“Chips are placed inside Myriadian comms,” he says. “Scanners scan a spirit, even when a Shell is involved. But there are ways around it. There’s a chip in my Shell that overrides the one in my comm.”
“Are you using stolen credits, then?” I ask, realizing he can’t use the ones he earned while using a Shell that isn’t linked to him.
“Only from the dead.” Noticing my confusion, he adds, “When a spirit experiences Second-death, their remaining credits are wiped from the system. But not right away. Not until the bodies are collected and identified. See, when we go to battle, we lose soldiers. It’s inevitable. I take note of who bites the dust. As soon as I return to Myriad, I break into the accounts of the fallen soldiers, take a small amount of credits, and assign them to a new owner.”
“So credits aren’t passed to family members?”
“Nothing is passed on to family members or loved ones. If you don’t do something to help the realm—”
“You don’t get,” I finish.
He nods.
“What will happen if you’re caught?”
“Depends. The number of credits you steal is the number of days you spend in the Kennels. But how will I get caught? The dead won’t come back to tattle.”
I detect a note of bitterness in his tone, that the system is so broken, and part of me wants to exploit it. Think of all the times Myriad has punished you, let you down, or hurt you. You don’t want to help the realm, do you? Instead, I move to the doorway that separates bathroom from bedroom and lean against the frame, watching as he works.
He curses. “Dior’s location has been blocked. I can’t track her.”
Disappointment flares, and I quickly tamp it down. “We’ll find another way.” We always do.
My thoughts travel another road, returning to the problem with his memory. Maybe seduction isn’t the answer. Not on its own, anyway. People only ever take from Killian. By his own admission, everything he’s gotten, he’s had to pay for. I can give him access to my mind—my heart— free of charge.
“How long are we allowed to stay in here?” I ask. The longer we’re here, the less time I can be watched by whoever is following us. And someone is following us, guaranteed.
He pauses, meets my gaze. Curiosity and interest glitter in his eyes. “One hour. Well, fifty-six minutes now. Why?”
A slow smile blooms. I walk toward him, stepping out of my Shell and saying, “Because I have plans for you.”
TROIKA
From: A_P_5/23.43.2
To: T_L_2/23.43.2
Subject: Something strange is happening You know how you’re an Architect now? Well, so is Raanan. He’s making other Conduits, Ten. Like, a lot. Deacon, Clementine, Clay and Reed and…drum roll, please…ME. Yes, you read that correctly. Me. Archer Prince. He touched me, that’s all, and a bolt of lightning shot through me. Suddenly I could see—and absorb—Light like never before.
So yeah, I rock hardcore. The entire realm is going batcrap crazy over this. (Be honest. Are sophisticated Conduits like us allowed to use the word batcrap???) I’m sure you want other updates, though I’m sure we can both admit I just gave you the most important one.
The princess: She’s come out of hiding. Not just to help Raanan, but to train us. In fact, with so many Conduits, she has no reason to hide anymore.
Warehouse: We haven’t engaged. Yet. Deacon figured out Sloan’s code (you know, the flash of three fingers, three times.) She was warning us. There are eighteen warehouses just like the one we found. The moment we trip one of many silent alarms, the machines shut down and the potential Abrogates wake up. A new battle begins.
Kayla: She’s doing well. She’s on her feet, and standing with us.
Have you found Dior?
Wish you were here!
Light Brings Sight ←Especially to me! Because I’m a Conduit!
TL Conduit Archer Prince
TROIKA
From: Mailer-Erratum
Subject: THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DEEMED UNDELIVERABLE
chapter fourteen
“There are no moral absolutes. What is wrong for one might be right for another.”
—Myriad
Killian
I have plans for you. As Ten saunters toward me, full of confidence and the embodiment of feminine wiles, her final words echo in my mind. I’m undone.
I look at this girl, and I want her. I scent her sweetness, and I want her. She has become the sun to my world, and I cannot help but gravitate to her. The loss of control enrages me, even as it thrills me.
The earth cannot touch the sun without being engulfed by flames. The problem is, I long to be engulfed. I’m as desperate as a man dying of thirst.
I should walk, no, run, from this room.
I’m trembling as I stand, my body thrumming with aggression, my blood hot. I step from my Shell, becoming myself again…and sit at the edge of the bed.
I’m not leaving.
The bond…it can’t be blamed. Not fully. Not this time. The bond isn’t responsible for Ten’s breathtaking smile, or the way her mismatched eyes light up every time she looks at me. The bond also can’t take credit for her stunning wit and staunch determination…or the trust she continues to have in me.
Trust I do not deserve.
She has no idea I’ve already sold her out. After our shower, I was reeling more forcefully than ever before. Or harder than ever before. Yeah. That, too. In more ways than one. Touching her had been a revelation. The softness of her skin nearly unmanned me. The little mewls in the back of her throat delighted me. Everywhere they traveled, my fingers left a trail of goose bumps, and it thrilled me. When she touched me…
My world upended. I craved more, then and now.
The craving consumed me, and I freaked out. I shouldn’t want her this much. Shouldn’t want anyone this much. At some point, I’m going to lose her, either because of the war, or because of my own foolishness. I thought, Why prolong the inevitable, making things worse for myself?
Rip the bandage. Move on. Quickly.
Next I thought, If I have to sacrifice myself and my desires to get this done, so be it. For my realm, and my king, I will do anything. I believe in both—yes?
As soon as I entered the closet to dress, I sent a message to my Leader, Sir Zhi Chen. Because of me, an ML was waiting for us just beyond the Veil of Midnight. Took me a while to pinpoint who, exactly, but only one Shell followed us to every location.
The second I lost him, I darted in here.
We’re at a serious disadvantage. Except for my cuffs, our weapons are bogus; they don’t work.
What have I done?
My dark side provides an answer: the right thing. If I hadn’t bargained for Ten’s life, death would have been a real possibility, if not an outright inevitability.
Now, Ten will stay safe. And so will I.
The true shocker: When I made the bargain, I wasn’t concerned about my future, only hers.
Right now, she’s looking at me with the same intense longing and desire that is smoldering inside of me. When she finds out what I’ve done, she’ll look at me with hatred.
“Mr. Flynn. Where are you? I demand a report.”
Zhi’s voice fills my head, unbeknownst to Ten, interrupting the moment, and I grind my teeth. I programmed my Shell to relay every incoming message via audio rather than text. Texts can be sent along the Grid, which is a danger while I’m connected to Ten.
Once again, Zhi speaks. “We have intercepted a message from Archer Prince to Miss Lockwood. There’s been a startling development. Either that, or the Troikans have realized we’ve hacked into Miss Lockwood’s feed and hope to trick us. But either way, something must be done ASAP.”
I palm a dagger and stab my comm, ending any further communications. “I’m out of my Shell,” I say, my voice roughened as I head off any questions she might have. “Doona want tae take any chances.”
My time with Ten isn’t up, and I won’t relinquish another second.
She reaches me and climbs onto my lap, bracing her knees at my sides. Automatically my hands settle on her hips to hold her in place. She smells incredible, like a field of wildflowers on a warm summer’s day. I breathe her in as if she’s a lifeline. Maybe she is. Or maybe she’s more than a lifeline.
Everlife (Everlife #3)
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