Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(76)

I don’t want to hurt Lina. I want to saturate her in Light.

Is her fragile mind capable of withstanding court? What if she buckles under pressure?

A soft knock sounds at the door. A courtesy knock, only. Deacon doesn’t wait for my response but strides into the room.

“It’s time for us to go.”

I push my grief and confusion to the back of my mind, along with the new riddle. Lockdown!

I know I need to deal with everything. I can’t continue to suppress my feelings. The lockbox is so full the hinges are threatening to bust.

Later. I’ll deal later.

Today, I have a mission to complete, and it deserves my all.

“I’ll be back,” I tell my aunt and move to Deacon’s side. In a matter of minutes, I’ll meet Javier Diez...and spar with Killian.

Ready or not, here I come.





chapter seventeen



* * *



“You cannot accept what’s right if you’re happy doing what’s wrong.”

—Troika

Deacon transports us to...a gym? Oookay. The location is a bit underwhelming considering I expected Killian and Javier to be inside a strip club. But no prob. I can roll.

There’s a boxing ring in the center, where six scantily clad women are hanging over the ropes, watching two muscular guys attempt to punch each other into pulp and powder.

Someone save me! One of those guys is Killian.

He’s inside a Shell, tall, cut and without flaws. His dark hair is slicked back, his beautiful body glistening with sweat.

Shells can be programmed to sweat as well as shiver; they can also be programmed not to sweat and shiver.

I’m glad Killian flipped the On switch.

Am I drooling? I think I’m drooling.

He’s teaching Javier how to box his way—no rules, no honor, anything for victory. Both boys are shirtless, wearing only boxing gloves and shorts. Both are brawny and defined with sinew—though Killian is far more ripped—and covered in tattoos.

The 143,10 tattoo causes the most feminine parts of me to flutter and heat.

To be fair, I’m fascinated by every image etched into Killian’s skin. Underneath the array of lines, stars and severed heads, I sometimes think I spot a map. What I can’t figure out—is it a map of Myriad? Or somewhere in the Land of the Harvest? He’s never said.

Concentrate now, ogle later.

Right.

—Javier looks to be in much better condition today.—Deacon’s voice comes from the Grid, claiming my attention. —In fact, he almost appears...healthy.—

We’re standing in a shadowed corner, unnoticed by the occupants. Cheers ring out, and Deacon sighs.

—He’s going to be a pain to deal with. Put on your big girl panties, Ten.—

Before we arrived, Deacon had told me, “We’ll appear inside a building. There will be MLs inside and outside. As soon as we’re noticed, I’ll put up a Buckler, but for the love of life, try not to get us noticed.”

“Why hasn’t Myriad erected a Buckler around the building?” I’d asked.

“It would give away their location. TLs would see it.”

“Wait. We put a Buckler around Dior’s safe house. How did we not give away her location?”

“You didn’t see behind the scenes. We erected other Bucklers all over the world at the exact same time. It’s a complicated strategy and not one we execute often. There are other ways to mask one, but let’s move on to what matters right now. If you can, lure Javier away and tell him whatever you plan to tell him. If Killian spots you, he’ll try to stop you. So will the other MLs. I’ll take out as many as I can. Just remember, as soon as our Buckler goes up, an army of MLs will be dispatched to disable our shield and pin us in.”

Deep breath in...out. —Big girl panties...on.—They better be. I’ve got one shot at this. Only one.

Bile agitates my stomach. I think I could wash a load of laundry in there. Well, ruin a load of laundry at least. I’m about to sneak past Killian Flynn or challenge him. And I’m about to do it simply for a chance to speak with Javier.

As a girlfriend, I currently suck eggs.

Can’t make any progress standing here. On your mark, get set, go!

Adrenaline surges through me as I move toward the boxing ring, weaving around treadmills, elliptical machines, weight benches and recumbent bikes. There are no other MLs present—not that I can see, anyway—and only three other humans are working out.

What’s my first move? Think, think.

“Hands up,” Killian tells Javier. The closer I get, the more I feel as if I’ve been snared by an unbreakable gravitational pull. “Aye. Like that.”

I love when his Irish accent comes out to play.

For a moment, I imagine the war is over, and we’re openly dating. I see myself pressed against him, his warm breath fanning my skin as his husky voice whispers my name. A promise. A passion. Goose bumps spread over my spirit but thankfully not my Shell.

Stop mooning!

I’m not. Really. See it, do it. Right?

I pause, my mind whirling. The second I’m standing behind the ropes, Killian will notice me. How will he react? Will he shout for reinforcements?

No. Not his style.

Javier will notice me, too. He might or might not know I’m a Shell. He might call for reinforcements. The Buckler will go up and the countdown clock will start. Ticktock, ticktock. As soon as the MLs disable the Buckler, Deacon and I will have to leave or risk being overrun.