Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(107)

Around us, Troikans are climbing free of the rubble and gathering their wits. We are unnoticed. I tremble as I yank out the arrow. She goes still, and I press my fist into the wound to staunch the flow of Lifeblood, at the same time unleashing a ray of Light.

Her eyes open and widen. I turn to see what she sees. A guy I’ve never met is racing toward us, notching a second arrow in his bow. He has no Light.

The arrow flies. Another guy jumps in front of me, shielding me—he is lit up like a Christmas tree. We weren’t unnoticed, after all. With a grunt, Christmas drops. Just like the General, he seizes, his mouth foaming.

I remove the arrow, feed him a ray of Light and lumber to my feet, determined. No one else is taking a hit meant for me.

As I race forward...faster and faster...another arrow flies my way. Got this. I unsheathe and twirl my swords, the arrow pinging and falling uselessly to the ground.

To my right, another guy races from the shroud of smoke, a spear in hand. He takes aim. His Light is faded—he’s another of Myriad’s spies. I dodge the spear and swing my arms, sparks of pure Light flinging from the ends of my swords, cutting through his chest.

I should feel triumphant. I just feel sad.

The other spy notches an arrow, but I duck, still running. Finally he’s within reach. I slam my swords together, creating a staff—and slam the fiery end into his temple. He stumbles, and I hit him again, disorienting him before swiping his feet out from under him.

As he topples, I yank the staff apart. One of the hilts vibrates, ready, and when he lands, the tip is there to greet him, sliding deep into his chest. He shakes, like the General he nearly killed, before rivers of black swim through his veins, his flesh beginning to harden.

Only when his entire body is stone do I straighten. Again I entertain no triumph. I take no satisfaction in my actions, but I will accept no regret, either. Those who come into my house better mind their manners. These people are my family. I will protect them until my dying breath. If that means peace can never be reached, so be it. Not that I will ever stop trying.

Troikans do not try. They do.

I wipe my bloody mouth with the back of my hand, my gaze landing on Raanan, who snatches up the spy’s weapon.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks me.

The entire realm shudders, the rubble at my feet banging together. A new chorus of screams erupts, a thicker wall of smoke billowing in the distance, rising to cover the sky and darken more of our precious Light.

Horror descends. Myriad wanted me to cleanse Dior and weaken. They wanted me helpless as they attacked my people. One step ahead of me all along.

“Ten! Ten!”

I spin and catch sight of Kayla, who is headed my way, pale hair flying behind her, a multitude of weapons strapped to her small body, metal swords banging against her legs with every step.

She’s alive!

“Levi sent me to gather any Laborers who survived the blast. He’s sending soldiers through the Veil of Wings to clear the armies outside our walls so Light can reach us.” As she speaks, she tosses a weapon at anyone within reach.

I share what little Light I have left, guaranteeing everyone is steady.

“Go. Help the others,” I say. “I’m searching for my brother.”

Raanan pats my shoulder, and a spark of Light ignites between us. Not one created by me. He gasps. Is he... Could he be...?

The group rushes off, led by a fully recovered General Bahari.

“I know where Jeremy is,” Kayla tells me.

Thank the Firstking! I’ll consider Raanan’s status later. “Take me to him.” Maybe I shared too much Light. I’m weak, trembling, swaying on my feet. “Please.”

“Come on.” She heads in the opposite direction. “He’s in the Tower of Might.”

I follow, my relief potent and powerful. The deeper we go, the more shadows that descend over the watery sky, and my brands dull. Vibrations erupt in the back of my mind, telling me something’s wrong.

“Kayla,” I rasp as we approach the Gate.

She enters without pause. I trail behind, intending to grab her and retreat. Jeremy must have been moved, because—

Whack!

A spiked board smacks me in the face, and I careen, nearly losing my grip on my swords. Dizziness and pain are instant and excruciating, Lifeblood washing over my eyes and coating my tongue.

Male laughter rings out. “That never gets old.”

“Stop! Victor,” Kayla cries. “You said she wouldn’t be hurt.”

Victor. Of course. But I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Kayla set me up. That she helped him plan a mass destruction of innocents.

I blink in an effort to clear my vision. “Where’s Jeremy?”

“He’s fine,” she assures me. “I put him in a bunker before...before...”

The first bomb went off, I finish for her. She did. She set me up and helped plan this. Betrayal nearly rips me in two.

Victor drops the board and palms a .44. “Surprise! Your good pal is out of hiding and better than ever.” He waves, his hand almost fully regrown.

The realm shakes with great force, rattling my brain against my skull. Another bomb? I remain on the ground, feeling utterly defeated. First I loved and trusted Sloan, and she killed me. Then I loved and trusted Kayla, and she does this.

“How?” I croak.