Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(89)
He rolls to his side and tucks me against him. “Until I know for sure I will defect.”
“You will.” I wiggle, settling in, and trace a fingertip down his chest. “I’ll encourage you with a kiss every day if I must.” I heave a heavy sigh. “Oh, the things I do for love.”
“Like you wouldn’t enjoy every second of my encouragement.” He puts me in a headlock and rubs the crown of my head until I beg for mercy.
Mercy he grants. We resettle on the blankets. As I catch my breath, he scrubs a hand down his face and says, “I’m sorry I shot you.”
An unexpected laugh bubbles up. How quickly we can go from kissing to wrestling to apologizing. It’s an odd segue, but I can dig it. “You’re forgiven. Your heart was in the right place.”
“Exactly right.” His grip tightens on me, as if he fears I’ll float away. Leaning over, he gently runs my earlobe between his teeth. “Ask me anything, and I’ll tell ye the truth.”
Shivers overtake me. Carte blanche with Killian Flynn? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. “Has a court date been set for my mom?”
“Not yet. But Levi has agreed—”
“You spoke with Levi? How? When?”
“Yes, I’ve spoken to him. Several times. He sometimes shows up when I’m out on a mission. Just boom, there he is, in my face. Anyway,” he grumbles. “Levi has agreed to find a Barrister for your mother’s case.”
I’m thrilled. But why hasn’t Levi told me?
What else has he been keeping from me?
Deep breath in...out... Okay, I’ll deal with Levi later. “Thank you for everything you’re doing for her. And my dad? How is he?”
“He’s being trained as a Laborer, but not with the new arrivals. He has a private tutor because he’s on the fast track.”
I’m not surprised. At the end of his Firstlife, my dad’s love for me—if he ever really loved me—had darkened into hate. He blamed me for the loss of his fame and fortune, and paid to have me killed.
The memory stings.
I trace the image etched into Killian’s wrist. The ten points in Myriad’s brand.
“All right. Fair is fair. Ask me anything, and I’ll answer honestly,” I say, already dreading what he’ll want to know.
He doesn’t hesitate. “It’s time you fessed up. How badly do you want to lick my tattoos?”
I cover my mouth to stop my laugh, but tendrils slip out. “That’s what you want to know? Fine. The answer is badly. Terribly. Madly. Are the tattoos on your spirit, too?” I’ve only seen his spirit from the neck up.
“You’ll have to wait and find out. By the way, your Shell’s pimples are cute.”
I slap his hand away. “You dirty rat! How dare you mention my Shell’s flaws.”
“Your Shell’s cute flaws.”
I slap his chest now. “I am so close to biting off your tongue.”
He barks out a laugh, and the genuine display of amusement warms me from head to toe. “You need my tongue more than I do, lass. But go ahead. Do it. I’ll just grow a new one.”
Yes, I’ve seen him do that very thing. The day I experienced Firstdeath, in fact.
We both sober, reminded of the harsh reality of our situation. He turns his head to peer into my eyes—to peer at me as if I’m a treasure he can’t live without.
“Being without you...it’s been harder than I expected,” he says.
“I know. I hate being without you.”
He rolls on top of me, kisses me again, kisses me hard and deep and thorough, until I’m panting and shaking and aching, desperate for more. For him. Only him.
“Request a court date,” I say, close to begging him. “Join me in Troika. You aren’t happy in Myriad.”
Features ragged, tortured, he shakes his head. “I can’t leave yet.”
“You can!” I have to reach this boy. “Killian... I know you believe in Fusion. I know you think your mother’s spirit is Fused with a human, but Myriad is wrong. Troikan spirits enter into the Rest after Second-death and Myriadian spirits... I think they enter Many Ends. Spirits never die, right?” I rush out before he can protest. “After Second-death they have to go somewhere, and there’s a connection between Myriad and Many Ends. Why else would there be a connection?”
He stiffens, but he doesn’t argue with me. And I think... I think I’m finally making progress.
One by one...
“I don’t know if Myriadians end up in Many Ends after Second-death,” he rasps. “You saw no proof of that when you escaped, and I’m not sure how it would work. But I do know Fusion is a lie. When both my General and my Leader refused to tell me my mother’s name, pretending they had to jump through hoops to get the information, I took matters into my own hands. I snuck around and got the information on my own.”
I tremble as I ask, “What name did you discover?”
“In her Firstlife, her name was Honor Flynn. The human she is supposedly Fused to is Estella Orzo.” He tenses as he says, “I visited her. That girl...my mother was not a part of that girl.”
The anger in his tone gives added weight to his conviction. Proceed with care. “You died as an infant and never met your mother. How are you so sure?” What finally convinced him?