Everlife

by Gena Showalter

  I reach for the knobs in the stall blindly...there! Twist. Water sprays from the spout. Soon, steam fills the room, creating a warm, dreamlike haze. As Killian approaches, my tremors intensify. His hand brushes mine, and I jolt. My breaths go shallow.

  "Yer in control, yeah," he says. "We do nothin' you doona want tae do."

  I nod. He twines his fingers with mine and pulls me into the stall. The hot cascade of water rains over me, soaking my hair, my skin.

  "Goin' tae clean you up now." He shampoos and conditions my hair, then picks up a bar of soap and lathers me up, his fingers traversing every inch of me, even beneath my undergarments... Such an intimate act. "Or am I makin' yer thoughts dirtier, hmm, lass?"

  "You are." I'm aching and quaking, reduced to sizzling need. "But I will resist until you remember me."

  "I remember what you taste like. Heaven."

  Shivering, I take the soap to return the favor, driving him wild. "Our first time--my first time with anyone--will be a memory I relive again and again for the rest of my Secondlife. I have enough regrets, and don't want this to be one of them. Don't want to be vulnerable with a boy I can't trust. I want to give myself to a boy I love and who knows he loves me."

  His muscles tense under my hands. My gaze chases the bubbles sliding over his skin, and I like my lips.

  Temptation made flesh...

  Stay strong!

  He cups my jaw, and I lean into his touch. "I think you like bein' the giver as much as the receiver, lass." He sounds surprised.

  "Why wouldn't I? Your body is a work of art. A true masterpiece."

  Water droplets catch in his eyelashes as he smiles. "Wet is a good look for you, lass. Strike that. Everything is a good look for you."

  Irresistible boy. I lift my lips to press against--

  What are you doing? Stop! I can't kiss him a second time. I won't be able to stop again. Look how little control I have right now.

  "We're clean," I say, my tone harder than I intend.

  Bending down, he nuzzles his cheek against mine and runs his hands down my sides to clasp my hips. "Yeah, but my thoughts are still dirty."

  A grin blooms. Charming boy. "I'm getting away from you before I decide to spend the rest of my life in bed with you."

  "I know what gets my vote."

  Laughing, I hop out of the shower and scoop up the towel.

  Killian exits soon after, drops his soaked underwear, and grabs a towel from the cabinet. I catch a glimpse of his perfect butt before he anchors the white cotton around his waist.

  He casts me an odd look before he stalks into the master bedroom. I follow just in time to watch him disappear inside the closet.

  "Killian?"

  "I'm dressing. You're welcome to watch if you'd like."

  His accent is gone again. Not a good sign.

  I probably should watch him. I mean, just to keep tabs on him. Got to protect myself, and all that.

  Just as I step forward, he exits fully dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Disappointment flares. He tosses a handful of garments my way, including a new bra and panty set. In neon pink. The tags are still in place, but my shadows do not care; they spring from hiding to prick me with jealousy.

  This. This is why I don't want to be with him until he remembers me.

  "You keep lingerie in your safe house?" I ask, one brow arched. "In my size."

  "I keep lingerie in all sizes."

  Ugh. The accent is still gone. "Why?" The same reason he has top-of-the-line conditioner in his shower, most likely. And I doubt it has anything to do with a dislike for split ends.

  "Better question. Why not? I recruit women. Women like presents. I like women." For some reason, he won't meet my eyes, and his cheeks are flushed.

  What's going on? He's not embarrassed. Or is he?

  "You used to like women," I grumble. "Now you like me."

  "And you're not a woman?"

  "I--oh!" I've talked myself into a trap, and I know it. "I'm a woman, yes, but I'm yours."

  He casts me another one of those odd looks, and I have no idea what it means. There's something almost...vulnerable about him.

  My Killian is never vulnerable. Is he?

  Silent, he heads down the hall. I hang back, exchanging one set of undergarments for another, then don the rest of the clothing. A tight, white T-shirt and equally tight leather pants. As soon as I'm decent, I comb my fingers through my hair and trail his wet footprints to a room on the other side of the house, where at least twenty Shells peer at me through empty eye sockets.

