Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

We never expect to reach the end, do we?

Questions bombard me. Is he leaving a family behind? Will children be without their father? Brothers and sisters without their best friend? A mother without her son?

Stop! Move on. Reach Javier.

I yank, but one of my blades remains trapped in his bone; the handle begins to vibrate. Or he is vibrating? The color drains from his skin, leaving him chalk white...no, no, his skin is darkening. He’s now gray. Stone gray...stone that cracks, crumbles, and explodes. Ash rains.

I gape, confused and revolted.

To the left, a blaze of Light appears, nearly blinding me. In the center, Meredith appears, a Pyre in hand.

She slays the Myriadian in front of her—the one who’d been sneaking up on me. “The human is this way.” Her gaze slides past my shoulder and widens. “Look out!”

I dive. Too late. From behind, a Glacier nicks my thigh. My skin splits and Lifeblood hemorrhages. Instant pain and weakness. Bile rises up, but I swallow it back.

Meredith closes in. My attacker has two metal swords; he uses one to take another stab at me and the other to slash at my grandmother. No! Not her! We both manage to block.

She kicks and nails him between the legs. In this, spirits react as humans. He howls as he hunches over.

With a single swing, she removes his head. It’s a bloody, violent death, but I have no more regret to give. I want my grandmother safe.

When Meredith releases the Pyre, it vanishes. She helps me to wobbly legs, then palms two axes. Together, we surge onward. She hacks at three...four...six MLs who make a play for me, effectively dividing their attention.

This woman...she is a true warrior. A magnificent sight to behold. Every spin, slash and kick is almost too swift to track.

“Be ready,” she shouts over the craze. Then she pushes an ML at me.

Knowing what she wants, I mimic her earlier move and ram my knee into the guy’s midsection; as he hunches over desperate for breath, I swing one of my swords. His head detaches, and his body crumbles, Lifeblood glittering, spurting and pooling.

Meredith shoves someone else my way, but familiar blond hair and blue eyes bring me to a halt.

Sloan?

She’s sallow and trembling, unprepared for the horrors of war.

Is anyone ever prepared?

Lifeblood streaks her face and chest and soaks her hands. Her mouth is hanging open at an odd angle, her jaw broken. Mewling sounds escape her.

Strike! What if she turns around and kills other Troikans?

Still I hesitate. There’s good in her. I know it. I can’t punish her for it.

“I’m sorry,” she slurs and backs away from me. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I plant my feet, refusing to give chase.

Meredith shoves another ML in my direction. He bows his back to avoid my kick, and my leg flies through the air. My momentum spins me. Laughing, he lifts a sword. His mistake. Instead of attempting to slow my momentum, I go with it, continuing to whirl. My swords slice through his middle, one after the other before he can deliver a single strike.

Entrails spill onto the ground. I gag, not because the sight disgusts me. It doesn’t. His organs are hauntingly beautiful, glittering like jewels. The fact that I like the look of them—that is the problem.

A whoosh of wind, then a loud boom! The ground shakes, a Buckler engaged.

I trip over my victim, and I’m too weak to catch myself. Zero! I’m still hemorrhaging. At this rate, I’ll soon experience a total collapse.

Determination took me further than skill, but I’ve reached my limit. I don’t have the strength to stand.

“They’re closing in on us!” Meredith shouts.

Her warning comes too late. We’re already enclosed. MLs form a wide circle around us, caging us in. Behind them, TLs struggle to reach us.

A shot rings out—

“Nooo!” Meredith jumps in front of me, meaning to block the bullet with the swing of her sword, but in her panic her aim is off and the bullet cuts through her chest. She cries out, her body jerking as it falls.

The moment she hits, three daggers sink into her stomach.

No. No! I scream with an agony of the heart rather than the body. Leave her alone! Please!

Rage driving me, I swing my swords at the offenders. While the tips miss the MLs by a hairsbreadth, it doesn’t matter. A shower of Light—flaming metal shards?—flies from the ends of my weapons and slashes every offender across the throat.

As they gasp for breath they can’t catch, I position myself over Meredith’s body to act as her shield. I will protect my grandmother with my life.

An arrow flies at me, and I stop it with my swords. Another arrow follows, then another. Too many, too fast. A sharp pain suddenly explodes between my shoulder blades, and I cry out. I’ve been hit!

Agony swims in my veins, and black dots wink through my eyes.

I ignore the terrible sensations and keep swinging my weapons. Once again, blazing shards fly from the tips. The surrounding MLs expect the deluge this time and duck. Zero!

A dagger is hurled at me. Despite my pain, I manage to block, and the blade pings to my feet. From the corner of my eye, I detect a blur of red. I pivot, but I’m not swift enough—an arrow lodges in my shoulder.

The new flood of pain is quickly overshadowed by a surge of acid. Poison? I hiss as spiderwebs of black weave through my mind.

The world shakes, and I sway. My ankles buckle, the tendons suddenly detaching, and I scream as I fall. I can’t breathe. Can’t see. The pain...it’s too great, and it’s only getting worse. The swords tumble from my grip.

I try to yank out the arrows, but I don’t have the strength. Lifeblood gushes from me. Frigid cold envelops me.

With a whimper, my grandmother turns her head. Judging by the pinch of her lips, the action is torture. Our gazes meet, my mismatched eyes suddenly linked to the beautiful amber windows to her soul, a soul now filled with regret and sorrow. White-hot tears catch on my lashes, and her image blurs.

This can’t be the end of her—of us. Someone will swoop in. Someone will come to our rescue. Or we’ll be beamed back to Troika, out of danger before a deathblow can be delivered.

Yes. —Beam us up!—I scream at anyone who might be able to hear me. —Please!—

Meredith mouths a single word. Live. Then she closes her eyes. Muted Light begins to glow from her ears...nose...mouth...the tips of her fingers...her pores...so much Light, only growing brighter and brighter. Confusion grips me. What’s happening? What’s she doing?

MLs scramble backward. Then...

Her body—utterly—explodes.

MLs wail and topple as Light and Lifeblood splash over them. Light and Lifeblood rain over me, too, but they are warm and welcoming.

I have the strength to remove the arrows and dagger. My wounds begin to cauterize, and the cold leaves me.

She did this...she did this to heal me...she did this to save me.

She died.

No, no, no. She isn’t gone. She isn’t entering into the Rest. Not Meredith. My wonderful, amazing Meredith.