Everlife (Everlife #3)

2 is better than 1. We are better together.

In a single, fluid movement, I pick up the metal collar and dive for Victor. As our Shells crash together, he’s ready for me and throws a punch. A split second after I block, we land. He takes the brunt of impact, his skull knocking into the marble tiles, disorienting him.

Wasting no time, I throw a punch. Or four. My rings rip through his skin, Lifeblood seeping from him. I have forgiven him, yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to let him go free. He must be stopped.

When he is sufficiently disoriented, I scramble up, my knees pinning his shoulders. Once again I hammer my fist into his face. With my actions, my rage attempts to resurface and overtake me, but I fight it off with the same fierceness I fight Victor, maintaining a clear head. Ten was right. Emotion clouds judgment. Alive, Victor can be used…

Now I grin, a plan beginning to form.

The change in my expression frightens him. Good. “Please,” he croaks.

Well, well. Look at him beg.

“You mean I should show you mercy when you showed none to me?” Teeth bite into my skin, cutting into my knuckles, but I never pause. He bats at my arms—at first. “Apparently you have no’ heard of sowin’ and reapin’.”

And what are you sowing right now?

You chose to forgive him. Now act like it.

A curse spills from my lips, but I raise my arms in the air, ending the assault.

His body goes lax as his head lolls to the side.

Taking no chances, I hurriedly step out of my Shell, pull his spirit out of his, and switch places with him. That done, I snap the collar around his neck.

It’s odd, enslaving a Shell with my face.

Next I wrap a cloth around his eyes to hide the color of his irises, hook a muzzle over his mouth to keep him quiet, and anchor his hands behind his back.

“Doona think tae blame me for this,” I tell his unconscious form, no longer fighting my accent. Had he let me go with Ten, this would never have happened. “Yer need for vengeance drove you straight tae yer doom.”

A sense of urgency propels me from my new Shell. I strip, thankful there are mirrors everywhere. I study my tattoos. Line…line…line. Image. A woman’s face, gentle, serene, even as tears of blood drip down her cheeks. One of those tears splashes onto one of the lines…

A memory clicks into place. The location of a stash of Troikan-made weapons. Things capable of hurting fellow Myriadians. Forbidden items. The penalty for having one, much less an arsenal, is death.

I look over the rest of my body. Click, click. Click. All excellent items. Myriadian weapons. Extra ambrosia. Shells. But none will help me now. Then I turn, look over my shoulder and scan my back. Again, I discard one buried treasure after another—

Click. A universal key. Yes. That! I can use it to free Ten from the town square.

Firstking save the realm then. I won’t stop until every inch of Myriad is laid to waste.

Forgive. Save.

A demand from the other side of me. The Light side. I forgave Victor, because I sympathize with his past. I know the pain hiding in his heart. Been there, done that. But I don’t think I can forgive Ambrosine. Too much betrayal, on too wide a scale.

You must. Break the cycle of betrayal.

Can I? I’m a new man, but old habits die hard.

Jaw locked, I dress, return to Victor’s Shell, and head off.

I have to choose, and I choose Ten. Though I’ve broken the fragile threads of her trust, I will make amends. I will be better. She is my family now, and I’ll prove it.





TROIKA



From: A_P_5/23.43.2

To: T_L_2/23.43.2, R_A_5/40.5.16

Subject: We’ve got problems

First, I’m using a stronger wattage, so hopefully this will reach you. Second, try not to crap yourself. I’ll do the same.

Remember how I told you that two Generals joined Raanan, Deacon and Clementine at one of the warehouses? And do you also remember how you told me that Myriad was sending people to kill the Abrogates? Well, Myriad sent more than a few people. They sent an army. A battle broke out at all eighteen warehouses.

We were winning…until Myriad decided to bomb the warehouses, killing their own people. Many of the Abrogates are dead, their spirits now in Myriad.

General Ying Wo is dead, as well. General Alejandro is missing.

Also—yep, there’s more—Sloan was killed. I’m so sorry. I know you loved her. Perhaps this will lessen the blow: She fought like a true warrior. The humans we managed to save, we saved because of her.

Or perhaps that doesn’t lesson the blow. Death is death. Deacon is inconsolable.

What’s worse—yep, there’s still worse—Penumbra has already begun to spread among humans…and spirits.

I’m sorry, but I won’t be sending you any more Light, just in case I’m tainted. You’ve got your own darkness to handle. And I don’t want to risk contacting you Grid to Grid, either.

We’re in crisis, Ten, trying to cleanse our infected. We’re new Conduits, and we’re struggling, even with the princess’s help. We need you. Please, come home. In Myriad, you are nothing but a target.

Light Brings Sight!

Archer Prince, Conduit of Conduits ←Yeah, I said it, and I stand by it PS: Biscuit says “Hi hello how are you I miss you like crazy where are you I want to be with you please come home soon or I’m going to start peeing on your friends.”





chapter eighteen



“Be true to your desires—be true to yourself.”

—Myriad

Ten

As Javier carts me through the town square, he calls, “Meet Tenley Lockwood, a Troikan Conduit. She’s considered their best soldier. The one they believe will win the war— for them.”

Snickers ring out first, followed by boos, hisses and curses.

“Troikan trash!” Rotted ambrosia pelts me.

I’m too horrified by Archer’s message to lament my treatment. No one bothered to disable my comm after his beam of Light healed me; either they didn’t notice or they don’t care, because no Troikans are able to enter Myriad to help me.

I need to send a reply, and I will, as soon as I’m alone.

Javier reaches through the bars of my cage to rip away my clothing, leaving me in my undergarments. Cool air slaps my skin, but my mind remains unresponsive to my current circumstances. Penumbra is spreading. Sloan is dead, her spirit most likely in Many Ends. One Troikan General is dead, too. Another is missing.

Perhaps Alejandro has been imprisoned in the Land of the Harvest. Perhaps he’s being tortured for information that can be used against his realm.

Maybe I should have followed Alejandro’s orders before this started. Maybe I should have gone to the warehouse and done everything in my power to save Sloan and cleanse the infected humans. Would Ying Wo Ling still live? Would Alejandro be with his people?

Would I be dead?

Instead, I insisted on accompanying Killian to Myriad, buoyed by thoughts of peace and the belief that we would rescue every spirit trapped in Many Ends.

Killian warned me not to trust him, but once again, I insisted on doing things my way.

I’m Ten Lockwood, after all. I know everything.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.

Where is Killian now? What’s being done to him?

I know he was stabbed twice, because sharp pains cut through my sides, Lifeblood pouring from me. He wanted my Light, and at the first opportunity, I shucked my distrust, desperate to help him.

Clearly I haven’t learned my lesson, because I kept no Light for myself. It’s better to give than receive, right?

But soon after the transfer, we both healed, and no new injuries have appeared on my body. So…he must have escaped Victor. Yes?

Will he come for me? Better question: Do I want him to come for him? I still don’t trust him, and I cannot wait for him. I need to escape now. My friends are in danger—because of me. Though I wanted peace between the realms, I might have ushered in Troika’s defeat and Myriad’s victory. It’s time for damage control.

I might be defeated now, but this isn’t over. While there’s breath, there’s time.

—Love my Ten. Need more Light?—