Everlife (Everlife #3)

He snorts. “I sneaked a smell of your butt when you weren’t looking, so we’re past rude, I’m thinking. I’m a mutt. A mix of everything, but mostly pit bull, shitzu and… poodle.” He grumbles the last, as if it’s a shameful secret.

I press my lips together. Do not laugh. “Poodles are the worst of the worst, huh?”

He snaps his teeth at me, and I can’t stop my laugh this time.

“I’m foaming at the mouth with envy right now,” Archer says, and I swear he’s almost pouting. “I want a guardian animal.”

“You have one,” Biscuit says. “She’s waiting for you at our destination, guarding the Myriadian.”

He rubs his hands together with glee. “What is she? A bear? Lion? Cheetah?”

“No, she’s worse. Her name is Beast.”

My dog—mine!—says no more, but no other words are needed. Archer is vibrating with eagerness.

As we whiz past a pile of rubble, my amusement fades, and sadness swells inside of me. All this debris… How many citizens did we lose? At least I can stop wondering about Nico. He may hate me, for whatever reason, but at least I know he isn’t trapped.

I also ache for the realm itself. The Tower of Might used to be a treasure trove of skyscrapers and arenas. A blend of futuristic and ancient Rome.

General Levi Nanne trained me in this city. He taught me how to enter and remain inside a Shell, which is a lot more difficult than it looks. He forced me to run for hours at a time, building my stamina. Mostly, he showed me that it’s okay to ask for help. Knowing your limits doesn’t make you weak—it makes you wise. And here…here is where Killian saved my life.

Myriad armies surrounded the realm, their shadows obscuring our outer Light. Victor—Archer’s younger brother—lured me here in order to kill me. If Killian hadn’t fought his own men outside the realm, allowing a beam of Light to shine through, strengthening me, Victor would have succeeded.

Poor Archer. He must know about his baby bro, and oh, it must hurt.

“Archer—” I begin.

“Tell me about Killian,” he demands. “About the bond.”

I’d say I can’t catch a break, but I’m currently on the back of a zebra, escaping an enraged mob. “I thought you knew everything already. And what’s your new beef with him? I asked before, but you never got a chance to answer.”

“I learned some things while I was in the Rest. Things he did to hurt others.”

Should have known. “He isn’t that boy anymore.”

Great! Now I feel like a broken record.

Archer ignores me, saying, “Indulge me. I’d like to hear about the bond from your perspective.”

Very well. As I tell him about the bonding ceremony and Killian’s loss of memory, he grows stiffer and stiffer.

“Before you tell me how foolish I was,” I say, “don’t. I followed my heart.”

“No, you followed your feelings. The Myriadian way.”

The old Archer would never speak to me so forcefully. But then, he isn’t the person he used to be. He’s grown a little harder, a little harsher.

“So I’m not allowed to be happy?” I demand.

“At the expense of others? No. You’ve put us all in danger, Ten.”

“No risk, no reward. I’m fighting for a better life. For all of us. I plan to—”

“That’s just it,” he interjects. “You plan. But you’ve allowed no one else to make plans—protections—of their own. For all we know, you’ve kicked off a new Penumbra attack with your bond.”

Ice crystalizes in my veins. Penumbra is a disease that infects humans and kills Troikans. Darkness invades the human body, and the more humans who are affected, the more Light that is sucked from Troikans. If an infected human dies after making covenant with Troika, they are hooked to our Grid.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe there will be a new outbreak of Penumbra, and I’ll be the cause. Maybe not. Either way, my bond to Killian was the catalyst for the crowd’s upset. I’m sure of it now. I welcomed the darkness into our midst, and because I project Light to other Troikans, I now project darkness, too.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and sighs. “I didn’t mean to upset you, only wanted you to see there are risks beyond your control. What’s done is done and can’t be undone. I know it, you know it. We can only move on from here. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, right?”

He’s using my own words against me. Words I’d spoken in my Firstlife, after Myriad had hired men to shoot me down, and Killian had killed the assassins. To save me, yes, but mostly in retaliation. Threaten his stuff, pay the price.

Not that I was his “stuff.” No, you know what? I was part of his stuff. Proudly. Just like he was part of mine.

“I’ll figure something out.” I will. I must. “I’ll die before I let harm come to someone else.”

“Pretty words. A soothing balm for your soul, nothing more.”

He’s wrong. He is!

But my tasks are mounting. Free Killian—get him out of Troika unharmed. Help him get his memory back. Protect my people. Facilitate peace between the realms.

“Tell me about Dior,” he says.

Dior Nichols. A human med student and once the love of Archer’s life. Oh, and I can’t forget she’s the reason the feud between Archer and Killian reheated. A feud that began years before. Two boys ended up in Myriad as infants, and though they grew up in different parts of the realm, they met and fell in bro-love. Killian reached the Age of Accountability first, and made Myriad his permanent home. Then, the worst happened—in Killian’s mind. Archer reached the Age of Accountability, and opted to make covenant with Troika, leaving Killian behind. Killian had felt betrayed, and lashed out.

Archer was Dior’s TL, and he did everything in his power to convince Dior to make covenant with Troika. Meanwhile Killian did everything in his power to sabotage Archer’s efforts. He manipulated, lied and even issued threats against her loved ones.

Terrible of him, yes, but his tactics worked. Only, he did more than gain a new recruit. He gained a new enemy. Archer’s love for Killian died that day.

Recently, Myriad decided to use Dior against Troika, and me specifically, by infecting her with Penumbra. With the help of Princess Mariée, Troika’s only other Conduit at the time, I kicked butt and took names, cleansing Dior.

Of course, you can’t help people if they won’t help themselves. Despite putting my life at risk to save Dior, she allowed her boyfriend—the guy she’d started seeing after Archer died, in an effort to mend her broken heart—to infect her all over again.

That boyfriend? Javier Diez. The first Abrogate in decades. My evil counterpart.

“What do you want to know?” I ask. Levi would have told him all about Dior’s attempt to defect to Troika.

Blood for blood. To go to court, one life must be offered in exchange for another. Hoping to save Dior, Levi risked everything for her…and paid the ultimate price. She forsook us and remained bound to Myriad.

“Have you seen or heard from her since court?” Archer asks.

“No.”

“What about the boyfriend?” He sneers the last word.

“No.” I wish I had more information for him, but I’ve been busy facing one disaster after another.

“What can you tell me about them?”

“They’re alive.”

He releases a heavy sigh. “That’s something, I suppose.”

After several twists and turns, we reach a neighborhood of small homes. Most were reduced to rubble, but a few are still standing.

“I’ve never been this deep in the city before,” I say. “Had no idea people lived on the fringes.”

“Every city has guards that live on site.” He hops down, sways as if dizzy, then helps me to my feet. “Their homes always surround the city’s edges, creating a wall of protection.”

A Chihuahua bounds over, growls at me, and races around Archer’s feet. “Hello, hello, hello. You’re here. You’re finally here. I’m Beast, though I prefer Bea. Guess what? I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

Archer’s gaze is as wide as saucers as it zooms to mine. As I cover my mouth with my hand to hold back a new round of laughter, Bea growls at me.