Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

“Why—” I spot the Secondking to the right of the doors, speaking with a man and woman.

His violet robe is the most ornate I’ve ever seen, the seams bound together with gold thread, the hem glittering as if soaked in Lifeblood. He’s tall, his face plain, but his eyes...they are bluer than a morning sky, brighter than a sapphire and lovelier than a blue jay.

The man and woman notice our approach and take a step back, clearing our path. My mouth dries, and my insides perform a series of flip-flops. I’m about to meet Troika’s king. In person.

Don’t trip. Don’t spit when you speak. Oh, zero, how’s my breath?

Meredith bows, and I clumsily do the same.

He smiles at us, and I would swear the sun just rose over the entire realm. Plain? No, this man is the definition of beautiful. “I’m pleased you chose Troika, Tenley.”

He knows my name! And though he spoke only six words, I jolt as if I just consumed an entire smorgasbord of manna. I’m electrified from the inside out. “Thank you...” Eron? Too casual. Great King? Perhaps too formal, considering our surroundings. Dang it, what’s the proper way to address him? “Majesty.”

He inclines his head. One point for Ten. I nailed it.

So...is now a good time to mention my thoughts on the war?

As if reading my mind, Meredith urges me away. As I huff and puff with irritation, she says, “A party is not the time for politics.” She stops in front of the pair who spoke to the Secondking before us.

“This,” Meredith says, “is my mother. Your great-grandmother Hazel. She’s a Laborer.”

My eyes widen with surprise and pleasure. I should have guessed. Hazel is petite and blonde, just like Meredith, with a similar regal bearing. But...how is my dark-haired mother part of their familial line?

Hazel tsks at her daughter. “What have I told you about playing Barbie with the new recruits?” Her voice reminds me of a lullaby: soft, sweet and calming.

Meredith snorts. “You said to wait for you so you could play, too.”

Hazel nods and looks me over, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “I hope you don’t expect me to call you Ten. I refuse to refer to my great-granddaughter as a number. I’ll call you Blue.”

She refuses to call me a number, even though it’s my name, but she’s fine with a color? I take a page from Clay’s book and pat the top of her head. Only family can get away with such illogical logic.

“I’m good with Blue. How about I call you Meemaw?”

“Yes!” She fist-pumps the sky. “Meemaw it is.”

“And this,” Meredith says with a laugh, “is Steven, your grandfather. He’s a Laborer, though a different subset. He harvests manna.”

Steven smiles and shakes my hand. He’s on the tall side with clear Native American roots. “So wonderful to meet you, Tenley.”

“Call me Ten. Or Blue,” I add with a wink. I wonder if he and my grandmother are still married.

What the heck. I go ahead and ask.

“During a human marriage, two bodies are bound together, not two spirits.” She pats Steven on the shoulder. “Upon Firstdeath, the bond is voided. But no worries. We’re best friends now.”

With her gaze on something—or someone—behind us, Hazel frowns. “What is she doing here?” Annoyance drips from her tone. “Only friends and family of the newbies received invitations.”

Foreboding rushes through me, a river without a dam. I turn...and spot Elizabeth. Great!

She whispers something to the freckled redhead at her side, and the two glare at me before making their way to Nico, Raanan and Sawyer, who have congregated in a corner.

“She’s distantly related to Raanan.” Meredith wags a finger in her mother’s face, and I begin to understand why she’s a Leader. “And we’re happy she’s here, aren’t we? We hope she has fun. Right? Right! Because we love our fellow Troikans, no matter what.”

Well. Raanan’s silent treatment now makes sense.

“Right,” Hazel grumbles. “Happy. Fun. Love.”

I catch sight of Clay, Reed and Kayla as they enter the courtyard, and a spark of happiness ignites. “Over here!”

They spot me and rush over. Before I dole out hugs, they notice Meredith and bow their heads in greeting. Hazel and Steven receive handshakes.

Clay wiggles his brows at me. “Hey, baby. You must be the square root of negative one, because you can’t possibly be real.”

I bark out a laugh.

Meredith rolls her eyes. “Your pickup lines need serious work, Clayton.”

“So you keep telling me.” His smiles widens as he focuses on her. “But that wasn’t a pickup line. This is. On a scale of one to ten, you’re a nine...and I’m the one you need.”

She throws back her head and laughs with delight.

Whoa. Full stop. Did eighteen-year-old Clay just try to pick up my grandmother? Gross! Killian, at least, is nineteen and only a year and a half older than me.

Killian...

Forget contacting him. I want to see him, breathe him in. I want to touch, hug and kiss him. I want his skin pressed against mine, without a flicker of pain. And the desires do not spring from my crush on him. Not entirely. I think... I think the Grid is trying to tell me I’m not supposed to be here without him.

Impossible. Right? The Troikan Grid would never welcome a Myriadian.

Still my heart cries, Killian.

There are seven letters in his name. The numerical equivalent is 11 + 9 + 12 + 12 +9 + 1 + 14 = 68

68 is a code meaning “put it back,” while 86 is a code meaning “remove it.”

Kayla waves a hand in front of my face and says, “If your plan is to discourage Elizabeth from seeking revenge by making yourself look miserable, mission accomplished.”

“I miss Killian,” I confess softly. She’s never met him, and I’m glad. Before me, he slept with his assignments. His method of choice. The quickest and easiest way to convince a girl to make covenant with Myriad, desperate to stay with him.

What can I say? The boy gives good romance.

At first, I feared I was just another number to him (har har). Just another conquest to be won. But he willingly entered the Kennels for me in order to buy me more time, so I could make a decision about my future in peace. He disobeyed his Leader’s orders to hurt me, protecting me instead. Finally, he urged me to make covenant with Troika, despite the war.

How can I ever doubt his affections for me?

“You won’t be allowed to leave the realm for a year,” Kayla tells me. “You have to complete your training first.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the girl who arrived with Elizabeth approaches our circle—sans Elizabeth—and zeros in on Clay.

If she thinks to strike at me by hurting my friend...

He’s a good guy with a good heart, and I will play Ten Ways To Die if her intentions are anything but honorable.

After a few minutes of back and forth teasing, the two wander off. I’m tempted to follow, but Clay looks so happy. I let him go without comment, and the conversation behind me snags my attention.