Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(46)
“Killian.” I anchor my fists on my hips. “Do you love me or not?”
He extends his arm and holds his wrist under a ray of golden sunlight. I notice his slight tremor and melt. I—His Shell has been tattooed. The numbers 143,10 stare at me, and I gasp.
I love you, Ten.
My hand flutters to my heart.
Killian closes the distance and frames my face with his big hands. I expect pain, but there’s none. I expect a chill, but the temperature of my Shell never changes.
A Troikan and Myriadian Shell can touch without complications?
He presses his forehead to mine and breathes me in. “I love you so much I hurt.”
My pulse points hammer. Suspecting his feelings isn’t the same as knowing his feelings, and I... I’m... I throw my arms around him, embracing him the way I’ve longed to do since we parted. I hold him tight, so tight I would bruise him without the insulation of the Shell.
He runs his fingers through my hair. “I’ve missed you. I’ve thought about you every day, dreamed about you every night. I’ve had to play my bosses to keep myself out of trouble and assigned to your case.”
“I’m still a case?”
“You’re a Conduit, lass. You’ll always be a case.” He rubs his cheek against mine. “I’m supposed to romance you and convince you to betray your realm.”
Elizabeth would insist he’s playing me now, only telling me what I want to hear while explaining any actions he takes against me. Clay would insist he hadn’t misunderstood Levi and Meredith.
My trust never wavers. “How can I help you stay out of trouble with your bosses without harming Troika or a human?”
He straightens, as if he’s been jerked by an invisible chain. His beautiful eyes fill with amazement as they search my face. “Convince your Generals to deny Dior’s request for a day in court.”
Wait, wait, wait. “How will that keep you safe? How doesn’t that harm Troika? Or Dior! If she’s with you through duress, she’s not really with you.”
“Forget trying to keep me safe. Myriad is using Dior against you.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
You’re about to learn the harsh reality of the war between realms, and the betrayal you will always face at the hands of our enemy.
What possible motive could Killian have for—
Um, hello! That’s easy. He’s already given me the answer—to stop Dior from going to court.
I grind my teeth. Enough! Instinct over circumstance. Heart over logic.
“I believe you,” I tell him. People can call me foolish and judge my decisions all they want. They will be looking at the situation through the dusty lens of the past. I see who this boy has become. “But I can’t abandon Dior. You haven’t seen her sobbing on the floor. If you’re worried about Penumbra—”
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” he repeats. He gives a single shake of his head. “Penumbra is above my pay grade. A well-kept secret among our Generals. The fewer people who know the ins and outs, the less Troika can discover.”
“So you don’t know how Dior was infected?”
“All I know is that General Rosalind Oriana left Myriad to meet with Dior and never returned. Word is Rosalind was ambushed by TLs when she stopped in a guard tower on her way home. And she’s not the only General we’ve lost this week. This morning, General Abdul Ibqal visited Javier Diez—Dior’s boyfriend—and like Rosalind, he died during an ambush on the way home.”
I arch a brow. “You sound skeptical.”
“I am. If Troika were responsible, they would have taken credit. Maybe gloated. So far, they’ve been silent, as if they have no idea what happened.”
There’s another option, I suppose; Myriad could have taken out their own Generals.
Impossible. They wouldn’t...would they?
“Dior is desperate to escape her contract, Killian. I can’t turn my back on her just because we don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes. If I can help her get to court, I will. I must.” I have to act while I have the opportunity.
His sigh is heavy. “I knew you’d say that.” His hands travel the ridges of my spine and stop just above my bottom, leaving me tingling with anticipation. The perfect torment. “Be careful who you trust. There’s a spy among you. That’s how we found your location.”
A spy? “Who in their right mind would agree to live in Troika while remaining loyal to Myriad?”
“Someone who isn’t in their right mind.”
Right. “But how would we not know? I mean, we’re all hooked to...” I go quiet as tendrils of dread coil around me. We aren’t all hooked to the Grid, are we? Some Troikans...like my attackers...can unhook to hide their location. “I’ll be careful,” I croak.
He reaches up to trace his knuckles along my jaw, and I wish, I wish so hard, I could feel him skin-to-skin rather than Shell-to-Shell. His touch is like the wind. I know it’s happening, but I only experience a vibration...like the ghost of a memory. But it’s enough. Today, it’s enough.
“I should go,” he says, but remains in place.
Every cell in my body screams No! Stay! But I reply with a soft, “I know.” I flatten my palm on his chest and imagine I feel the echo of his heartbeat through his Shell.