  He motions to a female with shoulder-length white hair and black brows. A silver hoop pierces her bottom lip, and the Myriadian symbol is tattooed on her neck. A black tank top molds to her very large chest, and a pair of short shorts displays the long length of her legs. Combat boots complete the outfit.

  Prick, prick. "Why do you keep female Shells here? And don't tell me they're gifts, because you can't give the humans you hope to recruit a Shell that is intended for a spirit."

  "Who said the gifts are always for humans?"

  Right. PRICK.

  He pops his jaw and says, "Just so you know, I've never brought a woman or girl or lover to this house. Human, spirit or otherwise. I've never brought anyone here."

  "Not even Erica?" The former lover who'd given him his tattoos. "You used to work with her. Among other things."

  "I remember. But she and I were never exclusive."

  How wonderful. He remembers Erica but not me. "As your Flanker, she chronicled your successes."

  "Also my failures. And yes, there were a few." There's a note of bitterness in his tone.

  Am I one of those failures he regrets? "Victors are adored, failures are abhorred, right?" A motto he's chanted on more than one occasion.

  He frowns, but nods.

  All right. Enough chitchat. We've got work to do. "Which Shell will you be using?"

  He points to a short, redheaded boy with freckles, and a laugh bursts from me.

  My Shell could eat his Shell for dinner. "We're going to make an odd pair." We'll stand out. Big-time. At least I think. Maybe all couples are mismatched in Myriad.

  "I've used the other Shells. These are the only two not associated with me. I'd give you the shorter male, but your walk is too feminine."

  I snort. "If that's your idea of an insult--"

  "At worst, it's a simple statement of fact. At best, it's a beautiful compliment."

  "--then we're going to have a good life together. Once you remember me, that is."

  He laughs, but sobers quickly. "Somehow, you always manage to surprise me."

  Doesn't like that I can make light of our bonding, too? Good. "So no one will know it's you and me inside the Shells?"

  "Exactly."

  "Are you sure? In Troika, Leaders keep a log of every Shell. They know who owns each and every one."

  "So do the Leaders in Myriad. But I made these, so there's no record of them anywhere."

  He made them? Hidden talent alert! Guess I should have known, though. He's a creative soul. He made my pi necklace, after all.

  "There are voice modulators in their throats, so even our voices will be disguised."

  "What about our eyes?" Every Shell has empty sockets. Anyone who looks at me will see my unique, mismatched gaze, and anyone who looks at him will see those crystalline flecks.

  "We'll wear sunglasses."

  "In the dark?"

  He shrugs. "We'll set a new fashion trend. Or bring back an old fashion trend."

  Very well. I step into my Shell. I had to practice for days to learn how to anchor, and now I do it with ease. Just boom, I'm part of the Shell and the Shell is part of me; the movement of my spirit directs the movement of the Shell.

  This Shell has gun Whells--Shells for weapons. Meaning, I can go in armed. His Shell has Whells, too, even for his wrist cuffs.

  "Do people walk around armed in Myriad?" I ask as Killian straps a gun on either side of my hips.

  "Som
e of them. Most of them." Killian enters his Shell, anchoring just as easily, then holds out his hand.

  The moment has come. One of the reasons I agreed to bond with him. To enter Myriad. After all the hardships we've endured...putting everyone we love at risk...

  Was it worth it?

  We'll find out.

  Killian takes my hand, yanks me against him, and presses a kiss into my lips.

  "Do not leave my side," he says.

  "I won't."

  A second later, he transports us to the Veil of Midnight.

  MYRIAD

  * * *

  From: K_F_5/23.53.6

  To: Z_C_4/23.43.2

  Subject: I have the package We're on our way. Give me a day, just a day, to show the girl our world. I can convince her to help us. I know I can. Just as I know that whatever you have planned for her will fail. She's too stubborn. Torture won't break her. But I can. Let me do this. Ambrosine will thank us both.

  So. Here's the plan. I'll bring Tenley inside, and you'll give her a chance to fall in love with Myriad. If I fail--I won't fail--I'll return to Troika and personally end their Generals. War over, that easily.

