Everlife (Everlife #3)

No. No! I will not give up. This man—this being—is the epitome of hate. Hate will never be stronger than love.

Long ago, Ambrosine allowed envy to lead him, and chose to betray his brother. Over the centuries, he has grown worse. Darker. In the end, his home mirrored his soul—a cesspool of jealousy and greed. He sends his own people to Many Ends when they experience Second-death. Just because he can. Maybe because he likes their pain.

A person like that—he will not defeat me. Even if I’m faced with pain and the loss of my life, I will still choose what is right.

I will choose love at the cost of everything.

Victor stands, and nods a greeting to his father. Javier beams with something akin to hero worship.

The Secondking glances at Killian—and nods with approval.

“Majesty,” Killian says through gritted teeth. “I would like to speak with you privately about—”

“Be silent.” The Secondking flicks a finger, and a shadow appears over Killian’s mouth.

Killian’s eyes go wide. He begins to shake, as if a new round of electricity is flowing. He’s fighting against the shadow, I realize. But he’s weak and soon deflates. His emotions do nothing to help. I feel the sting of rejection and dejection along the Grid.

My stomach sinks, even as my heart aches. He pinned all his hopes on his king, and this is his reward.

Ambrosine turns those diamond eyes on me, staring me down, but I refuse to cower. I’d rather die.

“Well, well,” he says. My hatred for him is reflected back at me. “Finally I meet the little girl who’s going to win the war for me. Let’s get started, shall we?”





TROIKA



From: L_R_3/51.3.15

To: J_A_3/19.37.30, S_C_3/50.4.13, C_M_3/5.20.1,

Y_L_3/59.1.2, A_S_3/42.6.31, T_B_3/19.30.2,

B_S_3/51.3.13, M_V_3/54.5.8, J_B_3/19.23.4, S_J_3/62.5.5,

M_P_3/45.10.9, A_T_3/23.40.29

Subject: New Conduits

We’ve heard the rumors about Miss Lockwood and Mr. Aarons becoming something known as an “Architect.” Now we’ve seen proof. Raanan Aarons has turned other Troikans into Conduits. Archer Prince, Deacon Williams, Clayton Anders, Reed Haynesworth and Clementine Vickers. I think Kayla Brooks—a known traitor—is on the verge of changing, as well. She grows brighter every hour.

Though Mr. Aarons has tried, he was unable to turn a single General into a Conduit. Why? I’ve reached out to Eron, but have not received a response.

If we’re going to overcome this new Penumbra attack, we need more Conduits—we need us.

Light Brings Sight!

General Luciana Rossi





TROIKA



From: A_T_3/23.40.29

To: L_R_3/51.3.15, J_A_3/19.37.30, S_C_3/50.4.13,

C_M_3/5.20.1, Y_L_3/59.1.2, A_S_3/42.6.31,

T_B_3/19.30.2, B_S_3/51.3.13, M_V_3/54.5.8,

J_B_3/19.23.4, S_J_3/62.5.5, M_P_3/45.10.9

Subject: I disagree

For a Myriadian General, turning an ordinary citizen into Abrogate requires self-sacrifice. And the sacrifice might not even work. All they can do is infect a single person with Penumbra and hope for the best. (Like Miss Lockwood, I will name the disease without fear.) Yet, we must sacrifice no one for our advancement, and an Architect can turn more than one person. That is the difference between Light and dark. Light builds up. Dark tears down. And Miss Brooks is a former traitor. There’s a difference. Eron has forgiven her. So should we.

We should be celebrating our victories rather than envying our members.

We are leaders. So, let’s lead.

The people Raanan has succeeded in turning into Conduits? The people aiding Miss Lockwood. We have done nothing but hinder her. And before you ask—hinder her from doing what?—I’ll tell you. She craves peace between the realms.

Perhaps we should consider the same?

I know. We tried to facilitate peace eons ago, only to endure one ambush after another. But at this very moment, I can almost hear Miss Lockwood screaming inside my head that the answer is simple. Myriad needs a new Secondking. The head directs the body.

Is this worth considering?

As for the warehouses, I have good news and bad news. I’ll start with the good. We have unexpected help. Sloan Aubuchon managed to fight her way free of the pole. She’s doing her best to deactivate the many alarms. If a single one is triggered, every potential Abrogate in all eighteen warehouses will wake, a Buckler will fall around the buildings, trapping our men inside while allowing the humans to leave.

Be ready to act at a moment’s notice.

Bad news. Someone told Myriad about our Architects, new Conduits, and our plan to sneak inside the warehouses and cleanse the infected before anyone knows we’ve been inside. The Bucklers we’ve placed around the buildings will not hold much longer.

Light Brings Sight!

General Alejandro Torres





chapter sixteen



“Do not wait for what you want. Take what you want.”

—Myriad

Ten

Hours pass. Perhaps days. One agonizing moment bleeds into another. If Javier isn’t flooding me with darkness, Victor is electrocuting me. My muscles aren’t just cooked; they’re burnt to a crisp. The blood in my veins boils. I have no Light, no strength and I desperately need both, but I can’t drop my shield. I just can’t. Javier will flood my friends with darkness before they can fill me with Light.

Killian has fared no better. He’s as soaked in Lifeblood and sweat as I am. His lips are gnawed to ribbons, and multiple bones are broken from the strain of clenching muscles.

Again and again he’s threatened to murder every man in this room, each threat more brutal than the last. He kicked off with decapitation, then vivisection and finally ended with peeling everyone like an onion.

Now he’s a panting, sweaty mess, and he’s watching me. For a moment, only a moment, I think I see gut-wrenching guilt, soul-shattering regret and agony. Mostly he radiates determination. His nostrils are flared, and a vein is bulging in his forehead, as if he’s exerting pressure. And yet, he’s sitting perfectly still.

I wonder if he’s attempting to help me? If he’s the reason I’m able to hold the shield, despite my weakness?

Too little too late.

Love, always love, even in the face of the worst betrayal.

“How is she doing this?” Javier demands.

Perhaps he would have succeeded already, forcing his shadows along my section of the Grid, if not for his anger, frustration and embarrassment. He hates that he is failing in front of his new king, and his emotions are getting the better of him.

Though my jaw is nearly unhinged, my tongue swollen, I manage to slur, “Easily. You’re weak. You can’t—”

Slap.

“—win,” I finish. If I can push him over the edge, he’ll no longer pose a threat.

Slap, slap.

“If I link to her, she will die instantly,” Ambrosine says, anger crackling in his tone. “She’s of no use to us dead. Yet.”

“Try harder,” Zhi snaps at Javier.

“Don’t be afraid to break her.” Victor clenches his fists, and it’s clear he wants to be the one tormenting me. “Break her!”

With a roar, Javier shoves his palms against my temples. He uses so much force, I’m pretty sure my skull cracks. Thousands more shadows flood my mind, each one beating at my shield. Every strike sends a lance of pain through my head, and I scream and scream and scream. Unconsciousness beckons, but even still, the shield holds strong.

But Archer’s voice is stronger and fills my head. —Ten! Drop the shield. Now!—

—No. Can’t.—

—You won’t.—

Exactly. —I won’t risk you.—

—Trust us. Please. Let us fight him for you.—

I…won’t. Zero! I won’t. If my friends fail, Myriad will prevail and Troikan will lose the war. I love them too much to risk them.

Will fight…on my own…

No, not alone. Eron is with me always, yes? And Killian is here. The shadows. So many shadows. I’m consumed by hatred for Ambrosine, and an icy determination to defeat him. I won’t give in—won’t give these men the satisfaction of defeating me. Revenge is sweet.

“Let. Me. In,” Javier snarls.