Everlife (Everlife #3)

Victor sets my cage in the center of the room, a loud clang assaulting my overly sensitive ears. I’m not yet healed from all those volts of electricity.

I search my surroundings and find one of my Shells stands next to the display case. On the coffee table rests a remote and a large metal tong—no question, it’s for my neck. Like the cage, the tong is made for both spirit and Shell.

He prepared for this, I realize. He planned to take over my “care” all along.

With a smile, he lifts the remote and flips a switch. Suddenly the cage is electrified, one volt after another spearing me in place. Even when the volts die down, I’m unable to move. Tremors continue to rack me, and I know Ten is enduring the same.

Payback will hurt—him.

His smile grows ever wider as he opens the cage and uses the tong to drag me out. He forces my spirit to slip inside the Shell and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Some force greater than myself acts as a magnet, holding me inside.

When he releases the tong, a metal collar remains around my neck, and the magnetic charge intensifies, ensuring I’m stuck inside my new prison—a prison bound to the wall with the same kind of shadows Javier used on Ten. The dark bands wrap around the wrists and ankles.

“I’m having fun already.” He unsheathes a knife—and stabs me in the stomach. “Are you?”

My lips part on a grunt of pain. While a Shell usually mutes the sensations a spirit feels, negative or positive, I’m overly sensitized. I. Feel. Everything. Which means Ten feels everything, my poor, sweet lass.

Revenge…

“I will make yer brain leak through yer eyes until you cry your thoughts,” I tell him calmly.

As Lifeblood pours from my wound, weakening me further, he steps back to survey his handiwork. “You look good with extra holes. Let’s add a few more, shall we?”

“Go ahead. Do it. Just know I’ll repay you a hundredfold for every slice.”

“Brave talk for a prisoner.” He sinks the blade into my other side, and as I hiss, Victor wipes my Lifeblood on his leather pants. “You should lighten up. This isn’t personal. I have a lot of anger issues with your girl, and not a lot of time to exorcise them.”

“Poor baby. Are you angry because she kicked your ass? Twice?”

Rage flares in his eyes—a reflection of my own? He punches me in the chest, right over my heart, warping the next beat. Then, deceptively calm, he asks, “What do you see in her? You can find a pretty girl anywhere, any time, and really, they all look the same in the dark. So what turns you and Archer into fools whenever this one steps into a room?”

Easy. “She has proven loyal, selfless and kind.” Three things I never knew I admired, until now. “Things you’ll never be.”

He laughs a little. “You make her sound like a dog.”

“Which is why dogs are often better than people.”

Another flare of rage. Another punch in the chest.

Forgive. Win with Light.

Again the other side of me speaks up. This time, as I fight for breath, I actually listen. I want to win. Obviously, fighting fire with fire doesn’t work. You must fight fire with water. Only Light can chase away darkness.

Right now, there’s only one person who might share her Light with me.

Hating myself, I push my voice along the bridge that’s connecting me to Ten. —I need your Light, lass. Archer’s, too. Actually, any Light anyone in Troika can spare. Please. I doona deserve it. I know this. But I’m askin’ anyway. It’s the only way I know tae save you.—

Seconds tick by without a response, and I fear she’s given up on me.

One more chance. I need one more chance. I won’t mess up, not again. I’ll pour everything I’ve got, everything I am, into this.

Finally her soft voice whispers over the Grid. —Or you hope to weaken me further, and do what Javier failed to do: destroy Troika through me.—

The accusation cuts deeper than Victor’s blows. But just like Victor’s blows, it is deserved. —Please, lass. I know I’ve done you wrong, but I need the chance tae do you right. This is the only way.—

—Only Killian Flynn can be pervy and apologetic at the same time.—

—It’s a gift.— She’s going to trust me? At least in this? I wait, hopeful, ready to be flooded with Light, but one minute ticks into another and the darkness remains as thick as ever.

Too weak?

Decided not to trust me, after all?

—I’m not currently connected to Archer. I got my Light from—never mind. Ready?— A moment passes in silence. —Argh! This must be how Archer felt when he tried to send me Light. You’re shielded. Drop the shield, Killian.—

Shielded?

A fist slams into my jaw, my head whipping to the side. “Are you paying attention?” Victor demands. “Or are you going to tell me I’m hitting like a girl?”

“I would never lie so outrageously. I mean, you’ll need to hit a lot harder if you want to be compared to a girl.”

My words prick his pride, and once again rage explodes inside his eyes. Shouting obscenities, spittle spraying from the corners of his mouth, he whales on me, slamming his fist into my face again and again. With every new blow, my pain magnifies, more Lifeblood leaking from me, my skin shredding inside and out.

What’s worse, I can feel Ten’s pain. Almost my undoing.

“You want this to stop?” Victor runs his tongue over his teeth. “Beg me, then. Beg me, and I’ll stop.”

I…can’t. He’s read my file; I know he has. Even the parts Archer deleted. There’s always a backup. Victor knows the General made me beg, then never followed through. He won’t follow through, either.

Would Ten beg for my life, just for the chance to save me pain?

“You picked the wrong team, Killian. In Myriad, you could have become someone of means, who makes a difference. In Troika, you will never be accepted. You’ll always be the Butcher.”

Maybe, but maybe not. How will I know unless I give everyone a chance?

How will I know if I don’t fight for better?

The truth is, people who are hurt oftentimes choose to hurt others, whether wittingly or unwittingly. Either way, it’s a vicious cycle. By maiming and killing him, I will perpetuate the problem.

Perhaps Ten did manage to share her Light with me. Perhaps I possess a reservoir of Light and just didn’t realize it. Miracle of miracles, my desire for vengeance has begun to fade. But then, darkness is never a match for Light. The two do not tangle up. As soon as Light comes, darkness cannot remain the sole focus.

My shields drop. Suddenly a beam of Light zooms across the Grid, followed by another and another.

Ten’s voice fills my head. —Thank the Firstking! I’ve opened the link with Archer. We’re giving you all we’ve got.—

Victor lands his next blow—and bellows with pain. He stumbles away from me. At the same time, the shadows in my head scramble, desperate to hide. The shadows around my wrists and ankles loosen, fall away. The collar around my neck clinks open and thuds on the floor.

For a moment, only a moment, I’m bathed in pure Light. Not just Light, but a rainbow of Light. More real than the Shell I’m housed in or the air I’m breathing. It is brilliant. Luminous. Glorious. Hope and beauty in vibrant Technicolor. Everything my life has been missing. Everything I never knew I needed.

The Light heals my wounds, strengthens my body and fades. Like one of my memories, it vanishes, all used up. I mourn the loss. Light is like food, I realize. One meal will never be enough to truly live.

My eyes narrow as I focus on Victor. Another gift of the Light—the magnetic charge is gone. I can move in and out of the Shell at will. I can move, period.

Before he can puzzle through what’s happened, I yank the blade from his grip.

The old me would have smiled at him, the same cold smile he’s leveled on me so many times. I would have stabbed him, gifting him with wounds similar to my own. But I’m not the old me. Because of Ten, I’ve been made new.

1 + 10 = 11

1 + 1 = 2