Everlife (Everlife #3)

Twenty-two, the atomic number for titanium.

I must be as strong as titanium right now.

On the sidelines of the neighborhood are countless dogs and cats, deer, alligators, bears, lions and tigers. I’m awed. The city has become a veritable zoo.

In the distance, hundreds of Laborers crest a hill. They are dressed in catsuits. Troikan armor. No more robes. They are ready for battle, even if destruction isn’t the desired result. Swords glint in the Light that shines through the Veil of Wings. Red, red rose petals tumble from the sky, dancing and twirling toward the ground.

Leading the way are Luciana and John.

John is dark-skinned and muscled to the max. A warrior without equal.

Animals stand beside their soldiers. A blast of fear almost sends me rushing back into the house. What if someone gets hurt? What if—No! Stop.

I rub the brand on my wrist. I must be the warhorse. Fearless. Determined. Nothing will stop me from my goal: victory.

The Grid hums with approval, causing the shadows to writhe. Here, now, it doesn’t feel like they’ve lost their hold on me. Not that I rely on my feelings. But either way, I know I’m going to have to battle those shadows. Soon.

One mission at a time. Focus. Right. My brows knit as the Grid guides me to push a ray out, Light from my eyes. Um, okay. But why?

Does it really matter? The Grid has never steered me wrong.

I close my eyes and concentrate on a ray of Light. Deep breath in, out. Then I shove the Light, and open my eyes. A ray shoots from me, zooming through the air like an arrow. My gaze follows it and—I gasp. I can see a great distance perfectly! Can see little details I might have missed otherwise.

Might have? Ha! Definitely.

Luciana is wearing a metal and mesh dress, a regal look, but also a deceptive one. I’ve worn something similar, and I know the design allows easier weapons storage, as well as more fluid range of motion.

I’ve met John once. We shook hands at my Welcome to Troika party. Though he is six-four, he appears tiny standing next to a massive steed. His shoulders are wide, his chest shaped like a barrel. John’s, not the horse’s. A thick golden beard covers the lower half of his face.

“I don’t recall you looking so awed when you met me.” Biscuit bumps into my leg. “The General isn’t as cool as me.”

“Oh, I was awed. Trust me.” When John glances in my direction, I duck. Silly. The Grid informs me I’m hidden. The ray of Light I blasted has blinded others from seeing me. So cool!

Biscuit bounds off in the opposite direction, and I give chase.

We slip past the Buckler Archer erected with zero problems. Not that I expected any. We can come and go as we please.

We trek through row after row of the tiny homes. The deeper into the city we go, the cleaner it becomes, until we reach an area without any damage at all. A forest stretches for miles, only it’s a forest like no other I’ve seen. A veritable rainbow. The trees have green trunks and blue leaves. Some of the bushes are pink, some red, some orange. Lush yellow grass carpets the ground.

Colorful birds fly from branch to branch, singing about love, love is always the answer.

According to Aunt Lina, Light is always the answer. Perhaps they are one and the same?

“By the way,” Biscuit says. “I wasn’t lying about your scent. Your butt is—”

“Hey!” I swipe up a rock and lob it at him.

He laughs as he ducks, then picks up the pace. A Stairwell looms ahead. I wonder where it leads, where we’ll—

A twig snaps behind me. Whirling, I reach for a dagger. But a whip of Light lashes out, snags around the blade and yanks. Shock. Dread. Both consume me. A shadowed figure about fifty yards away. In one hand, he holds the whip. In the other, a rock. A rock he hurls—

No. Not a rock. A grenade.

“Bomb,” I scream, diving for Biscuit to cover him with my body.

Boom!





chapter nine



“Believing is believing.”

—Troika

Killian

The moment Ten is gone, Archer seizes the reins of control, certain he’ll be obeyed.

“Everyone outside,” he orders. “Subdue anyone who makes it past the animals, and remember—killing isn’t an option. Dawn, you stay inside.” He slaps a Dazer into her hand.

As one of ten legitimate sons of the Prince of Ravens, Archer grew up issuing commands, expecting and receiving absolute compliance. At one time, even I obeyed him.

When we were friends, I envied his confidence. Then he defected to Troika, leaving me behind, proving once again that no one sticks around and “love” can’t be trusted. Now? The trait makes me see red. I grew up with nothing, had to work for every promotion, every scrap of admiration, yet still I am seen as less than nothing. He is looked upon as a savior.

I…envy him? I would rather die!

“Arming a Healer?” I sneer. “Why don’t you shoot her in the head and save her the trouble of shooting herself.”

Dawn grows pale.

Archer snaps his teeth at me, before saying to Dawn, “If anyone but the people in this room walk through the door, shoot first, ask questions later. And don’t worry. You won’t be causing anyone any kind of injury. If the prisoner threatens you, or hey, if he even breathes in your direction, shoot him, too.”

Though she’s trembling, she nods.

I swallow a curse, hating my helplessness. The urge to act, to rip those bars out of the way, bombards me. My hands twitch and my legs ready. But I remain seated, frustration mounting. I’ll succeed only in entertaining the enemy.

Archer casts me a smug glance, all game, set, match.

Rage…so much rage burns and bubbles inside me. A volcano set to erupt. But I tamp it down, and smile. A cold unveiling of my teeth. His time will come; I have only to bide mine.

“Dear ladies, genitalmen and assorted faunae of Troika,” I say, my tone smug enough to annoy, well, anyone.

“Did you say genitalmen?” Archer demands.

“Oh, good. Your ears are working.” I continue just as breezily. “If you Daze me, you Daze Ten. Have you already forgotten we’re bonded, and what happens to one happens to both?” As I speak, I rub at the brand on my wrist. The horse Tenley spent a good few seconds staring at.

She bears a similar mark. Meaning we have matching tattoos. Stab me, please. I must have convinced myself we’d last forever. Idiot. Nothing lasts forever. Not even truth, apparently. If Tenley is right and Fusion is a lie, my mother is trapped in Many Ends. My father, too. But who cares? My Secondking lied to me…like I once lied to so many others.

Sow and reap, as Tenley likes to say.

If she’s right about one thing, there’s a good chance she’s right about the other. Many Ends could be connected to Myriad…and I have value. I’m strong, capable and brave. I’m worth something.

Her words still ring inside my head. To her, I mean something.

Focus on what matters. Right. How can I support the realm, if that’s the case?

How can I not?

No realm, no future.

When Archer scowls at me, his little dog goes crazy, barking and growling. Finally she tells me the many ways she’s going to hurt me if I continue to upset her human. Disembowelment is at the top of her list.

Archer cracks a smile, and the dog goes quiet. Danger averted.

“You won’t prick my temper today,” he informs me. “I learned a lot in the Rest. Namely the extent of your betrayal. You set me up. You are the reason I died in battle.”

Am I? So badly do I want to remember, but the shadows clouding my memory are rooted deep. “What a neat trick, cooling the fire of your rage. Please. Teach me how to be dead inside, oh, wise one.”

A pause. A sad smile. “Perhaps one day you’ll turn your mess into a message.” Dismissing me, he skids his gaze over the others. “All right. Get to work.”

Everyone rushes to obey him without a single protest, the animals following. I’m envious. I’d love a pet of my own. Someone to look at me the way the dogs look at Tenley and Archer.