Lifeblood (Everlife #2)(92)

The subject change throws me, but I rebound quickly. “Yeah. I figured. Maybe the henhouse is Troika? I’d guess my apartment, but henhouse suggests more than one hen, and I live alone.” I scrub a hand down my face. “Maybe I should visit Lina again.”

He winces. “I received word she asked to be released. We had to let her go. We couldn’t violate her free will.”

My first instinct is blast him for failing to inform me the second he found out. But honestly? I should be grateful he told me anything at all. He doesn’t owe me information. As a General, he must deal with thousands of subordinates and all their loved ones and friends.

More than that, he suggested I go see Lina days before I agreed to do so. Had I gotten my butt in gear sooner, I could have spent more time with her. I could have had a second chance to talk to her about going to court.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“Good question. Not with Myriad, I don’t think. They would have tried to use her against you.”

True.

He gives me a half smile. “I think you’ll be safest in your apartment. Your team can stay with you. I’ll station men and women I trust in and around the rest of the building.”

I don’t want anyone endangered on my behalf, but I also know preparation can mean the difference between victory and defeat. “All right. Yes. Thank you.”

He blinks at me. “What’s with you today? What happened to your stubborn refusal to obey orders?”

“I’m not stupid. Not all the time,” I add with a grumble. I kick out my legs and tap my shoes together. Tap, tap, tap. The rhythm sooths me. “Aren’t you tired of this war, Levi?” I am, and I’ve only been part of it for a few months. “I crave peace.”

“Victory matters more than fatigue,” he says, offering no more.

“Have the realms ever attempted peace talks?”

“No. Why would we? We can’t exist in harmony. We want the same prize—humans—and only one of us can win.”

“Sharing is caring.”

“To share with Myriad, we must compromise. When we compromise we lose the essence of who we are.”

Tap, tap, tap. “I’m going to prove you wrong, Levi. I’m going to fight for peace. One person at a time.”

His brand glows. “Do what you feel you must.” He checks the message, and his good mood fades. “I’ve had a group of TLs following Brigitte since she left the café. They were ambushed by MLs, and our injured are returning.” He waves toward the door. “Go to the Sanatorium. Today’s training will come from the Healers. You need to better understand their job.”

Eager to help, I blow Jeremy a kiss and head out. Light strokes me, warms and fills me. I inhale deeply, exhale slowly and try to push the rays through my pores. To warm and fill others.

The rays fizzle, and my disappointment is keen.

I spend the next few hours at the Sanatorium, doing whatever my Healer—Dawn—tells me. And for the most part, my patients are kind and grateful.

Then I enter the last room on the second floor.

Elizabeth is perched on the edge of a gurney. She’s wearing a bra and a pair of panties, and there are gashes all over her.

She’s hemorrhaging, being drained of Light.

This is going to be fun.

She scowls at me. “Why are you here?”

“Levi’s orders.” I set my tray of supplies on the table next to her bed. “Let’s get you patched up before you bleed to Second-death.” I lift a fat syringe filled with concentrated manna.

“I’m not going to let you stick me. You’ll enjoy it,” she mutters, and bats at my arm. “Healer! Someone! Anyone!”

“Come on. Don’t be a baby.” I sidestep her and insert the needle into one of her many injuries.

She hisses and snaps, “Your mom is a baby.”

“A mom joke? So mature.” I empty the syringe and drag a chair next to her bed. “I don’t care how rude you are. I’m staying here until I know you’re healing properly.”

“Whatever.” She grabs another syringe from the tray and injects another wound. After a few seconds, the medication eases some of her pain, allowing her to spread ointment and apply a bandage.

“Done,” she says, waxen. There are dark circles under her eyes. “You can go now.”

“What’s your problem with me? Besides the obvious, I mean. Yes, I made mistakes and people got killed. But you punished me, right?”

A flush of shame spills over her cheeks.

“The spiked board,” I add, just to be clear. “That was you.”

A pause. Then a single, curt nod.

“Who helped you?” Most likely Raanan. But who else? I remember three.

Her scowl returns in a hurry. “I convinced the others to act against you. The crime is mine and mine alone.”

I admire her loyalty. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” Because of Meredith, I know how deeply I hurt this girl. She misses her boyfriend, and I am to blame. “The day of my Firstdeath, I protected Killian because he’s important to me, as your boyfriend was—is—to you. No matter his realm affiliation. Protecting him was instinctive. I just wish... I wish we weren’t at war. No battles, no deaths.”

I’m as bad as Archer and Killian, aren’t I? Using every opportunity to work my agenda.