Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

I need her. I need her now. I need her always!

She was kind to me when others were not. She loved me when others could not. But she is...she’s gone, isn’t she? She’s joined Archer in the Rest, because I failed to stop the war. Because I failed to protect her. Because I failed her—period.

TLs encircle me, shielding me from further attack. I hate that they are endangered. I don’t deserve their help.

“Get her up,” a voice yells from a distance. General Spike, I think.

“You can’t stay down, Ten.” Reed’s voice, closer than the General’s but still far away. “Hurry!”

He’s right. I can’t stay down. I have to do what Meredith came here to help me do. I have to get to Javier. Then I’ll mourn. Then I’ll cry... I’ll cry and never stop.

I’m trembling as I sit up. My shield of TLs has already thinned; only three are still standing...and Reed is the next to fall. I suck in a breath as an ML pins him to the ground, smiles and readies a blade.

No!

With a roar, I swipe up my swords and swing. He blocks, but he isn’t prepared for my second swing. The blade cuts through his shoulder, and he howls. Reed works his legs up and kicks the ML in the chest. He flies backward, and I follow, menace in every step, both of my ankles healed and steady. The moment he hits the ground, I’m there to meet him.

I remove his head without a moment of hesitation.

“Thank you.” Reed and the other two TLs bound off to meet a new group of MLs headed my way.

The trio is quickly trampled, the soldiers surging past them. If I’m going to die, I’m going to take as many MLs as I can with me. Bring it!

Something cold and hard suddenly presses against my back. I stiffen, preparing to turn and strike. I catch the scent of peat smoke and heather and my heart leaps. Killian. Killian is here.

To help...or to hurt?

No time! As another ML closes in from the front, I detect the cock of a gun behind me.

Grinding my teeth, I fake left, swing with my right, spin—block—and swing with my left. Like his comrade, the big brute avoids the first but not the second. The blade slices through his middle. He falls, revealing another ML.

Killian shoots the new one between the eyes.

He keeps shooting. In quick succession, eight Myriadians join the others on the ground.

Killian is helping me, at the same time ensuring there are no witnesses to his deeds.

The earth shakes, the Buckler vanishing. Injured TLs begin to vanish, as well.

Killian leads me into an alley hidden between two towering buildings. TLs are driving MLs farther down the road, away from me.

At the moment, I’m safe. But I’m too keyed up to sheathe my swords.

Killian doesn’t seem to mind their presence. He presses his forehead against mine and whispers, “Remember your trust in me.”

“I remember.” I long to sink into his arms, to cling to him and forget the horrors of the day. Forget the loss I’ve suffered, and the broken heart dying inside my chest.

“Good.” He straightens and glares at me, as inflexible as steel. Fury radiates from him. “Your realm should have known better than to send you. It’s what Myriad wanted. It’s why they had an army watching Javier.”

I blink at him. “I don’t—”

But he’s not done. “If I save ye again, lass, my boss is going to know I’m not working to win ye to the Myriadian cause but simply protecting ye.” His accent thickens with every word. “I’ll be punished in the worst possible way. Do ye ken? Do ye even care? Do ye want me harmed?”

He knows I don’t want him harmed. To suggest otherwise can only be an attempt to manipulate me. But why would he—

Remember your trust in me...

Frowning, I stare up at him. I think I understand. He’s playing his part...which must mean we’re being watched.

“I care about you. I love you,” I tell him, my voice soft. Whoever lurks nearby won’t be able to doubt my claims. The truth saturates my voice. “I love you with every fiber of my being.”

Killian inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring. His hands settle on my waist, his grip strong enough to hold me up if I fall.

“Ten.” My name is a benediction on his lips.

“I don’t want you in danger, Killian. Not now, not ever.” More truth. But I have a part to play, too. One meant to keep this boy out of harm’s way. “Just...don’t help me again, okay?”

He searches my gaze, and whatever he sees seems to undo him. Again he presses his forehead to mine, our exhalations mingling. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

A crack in my chest. “My grandmother,” I croak.

He brushes the tip of his nose against mine. “I’m sorry, lass.”

“Ten!” Victor comes barreling around the corner. He spots Killian and lifts a Stag. He takes aim, demanding, “Where’s Javier? Where did your people move him?”

I sheathe my swords at last and spread my arms, covering as much of Killian as I can. “Don’t shoot,” I command. “Please.” I’m speaking to both of them. I can’t tell Victor what Killian has done, so, I’m sure this comes across as a major betrayal to Troika. Again. But I won’t back down and allow Killian to be hurt.

Victor’s gaze darts between us; he’s clearly unsure about his next move.

“Javier’s gone?” All this pain and death for nothing! “Do you know where he is?” I ask Killian.

“No, but I’ll do what I can to find out.”

Maybe Meredith could use the Eye to search—

No. No, she can’t. My chin trembles.

“What about the person he infected?” I ask.

The space between Killian’s eyes crinkles. “To my knowledge, only Javier and Dior are infected. If you heard otherwise, I’m thinking you heard a lie.”

Something in our favor. There are two infected people rather than three. “Let’s go home, Victor. Please.” I don’t want to leave Killian, I need him, but I have no other choice. I’ll see him again. I have to see him again. I’m breaking down from the inside out, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to put myself back together. But he can. He’s done it before. “We have to go while the Buckler is down. We need to regroup.”

Killian backs away from me. Every cell in my body screams in protest. Chase him! I don’t. The separation allows Victor to approach him unimpeded.

Victor’s finger twitches on the trigger, spurring me into action.

I jerk up my knee, nailing his wrist, using one hand to push his arm to the side and the other to take possession of the weapon. He has no defense against me. He’s a Messenger, not a Laborer, and fighting isn’t his specialty.

“No more killing,” I tell him.

He glares at me. “You want to go home, we’ll go home.” He punches a code into his data pad and takes my hand.

“Ten,” Killian calls.

Too late. I’m caught up in a beam of Light.





MYRIAD



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From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

To: K_F_5/23.53.6