Firstlife
Page 65
Surprise, surprise. Troika and Myriad worked together.
We enter what had once been my sanctuary, and everything is just as I left it. The king-size bed has a large white canopy. When I was a little girl who dreamed of living in the moonlight of Myriad and marrying a handsome prince, my dad would use my sheets to make me a castle.
My mind shies away from the memory. Too painful right now.
I pull from Killian’s side to walk around, bypassing the chrome-and-glass nightstand to stop in front of the vanity, where I used to sit every morning before school to fix my hair and makeup. Over the marble fireplace hangs a portrait of white roses. While some of the roses are skillfully done, some are clearly not so skillfully done. My mother and I painted the portrait together. Our first—really our only—dual project. My chin trembles. I was seven at the time.
I walk to the bed and recline in the center. Killian parts the window curtains and peers outside—searching for trouble? He checks the seam of the pane and places a small black device on the lock.
“A flash-scribe?” I ask.
“Similar. This one creates sounds waves imperceptible to humans. It will keep spirits from entering the house and spying on you, but not Shells.” He closes the distance and stretches out beside me, dragging me against his body, holding me close, offering comfort.
It isn’t long before Archer appears in a blaze of light. He spots us and, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, stretches out at my other side.
Killian stiffens, but doesn’t protest. I’m glad. I’m surrounded by pure male aggression, and I like it. I take comfort in it, the most I’ve experienced in a long, long time. These boys are my friends. I owe them so much. I mean, even though I’ve distrusted them, hurt them, snapped at them and insulted them, they’ve stuck by my side, even putting their own agendas aside.
“Jeremy is with General Levi, a man I respect with every ounce of my being,” Archer says. “He’ll be protected and loved as if he is Levi’s son. In fact, Levi is already teaching your brother a new language. Does either of you know what goo-goo and ga-ga mean?”
I want to laugh. I want to cry. “I think they mean happiness awaits.” I reach over, squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
He squeezes back.
Killian growls low in his throat, but again, he doesn’t protest. He takes my other hand.
The name Levi strikes a chord inside me. “My TL, before I was sent to Prynne, was named Levi.”
“One and the same,” Archer says.
Good. That’s good. I’d had no idea Levi was a General; he’d never announced his title, but he was kind to me.
Are you living your parents’ dream...or your own?
“Why did you choose to leave Myriad when you reached the Age of Accountability?” I ask Archer. For my benefit, but also Killian’s. I know he’s agonized over it. “Especially since your father is there...and the boy you once considered a brother.”
Killian doesn’t just stiffen; he goes rigid.
“I was training to be a Laborer, learning to occupy a Shell and travel to the Land of the Harvest. A group of us accompanied our trainer on a mission, not to sign a soul but to ambush a handful of Troikans. Men and women who were helping Firstlifers plant a garden.”
“I remember,” Killian says, his voice tight.
“We slaughtered them.” Archer’s voice cracks. “We slaughtered them, and as one of the women lay dying, hemorrhaging inside her Shell, unable to leave it because I’d pinned her inside with an arrow, she smiled at me. Smiled, with Lifeblood on her teeth. She managed to gasp out I forgive you. Can you imagine? She forgave me, when I suddenly couldn’t forgive myself. I was the victor, soon to be rewarded for my deeds, when I should have been abhorred and punished. I knew I couldn’t go on that way.”
Footsteps sound outside my door. In unison, we sit up. My heart pounds against my ribs as the boys unsheathe weapons I didn’t know they carried. Either my dad has woken up...or my potential killer is on the way.
Crack!
Hinges on the door bust, shards flying in every direction. Three big, beefy men I can only assume are Shells rush inside the room, guns drawn.
“On your knees,” one of them shouts. “Now.”
Both Killian and Archer leap to their feet, blocking me from the line of fire.
“You want to live, you leave.” Killian squares his shoulders. “Now.”
He doesn’t wait for the men to obey, and neither does Archer. The two hammer away on the triggers of their guns. There’s no blast or pop, only a soft whoosh as a dart embeds in each of the Shells.
Darts...darts...
This one, the Stag, shoots darts that, when embedded in a Shell, trap the spirit inside and shut down mobility.