  Face it. I'm bonded to her. If you hurt or kill her, you hurt or kill me, too, and I'm the only one capable of getting inside Troika. You need me inside Troika. Betray me, and lose the war. Your choice.

  Might Equals Right!

  Killian Flynn

  PS: I want Erica Morales released from the Kennels by the end of the day.

  MYRIAD

  * * *

  From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

  To: K_F_5/23.53.6

  Subject: Of course I'll have one of my men follow you, just in case you need backup. Take the time you need. You are a valuable member of our team.

  Once you've won over Miss Lockwood, we can visit the Kennels to free Miss Morales.

  Might Equals Right!

  Sir Zhi Chen

  MYRIAD

  * * *

  From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

  To: V_P_5/20.16.18

  Subject: It's almost time Mr. Prince,

  You'll be pleased to learn I've received another message from Mr. Flynn. He's bringing Miss Lockwood into Myriad TODAY. You are to follow the couple in an unrecognizable Shell, and stay out of sight. Understand? I don't want Miss Lockwood to recognize you. Honestly, I don't want Killian to recognize you.

  He wants his former Flanker, Erica Morales, released from the Kennels. Problem is, we executed her yesterday morning. I told him we'd do what he wanted, so, if you do end up in his crosshairs, continue the ruse.

  He believes we're giving him time to convince Miss Lockwood to join our cause. In reality, we need time to test the limits of her Light, and the strength of our shadows.

  The end justifies the means. You'll have your revenge soon enough.

  Might Equals Right!

  Sir Zhi Chen

  chapter thirteen

  * * *

  "Our Light loses nothing when it is shared. Quite the opposite. New Lights shine. The world grows brighter."

  --Troika

  Ten

  I stand before the infamous Veil of Midnight, amazed.

  I'm used to the Veil of Wings, a mountain of a wall with a very small doorway. This one has no wall, or doorway. The endless expanse offers a shower of ebony...water? No, it can't be. As citizens come and go, no one gets wet. Whatever the substance, it glitters with starlight as it flows from a sky of black velvet.

  My mother and father are inside. So are Dior and Javier. Erica. My friend Marlowe. Perhaps my Aunt Lina. Many Ends is inside. Which means Caroline--Killian's mother--is inside as well, ever since her Second-death.

  "Nervous?" Killian asks.

  I hate fear with the heat of a thousand suns, but... "Yes."

  "Don't be. I'll protect you the way you protected me."

  I take no comfort from his words. Ever since our shower, he's been distant. I've begun to wonder if he messaged his boss while he was in the closet. Guilt has appeared in our bond more than once.

  But, let's say he's telling the truth right now. Did I protect him? On my watch, he was Dazed and locked away. So. I kind of expect an army to be waiting for me the moment I exit this Veil.

  A group of giggling girls races past us, vanishing under the Veil, paying us no heed. No one acts as if Myriad's enemy #1 is nearby.

  Another comforting thought: Eron is on my side, helping me, even though I can't see him...or feel him...

  Feelings mean nothing right now.

  What's more, if Killian plans to betray me, Aunt Lina would have warned me. Right? She's warned me about almost every other disaster in my life.

  Aunt Lina. My heart rate increases. She plans to kill Killian. Maybe. Probably. One of her past visions might just support her claim. The song she taught me as a child...

  Ten's tears fall, and I call. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me. Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don't stay dry. Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing. Six seconds to hide, up, up, and you'll survive. Five times four times three, and that is where he'll be. Two I'll save, I'll be brave, brave, brave. The one I adore, I'll come back for.

  My mind locks on the last line: The one I adore, I'll come back for. I haven't yet come back for Killian--until today. My shoulders stoop. I'm back in Myriad. For him. For us. For everyone.

  What if Lina does manage to kill him? If I'm right, and slain Myriadian spirits go to Many Ends...Killian could maybe possibly probably wind up in Many Ends. Does his final destination depend on which realm he most identifies with? His location?

  Cold sweat beads on the back of my neck, but I pay it no heed. I used the song to navigate the sub-realm once, and I can do it again. Whatever happens, I can save him.

  "Ready?" Killian asks.

