Everlife (Everlife #3)

Speaking of, does Tenley find the resurrected TL attractive?

My hands fist, even though the answer doesn’t matter. I’m not going to think about her. I don’t like the way I feel when I do, as if I’m trapped in a car, careening toward another, unable to stop the collision.

A distant boom sounds. The house shakes, and the furniture rattles.

“They’re setting off bombs?” I demand, only to wince. My head feels as if it’s been split in half by a hammer. Sharp pains erupt in my limbs. My stomach churns, threatening to heave. Gashes appear on my arms and torso, Lifeblood dripping. Understanding dawns, followed by horror. “Your people are attacking Ten.” The words lash from me, an accusation as much as a demand something be done.

“No. They…” The color drains from Archer’s cheeks, and he sways. This isn’t the first time his body has betrayed him today. Sweat pops up on his brow, and he wipes it away with a shaky hand. “They would never risk hurting her or the realm.”

“So what was that?” I demand. Worry screams: Something terrible. “Why am I covered in wounds when I never moved an inch?”

“I don’t… I can’t…”

“Are you feeling okay?” Dawn flattens her palm against Archer’s forehead to gauge his temperature.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I mutter, my tone dry.

“You’re overheated,” she continues, as if I haven’t spoken.

“I’ll be okay.” Archer draws in a breath, holds, and exhales. “I just need a moment to catch my breath.”

“No concern for Ten?” I spread my still-bleeding arms. “You are wonderful friends. The best.”

“At the moment, there’s nothing I can do for Ten,” Dawn snaps at me. Well, well. The mouse can pretend to be a lion. “Besides. You are well enough to cause trouble, which means she is well enough. I must focus my efforts where they matter.”

“Doesn’t look like your efforts matter much to Archer, either.” His tremors are worsening by the second. This keeps up, and he’ll soon drop like a condemned house. “Not that you’ve done anything but talk.”

Pain and frustration have burned away any filter I might have had.

Hurt glimmers in her eyes. What, does she expect me to apologize for speaking the truth?

I need to leave, and I need to leave now. Someone has to look out for Ten. My life depends on it!

If I can lure Archer closer, I can expedite his nap and steal his weapons. Won’t get me out of the cage, but at least I’ll be prepared when I do break free.

Escape, weaken Troika, return to Myriad with Tenley.

Put the needs of others before yourself.

I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to halt an irritated verbal response. Two voices, both mine. Dark versus Light. Light can shove off. I’ll put the needs of others before myself never. Been there, done that, suffered for it.

“Anyone with half a brain could tell Archer needs water. He just rose from the dead. Maybe he’s, I don’t know, dehydrated.” Why does my throat feel raw, like I swallowed acid? “While you’re at it, you should probably get yourself a glass, too. Unless you want to pass out?”

Dawn glares at me, and I flash her my coldest grin. Then I blink—

Suddenly I’m running through a thick veil of black smoke. Even as I cough, it hurts. I wrap a strip of cloth around the lower half of my face. It helps, but not much. As I scale down a pile of rubble, hunks of metal cut my legs, making me wince. The dog leads the way. He glances over his shoulder to ensure I haven’t fallen too far behind.

Wait. I’m seeing the world through Tenley’s eyes?

My eyelids snap open, and once again I’m standing inside the cage. The smoke is gone, though the air in the house now feels a hundred times hotter.

Archer has regained his bearings. He’s standing in front of the bars, just as I hoped, though I never heard him move. The realization chafes. Still, I don’t strike out. Yet. My concern for Tenley is back, and magnified.

“You need to understand something,” Archer says. “That girl is one of a kind. She—”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” I need to return to her. The moment I close my eyes, I’m connected to her once again. The smoke is back, and it’s thicker, as if another bomb has been detonated.

Biscuit calls, “Hurry! He’s going to catch us.”

He? Who is chasing them?

Boom!

Directly behind me—her—something explodes. The ground rocks, and debris shifts. Directly beneath Tenley’s feet, the pile slides in different directions. She plummets with a gasp. Impact jars her, emptying her lungs. I know, because I’m struggling to breathe, as well. Our minds are dizzy, our vision hazy as Lifeblood drip, drip, drips.

Panic settles in my bones, setting my marrow aflame. Must save her—I mean me. Must save me. She could be harmed worse, which means I could be harmed worse.

I don’t want her—us—harmed.

A whimper draws her attention. One of Biscuit’s legs is trapped underneath a fat marble slab. She crawls toward him, uncaring when a shard of glass slices her thigh.

Her biceps tremble as she fights to lift the slab.

“Go,” the dog tells her. “I can’t walk. There’s no need for us both to die.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere without you. Here.” She yanks the vial of manna from her neck. “Drink—”

She goes still. A man with bright red curls ascends the pile, coming into view. She gasps, a name wafting over our bond. —Nico.—

Information follows the voice. Nico and Tenley died on the same day. Firstdeath. She considered him a good guy. They’ve had little interaction, and nothing turbulent. The One Who Shall Not Be Named must have considered him a good guy, too, because he found and locked up all the Myriadian spies, and Nico wasn’t among them.

Ambrosine hates his brother so much, he doesn’t allow his people to speak the name.

“Why are you doing this?” she demands. “How are you doing it?”

He motions to the hawk soaring overhead. “My guardian tracked you, figured out where you were heading and told me where to wait. Of course, he had no idea what I planned… Or maybe he did, and expected me to change my mind. Spoiler alert. I’m not going to change my mind.”

Biscuit growls at Nico and then snarls at the bird, a promise of vengeance.

—His reasons do no’ matter. End him, end the danger to your life.— I shove the command along our bond, my only means of supplying aid.

She gasps, and I know she’s heard me. As stealthily as possible, she releases the vial of manna and reaches for a small, sharp shard of glass. Good girl. Going for her swords would be too obvious.

Nico says, “After you attacked Victor, he came to me, admitted his feelings for me. We were going to be together— until he had to defect. Because of you.”

Another tide of information. When Victor Prince reached the Age of Accountability, he made covenant with Troika in order to spy for his father and ultimately lead the revolution to destroy the realm from the inside out. I’d had no idea, until too late.

Too late—for what? I scour my mind, but the shadows maintain a firm hold on the memory.

“Victor,” she spits at the redhead. “He’s a liar and a user.”

“No!” Spittle sprays from the corners of Nico’s mouth. “Troika voided his contract, allowing him to return to Myriad. I wanted to go with him, but I was denied. To be with him, I’ll have to go to court.”

—Throw the shard.—

She doesn’t. She says, “He only loves himself, Nico.” Her tone is soft, gentle. “He used you, just like he used Kayla. Probably many others.”

“No. He loves me.” He pulls a minigrenade from the pouch anchored to his waist. His hawk squawks in what sounds like protest. Clearly he—she—doesn’t want the Laborer to murder an innocent girl. Good bird. “To void my contract, I must do as Victor did.”

His message is clear. Victor tried to kill her, and Nico plans to finish the job. My rage returns, redoubles, a fever boiling in my blood, and this time, there’s no tamping it down.

—Throw the shard. Now!— The moment Nico pulls the pin, all hope will be lost. Both Tenley and I will die.