In a blaze of light, three new Shells appear on one side of the room, and three more appear on the other. They are armed, as well, and we are completely surrounded. Killian and Archer continue shooting, but they can’t dodge the darts fired at them without making me a target.
They both take a round to the chest and drop to their knees.
“Will kill you...for this.” Killian’s voice is barely audible, but I hear the menace in his tone.
“Stop! Enough!” Not wanting the boys further incapacitated, I put my hands in the air and move in front of them.
“You heard her. Enough.” A woman in a formfitting red dress and killer heels strides into the room. Madame Pearl Bennett.
Her expression softens as she meets my gaze. “Hello, Ten. I’ve missed you.”
Chapter twenty
“Do your best, not just what’s good enough.”
—Troika
Pearl enfolds me in a hug I can’t bring myself to return. She smells just like I remember: a mix of roses and lilac. When she pulls back, she’s smiling at me with fondness. “Were you hurt while the boys were restrained?”
Once upon a time, I really liked this woman. I think I even loved her. But she convinced my father to send me to Prynne. She requested unimaginable tortures be visited on me. Now she wants to chat as if we’re long-lost pals?
I remain mute.
She turns to the Shells. “Collar Killian before he’s able to cause any more trouble.”
“Don’t you dare—” Killian goes quiet when the Shell closest to him wraps a glowing band around his neck. Horror and rage shine in his eyes.
“Stop!” I reach for him, desperate to help him, even though I have no idea what the collar is or does. But judging by his reaction, it’s bad. Really bad.
“While a human can command a Laborer, you have no authority over a Leader.” Pearl clasps my wrist, holding me in place with surprising strength. “I know you’re fond of Killian. You were always fond of him, but he’s been a very naughty boy and needs to be transported to the Kennel.”
Kennel? And what does she mean, I’ve always been fond of him?
The answer slides into place. Ashley. She thinks I’m Fused with her daughter.
“Don’t you dare!” The muscles in Killian’s face and shoulders go taut as he struggles for freedom. “You have no right.”
“Please, Pearl,” I plead, my hands forming a steeple. “Don’t hurt him.” I never begged Vans for anything, but then, he’d never had anything worth begging for.
We enter what had once been my sanctuary, and everything is just as I left it. The king-size bed has a large white canopy. When I was a little girl who dreamed of living in the moonlight of Myriad and marrying a handsome prince, my dad would use my sheets to make me a castle.
My mind shies away from the memory. Too painful right now.
I pull from Killian’s side to walk around, bypassing the chrome-and-glass nightstand to stop in front of the vanity, where I used to sit every morning before school to fix my hair and makeup. Over the marble fireplace hangs a portrait of white roses. While some of the roses are skillfully done, some are clearly not so skillfully done. My mother and I painted the portrait together. Our first—really our only—dual project. My chin trembles. I was seven at the time.
I walk to the bed and recline in the center. Killian parts the window curtains and peers outside—searching for trouble? He checks the seam of the pane and places a small black device on the lock.
“A flash-scribe?” I ask.
“Similar. This one creates sounds waves imperceptible to humans. It will keep spirits from entering the house and spying on you, but not Shells.” He closes the distance and stretches out beside me, dragging me against his body, holding me close, offering comfort.
It isn’t long before Archer appears in a blaze of light. He spots us and, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, stretches out at my other side.
Killian stiffens, but doesn’t protest. I’m glad. I’m surrounded by pure male aggression, and I like it. I take comfort in it, the most I’ve experienced in a long, long time. These boys are my friends. I owe them so much. I mean, even though I’ve distrusted them, hurt them, snapped at them and insulted them, they’ve stuck by my side, even putting their own agendas aside.
“Jeremy is with General Levi, a man I respect with every ounce of my being,” Archer says. “He’ll be protected and loved as if he is Levi’s son. In fact, Levi is already teaching your brother a new language. Does either of you know what goo-goo and ga-ga mean?”
I want to laugh. I want to cry. “I think they mean happiness awaits.” I reach over, squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
He squeezes back.
Killian growls low in his throat, but again, he doesn’t protest. He takes my other hand.
The name Levi strikes a chord inside me. “My TL, before I was sent to Prynne, was named Levi.”
“One and the same,” Archer says.
