Biscuit sighs and taps her head with one of his meaty paws, quieting her. “Go inside.” He nudges me. “My crew will fortify the outside of the home. Fair warning, though. Despite our efforts, we will be found sooner rather than later, and we’ll have to fight our way out.”
“Killian is inside?” I ask, and I can’t disguise the tremor in my voice. “We should get him and go.”
Biscuit’s wagging tail slaps my leg again and again. “Freeing him will take time and patience.”
Well. “We’ll stay, then. Just…do me a favor and wait out here for a bit, okay?” I want a little privacy with my— with Killian.
Archer’s nod is stiff, and Biscuit looks as if I kicked him in the ribs.
I’ll make it up to both of them. Somehow. I rush past Raanan, Clay and Reed, who are arguing about their guardian animals, and soar toward the house. I need to talk to Raanan about his promotion. Need to confirm that he is, in fact, a Conduit. Later.
My heart thuds against my ribs. Anticipation propels me faster and faster. I jump onto the porch and burst through the front door. Eagerness and dread join the emotional deluge.
Ignore. Focus. Where is—
There. My gaze finds him, and I nearly melt with relief. At the same time, I come alive with awareness, every cell in my body aflame. He’s alive and well, seated on the floor, surrounded by metal bars. His expression portrays boredom.
Icy eyes look me over and heat. “There’s my sweet baby,” he says.
chapter seven
“Anger lasts but a moment. The things you do while angry can hurt others forever.”
—Troika
Killian
I’m beyond frustrated. I’m trapped in a home with a ceiling made of glass. Light streams into my eight-by-eight cage, which occupies a single corner. Normally, standing in sunlight while in spirit form brings pain. Today, I can tolerate the beams with only mild discomfort.
Another perk of my bond to Tenley.
As she looks me over, her relief is quickly replaced by a blend of fury and horror, her mismatched irises haunted and haunting all at once. What I expect to see but don’t? Fear.
In the small house furnished with only a couch, two chairs and a table piled high with study guides, she is a treasure. Basically, she’s my only source of hope.
“I hoped Biscuit was mistaken, but no,” she says. “Shamus caged you like an animal.” At her sides, her hands fist.
Biscuit? I know of no one by that name.
Tenley seems genuinely upset on my behalf, and I’m not sure what to think of that. Girls desire me, or obsess over me, determined to win what I refuse to give. Truth, commitment. Affection. But no one has ever truly cared for me, because no one has ever truly known me. Not the real me, anyway.
She must think she has a handle on my deepest, darkest secrets and desires. I don’t need my memory to know she doesn’t. She can’t. One, I can barely handle them myself. If I struggle, well, she’s definitely not strong enough. Two, she’s no different from other girls. If you’ve been with one, you’ve been with them all. The very reason it’s always so easy to walk away.
“Are you all right?” Tenley asks.
“I spent the last however many hours locked in a cage,” I reply, my tone sharp. “What do you think?”
“I think you’ll recover just fine.”
I’ve been scouring my mind, fighting my shadows. Fighting to recall who I am. More and more of my past has surfaced, though no interactions with Tenley.
What is truth, and what is lie? Who has my best interests at heart? The shadows or the Light?
The two war. Always they war. What one loves, the other hates. What one wants, the other opposes.
One fact needs no clarification. “I’m not a very nice person,” I say. It’s not like she hasn’t figured out that particular gem. I’m rude when I want to be, charming when I need to be and always self-serving. If I won’t look out for my best interests, who will? “Why are you here, helping me?”
“You’re a good guy,” she says, sounding confident. “You just haven’t figured it out yet.”
No, she’s wrong. Not only have I seduced women and lied about my feelings, I’ve also killed in battle just for grins and giggles. I’ve tortured countless Troikans for information and for vengeance. I’ve convinced humans to make the worst possible covenants with Myriad. For a bonus, yes— whatever a Laborer is able to cut from a human’s covenant, he can keep—but also for bragging rights.
I’ve turned negotiation into a blood sport.
I am no prize.
Tenley Lockwood should have run from me at our first meeting and never looked back. But here she is, flying through the door of my prison, and my body’s reaction is immediate. I feel as though I’ve been hooked to a generator. My heart races, my blood heats and my muscles vibrate over bone. I’m tense, waiting for some sort of blow to the solar plexus.
I hate it, almost as much as I love it, but at least I don’t have to wonder why. The bond. Always the bond.
I have no doubts about its validity now. Forget everything else. We can push our thoughts into each other’s minds. A Troikan and a Myriadian. Should be impossible.
So. For some reason I haven’t yet decided on, I pledged my Everlife to this girl. Even more astonishing, she pledged her Everlife to me. Why? And why did she come back for me? Earlier I threatened to kill her. Anyone with half a brain would stay as far away from me as possible, even if I called her baby and asked for help, as if I’m without other options.
“This brings back memories,” she says.
I arch a brow, doing my best to hide the depth of my curiosity. Must know! “Do tell.”
“You’ve been kenneled many times in your Everlife, and you despised every instance.”
I…remember. Yes. Kenneling is a custom in Myriad. Cage is stacked upon cage. Punishment is given for breaking the realm’s only rule: putting personal desires above the good of Myriad. A few times, my jailer told me he would release me if I begged. I broke his nose instead.
I beg for nothing. Not even my freedom. Helplessness is the one feeling I’ve never embraced, but I will never compromise my pride. I’d honestly rather die.
Wait. There is another emotion I abhor. The worst of the worst: Love. Love involves trust, and I trust no one. I realized it before, but with the few memories I’ve regained, I’m more certain now. People never stick around. Everyone bails, because selfishness is ingrained at birth and only gets worse with age.
Tenley steps to the side, allowing a ray of Light to shine upon me. An image suddenly flashes through my mind. Chains string her up, and crimson blood leaks from her nose, mouth and ears. Sweat drenches her, and her clothes are torn. She’s being tortured, but she isn’t breaking. Fire still crackles in her eyes.
All right. She might be stronger than I thought.
Admiration sneaks in. I fight it, even as I say, “How about you come over here…” I keep my tone light, my voice husky, almost seductive. “And free me. Conversation is overrated. I can think of better things to do with our mouths.”
“Freeing you is the plan,” she says. “Even though I kind of want to throat punch you right now.”
I blink with shock and disappointment. Not about the threat. Bring it. “What is wrong with you? Care about your realm, at least a little. Do not loose a wolf among sheep.”
More shock. More disappointment—in myself. I’m warning her now? What’s wrong with me?
“I can handle you.” She makes a gesture that is one hundred percent dismissive and zero percent acceptable. “Where’s my ring? And what happened to your accent?”
Her ring? She must mean the small, antique five-shooter that General Shamus took from me, despite the lack of bullets.
I wanted to kill him for his daring…and thank him. My head and heart had threatened to change places every time I looked at that stupid ring. Good riddance.
Everlife (Everlife #3)
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