Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

I feel as though my head is spinning. “Make covenant...the way humans make covenant with realms? Like, pledge our lives to each other?”


“I’ve heard stories,” he says. “Of Troikans and Myriadians who have fallen in love. Through covenant, a bond forms between them, like our bonds to our kings. If we do it, what’s mine becomes yours and what’s yours becomes mine.”

Head spinning faster... “Why do you want to do this? What happened to the others?”

He rolls toward me, facing me at last, but his gaze is hooded. “I want...so many things. I want to touch you, spirit to spirit. I want you to touch me. I want us to be a family. I want peace between us. I want to find a way to save your mother and Sloan together, just like you said.”

My heart kicks into a too-fast rhythm. There are probably a thousand rules against what he’s suggesting, and a thousand punishments. Maybe even banishment. “Will you be able to pass through the Veil of Wings and enter Troika? Will I be able to enter Myriad? The Kennels?” Will I be able to return to Many Ends?

“Some stories say yes, some say no.”

If the answer is no, we could try and die? “Let’s say it works, and we can. Where will we live after we’ve checked off each of our goals? When will we be together? Will we still fight for our realms, knowing we could be hurting each other?”

He heaves a sigh. “I never said I’d worked out all the details, lass. I only know I’m willing to risk everything to be with you.”

I flounder...reel...entertain a million different thoughts...but only one thought matters. What will I risk for him? Everything.

“Would you set a court date?” I ask.

“After we’ve found a way inside Many Ends...yes.”

Spinning faster and faster. “Killian... I...”

“Just think about it. All right?” He sits up and types into his brand. “As for today, dress and return home. Your people are missing you something fierce.”

A pile of folded clothes appears. He offers me a black T-shirt, which I pull over my head, hiding my necklaces, and a pair of leather pants. I shimmy into the too-tight material, sheathe my swords and stand.

Killian joins me, and we face off. He is everything I ever wanted, and I yearn to accept his offer. Can we overcome the obstacles between us?

I’m about to set a course for home when a message from Levi comes in.

I see your Light on the Grid. I’ve hidden Killian’s darkness, and I’ve asked Kayla to beam you to Dior’s new safe house in five...four...three...

“I love you,” I tell Killian, already missing him.

The look he gives me is one of abject starvation. “I love you, too.”

I reach for him—

Whoosh! I travel in a blaze of Light, landing on the porch of a small log cabin hidden in a forest in Montana.

I listen as I scan the surrounding area, searching for anything out of place. The snap of a tree limb. The crunch of fallen leaves being stomped on. A light pitter-patter of footsteps. A shadow. A print. There is nothing.

A Shell awaits me at the front door. I anchor, and my swords bond with the special Whells strapped to my back. Remaining on guard, I step inside.

The furnishings instantly charm me. A floral-print love seat has a colorful quilt draped over the top. The coffee table has legs made from deer horns. A lace doily covers the surface. Antique dolls perch inside a glass case. On the walls hang pictures of Troikan gardens.

Levi is seated at a hand-carved table with Dior and Javier. He motions me over. “Join us.” His voice is tight, tension thick in the air.

“Where’s Clay?” I ask. Injured in the battle?

“He’s fine. I sent him home to rest.”

Finally! A mark for the Going Well column of my life.

I slide into the empty seat next to Levi, peering at the humans across the table, unable to hide my horror. Both Dior and Javier are riddled with Penumbra. A black cloud surrounds them. Her eyes are no longer gold, and his are no longer brown. Instead their irises are black, utterly indistinguishable from their pupils.

Sizzling sounds echo in my head, my Light repulsed by the pair.

An-nn-nd one mark for the Going Poorly column.

At least I have the tools to help them now.

“Dior has consented to being cleansed,” Levi says.

“All right. Yes.” Can I do this? “How would you like me to—”

Bang, bang. The sound comes from the Grid, and I frown.

“You’ll want to answer that,” Levi says.

How does he know—

Bang, bang.

I rub my temples as the image of a beautiful blonde flashes through my mind. I know her. The princess. A long white braid drapes her shoulder, her beautiful features so delicate and pure I almost can’t bear to look at her.

Instinctively I close my eyes to concentrate, and a door opens in the Grid. The princess glides through and smiles at me.

“I’m so pleased to meet you outside a battlefield, Tenley. I’ve been watching your progress on the Grid, and your Light has only grown brighter.”

I bow to her.

“No, no. Rise. Together, we will save Dior. Shall we begin?” She twines our fingers. Her grip is weaker than I would have expected, and cold. So cold.

But a stream of warmth flows through our connection, filling me. Warmth and strength, as solid as gold. But the warmth begins to fade, and a chill wind beats against me. Tremors rock her.

“That’s the way,” Levi says.

My eyelids flutter open, the sight before me startling. I’m leaning across the table, Dior’s hands in mine. I must have reached for her when I reached for the princess. Dior’s mouth is open to release an endless silent scream. Her features are contorted in sheer agony.

My fingers jerk, but Levi moves beside me, and he clasps our hands to ensure we remain linked.

—Give her our Light.—

With my eyes open, the princess has become a whisper in the back of my mind. And yet she issues the command with so much force I instinctively shove a ray of Light from the Grid into my hands. Dior quakes and shakes with more fervor, the darkness thrashing underneath her skin. But the ray hits a wall—and it can’t go up, down or around and returns to me.

Another chill wind beats at me, pricking me with thousands of needle-points. Ice crystallizes in my veins, and my heart slows to a sluggish crawl.

—More.—

Another ray leaves my fingertips. Then another and another. The cold worsens, and a terrible pressure builds inside me. Too much Light for me to contain!

Dior shakes with more vigor, her chair rattling.

Javier grabs hold of her arm in an attempt to pull us apart. His mouth is moving. I know he’s speaking, but I can’t hear him.

“Let Miss Nichols go. Now.” Levi. I hear Levi. I hear the General in his hard tone.

Javier obeys. A miracle.

—More.—

Doors in the Grid are ripped open. Doors to rooms I’ve filled. Light rushes out...only to hit the wall and return to me, just like the others. The pressure continues to build, becoming a searing agony on top of the still-worsening chill.