Everlife (Everlife #3)

As we’re doing now? “Interesting, considering I’ve never waited for anyone.”


“You said you’d wait forever for me.”

Another lie. Except…

I’ve never wanted anyone this intensely.

Slowly, so slowly, giving her time to avoid me if that is her choice, I lift my hand toward her face. She merely lifts her chin another notch. The closer I get to contact, the tenser we both become. Then my fingertips are on the rise of her cheekbone. A tremor rocks her at the same time that whitelightning arcs through me.

Whitelightning…pleasure.

Undiluted bliss.

With a grunt, I drop my arm to my side to sever contact. I’d wanted to tease her, as well as put her on the defensive by saying something smarmy like, We can touch now. How about you hit your knees, baby, and drink me down. At the moment, I can’t work a single word past the lump growing in my throat.

The front door of the house suddenly bursts open, and a new snarl leaves me. Archer Prince, a boy I despise with every fiber of my being, stomps inside, a massive whiteand-brown dog at his side. A tiny Chihuahua trails behind them.

My mind locks on a single thought: Archer was dead, and now he’s alive. I watched him die. We were in the middle of a battle and—

Shadows sink their claws into the memory. Distorting my view of it? I wince.

“I said I would prove spirits that experience Second-death never return to the Land of the Harvest. Well, here is my proof.” Tenley sounds almost smug. “Fusion is a lie.”

“For Troikans, at least.”

Now she sputters for a response.

Not by word or deed do I reveal she’s set my mind on a new path. Could Fusion be a lie for Myriadians, too?

A bolt of Light slams into the shadows. Hisses erupt. Darkness scatters. Despite a flare of pain, a memory clicks into place. I’ve heard rumors that Troikans can be resurrected; Light is life. That Myriadians cannot be resurrected because shadows are, supposedly, death.

Perhaps Myriadians could be resurrected, as well, if our Secondking would let us? But in order to preserve the illusion of Fusion, the dead must stay dead.

Not that Fusion is an illusion. Truth…lie… Suspicion niggles the back of my mind.

If this is true, the other might be true as well, and more than the Unsigned go to Many Ends.

Unease slithers through me.

Archer’s copper gaze skips over me to land on the girl. For some reason—that treacherous bond, no doubt—I’m not happy that another guy is looking at her, and she’s looking back.

Can’t get her to Myriad soon enough. Will use her against Troika, lock her away and finally wash my hands of her.

Blue flashes from Tenley’s comm. With a single tap, a glowing message appears just over her wrist. I’m unable to read the words, but she hasn’t received good news. Her color fades. She frowns.

“We’ve got problems,” Archer says.

“Tell me about it,” Tenley mutters.

“The army…it’s already here.”





TROIKA



From: Unknown

To: T_L_2/23.43.2

Subject: Hi

Did I tell you I died? I’m sorry I killed Killian.

I cried. You cried. I cried some more. I’m glad my husband made it up to you.

Light was the answer. Light was always the answer.





TROIKA



From: T_L_2/23.43.2

To: Unknown

Subject: Aunt Lina?


Let’s face it: If anyone could find a way to reach me in the Everlife, it’s you. But I need clarification about, well, everything you said. You died, or you will die? Are you in Myriad, or will you wind up in Myriad sometime in the future? Please—PLEASE—help me understand.

And what do you mean, you killed Killian? Tell me every detail! You have to know I won’t let you hurt him. I will stop you—wait. Is that why you die? Do I kill you? (If you aren’t already dead, that is. Ugh, I’m confusing myself.) Second to last question: If Light is the answer, what is the question?

Lastish query (on my part): Who is your husband? You and Uncle Tim are divorced, and you’ve never remarried.

Light Brings Sight!

Conduit-in-training,

Ten Lockwood





chapter eight



“Make others fear your anger now, and save yourself heartache later.”

—Myriad

Ten

Anger and frustration mount as Lina’s message plays through my mind. Neither of which will do me any good right now. Lashing out will make a bad situation worse.

My emotions cannot dictate my actions. Right. I block the message and all its implications—for now—and focus on the matters at hand.

Bea growls at Killian, the cutest little bundle of ferocity I’ve ever seen.

Killian growls right back, though there’s no heat to the action.

Unable to trust my husband at my back, I step away from him and toward Archer. Bea goes quiet, but turns her focus to me, as if daring me to make a move against her charge.

“How many soldiers?” I ask him. “How many Generals?” A sense of urgency kicks my heart into a gallop that would put our zebras to shame. “Where are they?”

“Two hundred soldiers, led by Luciana and John,” he replies. He’s pale, little tremors shaking him on his feet. “They—”

“Hey. Are you all right?” I ask, fighting concern. Leaving the Rest couldn’t have been easy for him. There, he’d had peace. Here, I’ve tossed him straight into war.

He continues as if I never interrupted. “—just exited the nearest Gate. I’m guessing they want to capture you and lock you up until they can find a way to break your bond with Killian without killing you.”

John Blake. I don’t know much about him. Considering the current location of his army, I have roughly five minutes to learn everything I can. “What do I need to know about John? And was there any sign of Shamus?”

“No sign of Shamus.” He thinks for a moment, frowns. “There’s a back entrance to every city, one only Generals are supposed to use. Shamus could be sneaking in from the other side.”

Or he’s staying as far away from me as possible, because he fears what I’ll do to him the next time I see him.

“As for John,” Archer continues, “you should know he’s—”

“The one who’s called upon when capture rather than death is the desired result,” Killian interjects. “That’s why your boyfriend thinks the army plans to capture you.”

I scrub a hand down my face and mutter, “Archer isn’t my boyfriend. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Killian glares daggers at me, as if I landed a powerful blow. “What does that mean?”

A romantic relationship with Archer would have been easy, even effortless. Too bad I feel only sisterly toward him.

Archer’s gaze is unreadable as he glances between Killian and me. “John’s soldiers will do their best to split us up. They’ll want to capture one of us, at least. Once they succeed, they’ll torture the captive in an effort to control the rest of us.”

“If they fail, will they try and use Jeremy against me?”

“No. Never. Not for any reason.” Archer shakes his head, adamant. “He’s a child, an innocent, and he’s off-limits.”

Inhale…exhale…

Will I sacrifice my friends to save Killian?

Will I sacrifice Killian to save my friends?

Yes and yes. Sacrifice anything and anyone. Save yourself.

No and no. Sacrifice yourself to save the others.

Ugh! There are two sides of me. Troikan and Myriadian. Those sides will never agree. Not exactly a news flash, I know, but come on! The constant tug-of-war leaves me floundering.

I’d go with what I know, but any sacrifice I make will be in vain. Archer is right. The Generals hope to sever my bond with Killian. I can’t let them. I must get into Many Ends.

One of the reasons I choose to live in Troika? The people (supposedly) support each other in the best and worst of times. The people (supposedly) love each other. Didn’t take me long to learn that people are people, and no matter their realm, they are flawed. They make mistakes. Even Troikans sometimes let their emotions get the better of them.