Good. That’s good. I’d had no idea Levi was a General; he’d never announced his title, but he was kind to me.
Are you living your parents’ dream...or your own?
“Why did you choose to leave Myriad when you reached the Age of Accountability?” I ask Archer. For my benefit, but also Killian’s. I know he’s agonized over it. “Especially since your father is there...and the boy you once considered a brother.”
Killian doesn’t just stiffen; he goes rigid.
“I was training to be a Laborer, learning to occupy a Shell and travel to the Land of the Harvest. A group of us accompanied our trainer on a mission, not to sign a soul but to ambush a handful of Troikans. Men and women who were helping Firstlifers plant a garden.”
“I remember,” Killian says, his voice tight.
“We slaughtered them.” Archer’s voice cracks. “We slaughtered them, and as one of the women lay dying, hemorrhaging inside her Shell, unable to leave it because I’d pinned her inside with an arrow, she smiled at me. Smiled, with Lifeblood on her teeth. She managed to gasp out I forgive you. Can you imagine? She forgave me, when I suddenly couldn’t forgive myself. I was the victor, soon to be rewarded for my deeds, when I should have been abhorred and punished. I knew I couldn’t go on that way.”
Footsteps sound outside my door. In unison, we sit up. My heart pounds against my ribs as the boys unsheathe weapons I didn’t know they carried. Either my dad has woken up...or my potential killer is on the way.
Crack!
Hinges on the door bust, shards flying in every direction. Three big, beefy men I can only assume are Shells rush inside the room, guns drawn.
“On your knees,” one of them shouts. “Now.”
Both Killian and Archer leap to their feet, blocking me from the line of fire.
“You want to live, you leave.” Killian squares his shoulders. “Now.”
He doesn’t wait for the men to obey, and neither does Archer. The two hammer away on the triggers of their guns. There’s no blast or pop, only a soft whoosh as a dart embeds in each of the Shells.
Darts...darts...
This one, the Stag, shoots darts that, when embedded in a Shell, trap the spirit inside and shut down mobility.
In a blaze of light, three new Shells appear on one side of the room, and three more appear on the other. They are armed, as well, and we are completely surrounded. Killian and Archer continue shooting, but they can’t dodge the darts fired at them without making me a target.
They both take a round to the chest and drop to their knees.
“Will kill you...for this.” Killian’s voice is barely audible, but I hear the menace in his tone.
“Stop! Enough!” Not wanting the boys further incapacitated, I put my hands in the air and move in front of them.
“You heard her. Enough.” A woman in a formfitting red dress and killer heels strides into the room. Madame Pearl Bennett.
Her expression softens as she meets my gaze. “Hello, Ten. I’ve missed you.”
Chapter twenty
“Do your best, not just what’s good enough.”
—Troika
Pearl enfolds me in a hug I can’t bring myself to return. She smells just like I remember: a mix of roses and lilac. When she pulls back, she’s smiling at me with fondness. “Were you hurt while the boys were restrained?”
Once upon a time, I really liked this woman. I think I even loved her. But she convinced my father to send me to Prynne. She requested unimaginable tortures be visited on me. Now she wants to chat as if we’re long-lost pals?
I remain mute.
She turns to the Shells. “Collar Killian before he’s able to cause any more trouble.”
“Don’t you dare—” Killian goes quiet when the Shell closest to him wraps a glowing band around his neck. Horror and rage shine in his eyes.
“Stop!” I reach for him, desperate to help him, even though I have no idea what the collar is or does. But judging by his reaction, it’s bad. Really bad.
“While a human can command a Laborer, you have no authority over a Leader.” Pearl clasps my wrist, holding me in place with surprising strength. “I know you’re fond of Killian. You were always fond of him, but he’s been a very naughty boy and needs to be transported to the Kennel.”
Kennel? And what does she mean, I’ve always been fond of him?
The answer slides into place. Ashley. She thinks I’m Fused with her daughter.
“Don’t you dare!” The muscles in Killian’s face and shoulders go taut as he struggles for freedom. “You have no right.”
“Please, Pearl,” I plead, my hands forming a steeple. “Don’t hurt him.” I never begged Vans for anything, but then, he’d never had anything worth begging for.