  Am I? "Wait!" I close my eyes to search the Grid. Shadows still writhe, stronger now, and Light still glows, but it's duller by the second. I'm tempted to use the Light I've stored. I'm dangerously low, weakened, and Light is my strength. But I resist. Before the bond, I could draw more Light to me whenever I wanted. Now, surrounded by darkness, I'll have nothing and no one to draw from.

  Right now, I'm going to keep my reserves on reserve...and trust that Killian has our best interests at heart, if not at mind.

  "All right. Yes," I say. "Let's do this."

  He takes my hand in his, the "bones" in his Shell smaller than I'm used to, while mine are larger. But his eyes...those eyes...they are the same as always. Eight flecks. A song. Oxygen. The reason I breathe.

  Loyalty to Killian. Passion for Killian. Liberty for us all.

  How much stronger will we be when we are genuinely united?

  He marches forward, determination in every step. I square my shoulders and follow on his heels, drawing closer and closer to the Veil of Midnight...

  My heart is a drum, and the beat is pure rock and roll. Soon there will be no turning back.

  For over a year and a half, I fought to avoid Myriad, enduring torture at the hands of Dr. Vans. Now I'm willingly walking inside.

  Liberty for us all.

  Finally we reach the fall of darkness, and I inhale a sharp breath between my teeth. Icy cold encompasses me, making me feel as if I've jumped headfirst into a bank of snow. Next, different sensations invade. An increase of fear. Certainty I will fail, and everyone I love will die. I'll die. The exact opposite of what I used to feel under the Veil of Wings.

  Then I'm stepping out of the darkness and into...deeper darkness. But it doesn't matter. Suddenly I can see in the dark. I have freaking night-vision, and it's kind of awesome. As Myriad greets me, my mind goes quiet. Eerily quiet. The Grid no longer hums with approval--or anything. Too many shadows cover it. More shadows than before. I'm comforted only by the knowledge that several of my rooms still brim with Light.

  I'm sweating now, panting. But okay, all right. At least I'm alive.

  I'm standing on a cliff that overlooks... Wow, just wow. The bustling city
looks like a king's treasure chest. Buildings are made from precious gems. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires. Moonstone, morganite. Opal, garnet, topaz. Crystal of every color. Amethyst, aquamarine, citrine. Pearls and peridot. Maybe even coral.

  Absolutely breathtaking. In the distance, there's a towering fortress surrounded by a wall made entirely of skulls. Giant spiders climb those walls. Dragons fly overhead. I count one...five...ten...twenty...thirty. They spew fire, burning the clouds and lighting up the sky.

  This is every gothic lover's wet dream, or sweetest nightmare.

  I breathe deeply, taking in the scents of night rain, mysteries and carnal fantasies--if those things had scents. Heady, almost drugging. Definitely drugging. My head swims.

  Close by, a cobblestone path winds around a wealth of buildings. Some are sleek and sophisticated. Others are lavish and ornate. Some stretch so high that they knife through the sky--or rather the Veil. The Veil of Midnight circles the entire realm.

  In Troika, flower petals fall. Here it's...stardust? I stretch out my hand to capture a few grains, but they absorb into my Shell and brush against my spirit. A sudden burst of cold leaves me shivering, and the sensation is not pleasant.

  To distract myself, I study the flashing neon signs that adorn many of the buildings.

  Party! Party! Party!

  Companions R Us

  Brew for You

  Men and women congregate on balconies, catcalling everyone who walks by. Or flies by. A few spirits have metal wings strapped to their backs. Shirts and skirts are raised, body parts flashed. Laughter is plentiful. Everyone is smiling, not a frown in sight. Drinks are passed around. In dark--darker--corners, men and women kiss and touch...and more.

  There's a little something-something for everyone, no vice left untapped.

  The sheer number of people overwhelms me. There are too many to count.

  "What do you think?" Killian ask. "Ever seen anything like this?"

  "Reminds me of the Red Light District in Amsterdam, only on a much, much, much grander scale."

  "You've been to Amsterdam?"

  "I have. I used to travel with my dad." He is--was--a Senator for the House of Myriad, tasked with ensuring Myriad's rights are never violated by Troikans or humans. Once upon a time, he loved me, and took me with him. Now he hates my guts.