Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(85)
* * *
“Every mind needs a bouncer at the door.”
—Troika
That night, sleep eludes me. My mind returns to Lina, possible ways to convince her to go to court—and win!—and the meaning of her song. By morning, I’m exhausted and still clueless.
Levi surprises me with a visit. “We’re doing things differently today,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “Rather than training, you’re going out on assignment.”
My stomach twists with sudden nervousness. “Why?”
“Two birds, one stone.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?” I grumble. “You know, General Nanne, you have a gift. You can make me like and dislike you simultaneously.”
Oh, who am I kidding? I love the man. In many ways, he’s become a father figure to me. A father figure my own wasn’t. Levi supports me. He encourages me.
I might even be used to those annoying life lessons.
Might! I said might!
“You wanted my help with Killian,” he says, “and I want your help with a possible recruit.”
“I’m listening.”
“Remember the woman who begged you to save her daughter Brigitte the day you arrived in Troika? Brigitte is a distant relative on your father’s side. She’s Unsigned, and Mr. Flynn has been assigned to her.”
Myriad clearly believes the more of my family they have, the less I’ll fight the realm.
Diabolical fiends!
Their choice—their consequences.
What they don’t yet realize? We’re all connected. If not by blood, then emotion, experience or pain. One person’s life will always lead to another’s.
“If you accept the mission—” he says.
“I accept,” I rush out.
He chuckles. “I’ll station TLs in the area. I’ll erect a Buckler, keeping other MLs out, minimizing the level of danger you face. Keep in mind Brigitte has a tracker.”
Anger gives me a swift kick. I know all about trackers. Dr. Vans surgically implanted one in my side. As my aunt removed it—in one of her rare moments of lucidity—I begged her to leave it inside me. There’s a mind-altering drug in it, and it made me think I wanted, no, needed the very object of my downfall.
“By the way,” I add. “Did your brilliant mind figure out Lina’s song?”
One fox in the henhouse. In two days, he’ll try to eat his mouse.
Time is running out.
“It...didn’t.” He drums his fingertips against his chin. “But I’m not worried. We’ll figure it out. Go on now. A Shell is waiting for you. By the way, you won’t be monitored. The Eye will not record the mission.”
“Why?”
“Less questions. More actions.”
Suspicious, I ask, “Are you going to get in trouble for this?” To be technical, I’ve been cleared to work only with humans infected with Penumbra.
He rolls his eyes. “Do you really think I’d send you out without clearance?”
Answering a question with a question. A way to mislead?
No, not Levi. He wouldn’t. He’s too straightforward.
I race off and sure enough, I find my Shell waiting at the Veil of Wings, the pimples brighter than ever. Whells are strapped under a leather coat with slits under the arms for easier weapon removal. On one finger is a Whell for Meredith’s ring-gun.
I anchor my spirit inside, fly through the lovely rush of crimson water—such peace—and zoom to...a dark alley, where I’m standing in the only ray of moonlight. In front of me, at the entrance of the alley, humans stroll along a lamplit sidewalk. My sudden appearance has gone unnoticed. Perfect!
I exit, my gaze scanning...scanning...there! My heart leaps with excitement and love. Killian is seated at a table at an outdoor café.
The woman across from him is plump and lovely, with rosy cheeks and a wealth of freckles.
Two birds, one stone.
The streets are cobbled, the buildings around me rich in history and detail. Ancient trees consume the cityscape, adding a delightful country charm.
The hostess asks me if I’d like a table. In French. I understand her, just as I understand the people in Troika, even though I’ve never learned the language.
I open my mouth to respond in kind, but English slips out. I close my eyes and concentrate on the Grid, where a stream of knowledge flows. Like a thought, but softer. A gossamer thread.
“Mademoiselle?” A hand on my shoulder. “Est-ce que tout va bien?”
Is everything all right?
I focus on her. She’s human, and she’s Troikan. As her hand falls away from me, I see the brand in the center of her palm.
“Oui.” In fluent French, I tell her I’m here to meet guests who have already been seated and try not to jump up and down. Too cool!
I don’t wait for her reply, but maneuver through the tables. As I sit between Killian and Brigitte, the ground shakes. The people around me huff and puff with confusion and fear, but I know a Buckler has just been set in place.
Killian, who is far from surprised by my sudden appearance, arches a brow, anger darkening his beautiful eyes. He hasn’t forgiven me for taking Javier, I see. Tough. I blow him a kiss.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say, again in perfect French.