Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(81)

    TROIKA



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    From: T_L_2/23.43.2

    To: L_N_3/19.1.1

    Subject: I have Javier Diez

    What am I supposed to do with him?

    Light Brings Sight!

    Conduit-in-training,

    Ten Lockwood

    PS: Peace by Piece: Possible new motto for our realm?????





    TROIKA



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    From: L_N_3/19.1.1

    To: T_L_2/23.43.2

    Subject: What do you think?

    Talk some sense into him.

    Light Brings Sight! Let’s stick with the old one. It actually works.

    General Levi Nanne





chapter eighteen



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“Sometimes good people have to do bad things.”

—Myriad

Kayla, for whatever reason, decides to send me to a ratty motel room. I grimace as I look around. The ceiling is spotted with mold, the carpet is stained with...something I don’t want to contemplate and the furniture is top-of-the-line Goodwill.

A snoring Javier appears on the floor at my feet.

As I wait for him to wake, I send a message to Kayla: Couldn’t we have sprung for a 3-star place?

I’m pretty sure there are STDs on every bangable surface of the room. Not that I’ll complain...much. My Shell can be bleached. Or burned. Yeah. Burning is probably the way to go. I just hope the next one is pimple free.

My comm glows, and I read her reply: You asked for a location switch ASAP. I gave you ASAP, the closest public housing owned by a Troikan. It shouldn’t be in need of repairs. According to our records, we paid to have the entire place refurbished. BTW Levi has TLs and TMs posted around the building.

The owner must have used the money for other purposes. I wonder how that will be dealt with.

Not important right now. Maybe Javier will wake in a good mood if he’s on the bed instead of the floor? Since my Shell is stronger than a human body, I have no trouble lifting him onto one of the twin beds. By the time I straighten, however, I’m trembling.

Weakened by Penumbra?

I back away from him. At the window, I stand between the curtains, letting golden rays of sunlight strengthen me.

Five minutes stretches into ten. I perch at the end of the vacant bed. Amid the silence, Lina’s newest song plays through my mind. One fox in the henhouse. In two days, he’ll try to eat his mouse. Three, yes, three warnings will come. By four five six, you’ll be glum. Look, look, look, for the seven. Eight, nine, Ten is in heaven...

Could Javier be the fox? He’s the closest thing to an Abrogate, after all.

What warnings will sound, and why will I be glum? What is the seven?

My brain must be fried, because I’m stumped.

Finally Javier arches his back, stretching his arms over his head. My heart pounds a wild beat as he blinks open his eyes.

When he sees me, he jolts upright and frowns. “Who are you?” His gaze darts through the room. “Where are we?”

Let the games begin.

“I’m Ten, your Troikan Laborer. As to our location... I suspect we’re in a human petri dish.”

He rubs the palms of his hands into his eyes. “I told the last guy I want nothing to do with your realm.”

“And I forgive you,” I say, batting my lashes at him. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it. Otherwise you would have already signed with Myriad.”

“Wrong. I like to keep my options open.”

“So I hear.”

He eases onto the pillows and pats the spot next to him. “You want to stay and talk about where I’ll live in the Unending, you’ll have to get naked.”

Do women actually find him charming?

I’m not shy—how could I be? During my year in Prynne, cameras watched me every second of every day, even while I showered. Guards, who were allowed to view the feed, often propositioned me.

“No thanks. I’m dating Killian. You remember him, right? The guy who popped you in the face.”

“So what?” Another pat. “You and I can still be...friendly.”

Irritation flares. “You are dating Dior Nichols.”

At last he backs down. “Is she here?”

“Nope. Sorry. But she’s safe.”

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed and sits up. He’s shirtless, his knuckles cracked and scabbed. “Take me to her. I want to see her.”

A buzz in the Grid gives me pause. “Not yet,” I say. I’m supposed to keep the couple apart?

He glares at me, probably trying to decide how to proceed. The black veins under his skin are thicker than Dior’s, and even spill into his eyes. “How did I get here?”

“I carried you.” The truth without revealing more than he needs to know.

He looks me over and barks out a laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

I’m tempted to give him a demonstration. Possible Abrogate, remember? “Look. Dior is in trouble. And so are you.”

In an instant, he sobers. “Is that a threat?” His voice lashes like a whip.