Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(51)
She shudders and leans into Gingerbread, seeking more comfort and warmth. “Did you live here?”
“Clay and I both did for well over a year.”
“Is this where you died, then?” she asks softly.
“Close,” Clay says, but he doesn’t sound upset. “I escaped and fell off a cliff a few miles away.”
He’s clearly satisfied with his new life, and with his words, a weight lifts from my shoulders. The burden I’d carried for choosing to save Sloan first.
“I died in LA,” I tell her, and leave it at that. No reason to outline all the gory details.
“So...what happened here?” Dior asks, her features pinched. “Exactly.”
“Torture, and a lot of it,” Clay says. “Whips. Chains. There’s even a rack.”
“That’s it. Get me out of here!” she demands.
“We are horrible salesmen,” I mumble to Clay. To Dior, I say, “Don’t worry. You’re going to make this place a sanctuary, where victory begins. Besides, the asylum’s reputation gives you an extra layer of protection. No one will visit the place.”
“True.” She breathes a weary sigh. “All right. I’ll stay.”
“Excellent.” I should probably feel something as I look around. There are the tables where I ate slop. The halls where I was stripped and whipped and dragged, leered at by guards.
There, Archer chatted me up about Troika. There, Killian winked at me.
Those boys...they were the catalyst I desperately needed, helping me transition from victim to victor.
Dior stands on unsteady legs, and we make our way to the staff quarters. Thanks to Meredith, there are no dead, rotting bodies along the way.
As predicted, the staff quarters contain everything Dior will need. Plush couches and chairs, different-sized beds, holoscreen TVs still in working order, since they use batteries made by the realms, and cabinets stocked with food. There’s a bathroom with a door—a luxury the inmates were never provided.
Gingerbread inspects every inch.
“I’ll visit as often as I can,” I promise. “Clay will stay here. He’ll contact me if anyone approaches, and of course, you can tell him to summon me if you need me. Oh! And whatever you do, fight your fear. Apparently fear draws Myriadians like flies.”
“I can’t help how I feel,” she says, clearly offended by my instructions.
“Actually, you can. You can help what you think about. Focus on the positive rather than the negative. Remember you aren’t alone. You’ve got all of Troika on your side.”
“All right.” She flattens a hand over her heart. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
A pretty smile blooms. “I know only eleven percent of people win their court case, but I do feel better about my chances now that you’re here.”
I turn away before she can see the color drain from my cheeks. So much trust...so much pressure!
How many times have I cracked under pressure in the past? Too many!
Buck up! I’m stronger every day. I won’t crack this time. Not again. Never again.
—We don’t know a lot about Penumbra.—I send my voice to Clay through the Grid. —Keep your hands to yourself at all times, just in case. And watch her closely. Report anything unusual. Absolutely anything!—
—Will do.—
She comes up behind me, and though I stiffen, I don’t protest. I don’t like having people at my back. Abhor it, in fact. Too many have struck at me while my head was turned.
“Elizabeth’s team tried to get Gingerbread back from Killian for over a week. You did it in fifteen minutes. If he aided you—and I suspect that he did—he’s setting you up or he cares for you.”
143,10. “He cares for me,” I say with certainty.
“I hope you’re right. I hope he’s changed. If so, I won’t protest if he works my case with you. But if you’re wrong, and he’s doing this to make you think he’s changed, make you think he’s willing to help you, well... I’m sorry. You deserve better.”
My mind whirrs with questions and yes, even secret fears as Clay and I set up the perimeter. An easy task, considering we simply place a disk in each corner of the room, press a button and, boom! A Buckler forms.
As for my fears...before Killian, another ML pretended to be a guard at Prynne, simply to play me. He made me think he loved me, that everything he did was meant to help me.
I fell for his act. And why not? He comforted me when I was beaten, ensured I was given food when I was supposed to be starved, and pretended to aid my escape. Actions meant to prove his feelings for me...to prove I was his soul mate and belonged in Myriad with him.
Dr. Vans killed him before we cleared the building. Or so I thought. It was just another set up. James was a Shell, and his spirit returned to Myriad.
For the first time, I’d seriously considered making covenant with Myriad. I’d wanted to be with him. What a mistake that would have been. I’d been one of thousands to him.
What number am I to Killian?
TROIKA
* * *
From: T_L_2/23.43.2
To: L_N_3/19.1.1
Subject: Rant alert I’ve decided to trust you with my life, Levi Nanne, because I’ve trusted you with something far more precious to me and you’ve exceeded my expectations. (My brother’s life, in case you’re wondering.) There’s a spy among us. Don’t ask me who it is; I don’t know. (Possible spoiler alert: it’s not me.) What I do know? Everything I learn about everything opens a Pandora’s box of questions, and everything I thought I knew I know I never really knew. Now I’m a walking question mark and I do not like it, so you need to help me.