Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(45)

“You’re right. And that’s the reason I never said anything until now. But this... I think Killian’s life hinges on his ability to neutralize you.”

“No.” I give a vehement shake of my head. Killian would have told me when he messaged me. “How could anyone in Troika know what a Myriadian has or has not been ordered to do?”

“I’m not sure. I just know I overheard Levi and Meredith talking.”

Shock kicks me back a step. If Levi and Meredith truly believed Killian intends to “neutralize” me, they wouldn’t have used him as an incentive for me to work harder, to learn faster.

Searching... “You must have misunderstood.”

The next time we’re together, we will fight. There’s no way to avoid it. Be ready.

My chest hollows out, but again, I shake my head. He would never hurt me. “I’m going to talk with him.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re in danger, I’m not.” Still searching... Dang it, where is he? “Stay here, and stay safe.”

There! A tall, dark blur through the jellyair. I race off the porch and through the trees, closing in on the shield...almost there.

The ground quakes, as if a giant fist just smacked into the planet. I trip and land on my knees. My gaze lifts to the sky. The dome is gone, and a guard tower hovers above the farmhouse.

Like clouds, towers are mobile, steered wherever the action is.

Along the parapet, TLs and MLs are locked in a fierce battle—for rights to Dior? Fiery swords swing, appearing like bursts of lightning.

Such violence. When will it end? How many lives will be lost today?

Within seconds, the Buckler reappears, the battle nothing but a blob on the horizon.

I stand and kick into motion, finally exiting the dome. Surrounded by trees, I’m sheltered from the battle by a canopy of leaves.

Adrenaline surges as I search nearby thickets. Where is Killian? Was he attacked by patrolling TLs? Hurt? For that matter, where are the TLs? Now in the guard tower?

I spin, calling, “Killian!”

In the distance, leaves rattle. I palm the dagger sheathed in the side of my boot. Branches part...and Killian emerges, the rest of the world forgotten. His dark hair is messy, his shirt and battle leathers ripped in several places. He holds a sword in a tight grip.

There’s a rope tied around his waist, the end stretched behind him like a tail. Whatever he’s dragging is hidden behind the line of trees.

Our gazes meet, and we both go still. His savage intensity threatens to unravel my calm. His blue-gold eyes sing to me...always they sing, and the anguished melody haunts me.

“Ten.” The huskiness of his Irish lilt turns my name into a thousand other words. The one I cling to—Love.

I can’t catch my breath, and I’m not sure I want to. Every inhalation marks the passage of time. A second closer to our parting. I want to stay here forever.

“Killian.” His name is a soft invocation. He’s here, and he’s in front of me. A literal dream come true. I wish I could scent his peat smoke and heather, my two favorite scents in the world.

I wish I could touch him.

I remember the bone-deep cold a single graze of skin-to-skin contact causes, but I can’t bring myself to care. I know the agony of being without him, and I would endure anything to hold him in my arms again.

I sheathe my dagger and step forward.

“What are you doing? Arm up not down.” Expression hardening, he lifts his chin, squares his shoulders and straightens his spine. He angles the sword, pointing the tip in my direction. “I told you what would happen the next time we were together.”

I’ve seen him do this with others, and I know he’s preparing himself for battle. For the horrors to come.

Unease pricks the back of my neck. Elizabeth’s warning... Clay’s warning... Am I a fool to ignore them?

Stop! Why am I entertaining doubt? When it came time to pick a realm, doubt kept me imprisoned with indecision. I have to trust my instincts.

Right now my instincts are screaming: remember the dream. The birds attacked me only when my attention veered away from Killian.

What if the birds represent misgivings and other people’s expectations?

“I’m not going to fight you,” I tell him.

“Your new family hasn’t convinced you to hate me, then?” His voice is devoid of emotion. “They must not have shared the worst of my sins with you.”

Does he fear my disdain? “You’re a horrible person, blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all. Can we move on to the happy to see you portion of our reunion?”

A flash of hope—of Light?—before he scowls. “Still your stubborn self, I see. Your instructors must mourn the day they met you.”

Does he? “You can’t stay here. TLs are stationed around the perimeter, commanded to kill Myriadians on sight.”

Now there’s a flash of surprise. “I’ve done a sweep. We’re clear—for now.” His gaze roves over me...and heats. “How are you, lass?”

I shiver and lick my lips. “I’m curious. What does 143 mean?”

A smile flashes, gone within a single heartbeat. “What do you think it means?”

“I...love you,” I say and shift from one foot to the other.

“Do you, then?” He sheathes his sword at last, a gleam of wickedness in his siren-song eyes. “I had no idea. Thank you.”