Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

Killian gives him more, punch, punch, punching—every strike focused and contained, delivered for maximum impact—until the human is sprawled across the mat, unable to stand but still smiling.

“Now it’s break time,” Javier says between panting breaths, crimson smeared over his teeth.

I grimace. Penumbra hasn’t had such a sinister effect on Dior and I wonder if personality dictates severity.

The building shakes, and I stiffen. Either a battle has kicked off outside, or someone just erected a Buckler.

A second later, four MLs rush into the room—two in Shells, two in spirit—each holding a weapon. Got my answer. A Buckler was erected, and it’s Troikan. I feel a sweet pulse of Light.

Deacon sprints from the shadows and rams into the Shells. The trio slams to the floor, the MLs absorbing the brunt of impact.

My blonde squeals and dives through the ropes to join the boys, abandoning me. Killian spots me, his narrowed gaze drilling holes in me.

“Go to the locker room,” he commands Javier. “Do not talk to anyone but me. Do not leave with anyone but me.”

The younger male clearly isn’t used to taking orders and remains prone; he’s panting but smiling again.

Gaze never leaving me, Killian throws a hard punch. Javier’s entire body jolts as he’s rendered unconscious.

The blonde alternates between patting his face and peering up at Killian with a combination of awe and fear.

I race toward the MLs who are in spirit form and lift my arm, aiming Meredith’s ring.

Boom, boom!

The bigger male falls. Without missing a beat, the other guy tosses a dagger at me. I dodge, wishing I had time to aim—too late, we collide, hurtling halfway across the room. I use his neck as an anchor and swing myself around him.

Upon impact, he’s dazed. Easy to pin. With my knees in his shoulders, I jab the ring into his throat and fire.

Guilt. Sorrow. I experience both as Lifeblood pours from his motionless body.

I know he’s past the point of hearing me, but I say, “It didn’t have to be this way.”

He’s dead and gone, and he won’t Fuse with a newborn human; he won’t enter into the Rest, which is open only to Troikans. That leaves...

Many Ends?

Surely I haven’t sent this man...and all the others I’ve killed in battle...to Many Ends. Surely Killian won’t one day find himself in the nightmarish realm.

I suck air between my clenched teeth, struggling to maintain my composure. Killian...trapped in Many Ends...

My blood curdles.

From the corner of my eye, I notice a Myriadian exiting his Shell as he approaches me.

Dang it! I’ve got to keep my head in the game!

As I jump up, he swings a Glacier. I bow back, narrowly avoiding injury, and reach for my swords. Straightening, I extend my arms, my body forming a T. He punches me in the stomach, as I expected, and I hunch over, wheezing for breath, at the same time drawing my wrists together to create a pair of makeshift scissors.

Off with his head.

My signature move is swift, painless and permanent.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone else, but I will if I must.” I spin as I speak, addressing the entire room.

I’m ignored. Six other MLs are here, and one of them is Sloan, the traitor; they’re working together to take out Deacon. He’s doing his best to neutralize the eager beavers without hurting Sloan, a girl he once crushed on.

Humans scurry for cover, chaos quickly reigning. Killian remains in front of Javier, acting as his guard.

“Look out,” Killian shouts at me.

I pivot as two Shell-less MLs race toward me. I’m ready, but Deacon sheds his Shell and blazes over, knocking the two to the ground. His previous opponents charge his now defenseless Shell, not yet realizing he’s left it—except for Sloan. She whips out two .44s, one for each hand, and nails her own teammates in the back of the head.

Deacon and I jolt with shock.

“You got this?” I ask Deacon.

“Without a doubt.”

I rush to my Shell, sheathe the Blessing and Cursing—I won’t risk cursing Killian—and slip inside the casing. After swiping up two new swords, I climb into the ring. Time is running out.

Killian looks me over and arches a dark brow. “You planning on stabbing me, lass?”

“With Cupid’s arrow maybe, but nothing else.”

His features soften. As he circles me, his gaze lingers on my cleavage. His hands curl into fists—to stop himself from reaching out to touch me? His pupils dilate. “Did you come here to seduce me, then?”

Does he realize he’s rubbing his 143,10 tattoo?

Beyond the ring, grunts and groans sound as Deacon and Sloan take out the remaining MLs.

“Why are you doing this?” the TL says between ragged breaths.

“Just shut up and kill the witnesses,” she snaps.

I move with Killian, wishing he would close the distance and yank me into his arms. “When I decide to seduce you, Killian Flynn, you won’t have to ask. Actually, you won’t even have enough breath to ask.”

“Well, then.” His eyes glitter with wicked intent. “I look forward to your attempt.”

“You mean my success.”

“Finished,” Sloan calls. She yanks a sword out of the last ML standing...well, falling, and stalks to a desk in back. She checks the security system. “The humans made it outside to safety.”

Humans can pass through Bucklers, no problem.

And sure enough, the rest of the MLs have been finished off. Sixteen in total. I expected more.

In a blink, Killian’s entire countenance darkens. He goes from pleasure to business, every mask gone. No longer a charmer, he’s a boy who’s devastated beyond repair.

“Let’s talk frankly, Ten. With your Buckler over the gym, my comm is disabled, and my boss can’t listen in.”

“What about Sloan? She—”

“Is on our side.”

I shake my head in an effort to dismiss my confusion. “Please don’t tell me you trust my murderer.” I know she aided me today. I know I let her live during our previous battle. But we’re discussing matters of the heart right now.

“Why not? She’s there for me when you aren’t,” he snarls.

Every ounce of heat drains from me, leaving me rigid with cold. “Are you...are you two...”

“And now you insult me!” He spits the words at me. “I would never betray you. And she won’t, either. She could have turned on me a thousand times, but she’s helped me in order to help you. Lets our boss believe we’re screwing so we can disable our comms and sneak around the realm, counteracting every plan Myriad has for you.”

Too much. Too much information to process while I combat far too many conflicting emotions. Betrayed but beloved. In peril but protected. Out of control but steady.

“You’re here for Javier,” he adds, “but I’m not going to let you have him. He’s too dangerous to you.”

No way I’ll let him play that particular card. “While you’re sneaking around, actively putting your life in danger, I’m supposed to ignore my job to avoid danger? Do you have any idea how devastated I’d be if something were to happen to you?”