defeat him. I won’t give in—won’t give these men the satisfaction of defeating me. Revenge is sweet.

  “Let. Me. In,” Javier snarls.

  “Die.” I laugh in his face, knowing there’s a fresh coat of Lifeblood on my teeth.

  Hissing, he hits with another blast of darkness. Still I laugh. Oh, how I adore making these men shrivel up with frustration. Although, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. I’m exhausted, utterly drained. Without the shadows, I would have caved already.

  “You,” the Secondking says in a chilling tone. He glares at Killian, who is drenched in sweat, cut and bruised, and barely able to hold up his head. “If you want out of your cage, you’ll gather what remains of your strength, break through her barriers and allow my Abrogate entrance. Do this for your realm. Do this for your king.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. Swallowing my panicked pleas, I peer at Killian, beseeching him. I want to shout through our bond, Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this. But I remain silent. Strong or weak, he can use our link to orchestr
ate my doom.

  The shadows laugh, gleeful, as fear squeezes my throat, and air wheezes from my mouth.

  Killian’s gaze remains glued to the Secondking. “You lied tae me and locked me up.” His voice is raspy, as broken as mine. “Of course I trust you tae keep yer word now.”

  Ambrosine’s features twist with disgust. “Must you sound so…poor when speaking to me?” He lifts his chin. “The end justifies the means. Lies are sometimes necessary to facilitate a desired result. You know this. If you put your realm first, as you once swore to do, you would understand—no, you would welcome the sacrifice I’m asking you to make.”

  Terrible silence. Killian flicks me an unreadable glance, and my heart sinks.

  —Please, Killian. Don’t do it.—

  “Lies,” Killian says, his voice roughened by abuse, “are never necessary. Trust is too important.”

  Seconds pass before his meaning clicks. My heart flies. He knows he picked the wrong team. He’s going to fight for me, not against me. Unless this is another trick? Could be.

  Must remain guarded at all times, with everyone.

  I love him, but trust is another story.

  “Enough.” The Secondking’s crown of shadows splits in two and slides down his arms, stretches past his hands and culminates into razor points. “You. Leader,” he says to Zhi. “If your man cannot break Miss Lockwood, then we will kill the humans infected with Penumbra. Those who exhibit the traits of an Abrogate.”

  What, does he not know the names of his own people, and yet he knows mine?

  “The warehouses are currently surrounded by Troikan armies,” Zhi replies.

  “Perfect.” The Secondking smiles. “We’ll use the Abrogates to kill them, too.”

  Cursing, Javier drops his hands to his sides. He’s panting, unable to catch his breath.

  —Archer! Stop trying to give me Light. Tell our Generals that Ambrosine is sending men to the warehouses to kill the infected so they can try to infiltrate my Grid, harming everyone in Troika.—

  —We aren’t giving up, Ten. You…need…Light.— He roars as he continues to push.