Lifeblood Page 54

    Do I want one of my killers in Troika forever?

    “Also,” I add, “Archer told me the newly dead aren’t supposed to visit their relatives in the Land of the Living. It creates too many problems.”

    “In Lina’s fragile mind, you’ve been dead all your life. No rules will be broken.” He uses his knuckles to gently tap my chin. “Go see her. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for all of eternity.”

    “Is that an order, sir?” My next mission, perhaps? The one during which I’m supposed to obey my superior without question?

    “A suggestion.”

    “Then I need time to consider your suggestion. Are we done here?”

    He sighs. “For now.”

    I return to Victor, who links our arms and draws me away.

    “What was that about?” he asks.

    “Levi told me—”

    Be careful who you trust.

    For the time being, Levi is my go-to guy, and I’m not going to invite anyone else into my inner circle. Better keep the information about Lina close to my heart.

    “Just another teaching moment,” I finally say. It’s the truth without revealing any of the damning details. “A single spark can start a conflagration, or something like that.”

    Victor snorts. “Good to know I’m not the only one who finds the constant lessons tedious.”

    I don’t find them tedious, exactly, but I do find them uncomfortable. They, in themselves, are Light. The very spark Levi mentioned. They chase away shadows of confusion, revealing weaknesses I need to conquer.

    Just once I’d like to find out about a hidden strength, though.

    “Are debriefings always so brutal?” I ask.

    He snickers as he pats the top of my head. “That wasn’t brutal, honey. That was the equivalent of Sunday brunch with your girlfriends.”

    I knock his arm away, which turns his snicker into a chuckle. “Remind me never to accept an invitation to Sunday brunch with you.”

    In the Capital of New, I spot Raanan, Nico and Hoshi again as we pass my apartment building. This time, Rebel, Clementine, Sawyer and Winifred are with them. A reunion? Only the too-young Fatima is missing.

    I experience a twinge of longing. How fun it would be to blow off my duties and join them.

    Killian wouldn’t think twice about attending a party.

    Enjoy the moment, he’d say.

    But I’m not sure I know how to relax. I’d probably ruin everyone’s good time.

    I force myself to continue on and enter a Stairwell with Victor. We end up on the ritzier side of the city, where mansions regally line the streets, each boasting a different design. My favorites are the medieval fortress, the Disneyland castle and the Southern antebellum.

    Victor stops in front of the antebellum, where a cobblestone walkway is canopied by a huge violet wisteria tree and leads to double doors with stained-glass centers. On either side is a winding staircase that climbs to the second-floor balcony, where a glistening wrought-iron bow and arrow hangs.

    A bow and arrow. How appropriate.

    “What’s going to happen to this masterpiece if Archer doesn’t win the Resurrection?” I ask.

    “It will be bulldozed, a new home built for a new graduate.” He lightly taps my shoulder. “But we’re going to make sure he wins, aren’t we?”

    “If he doesn’t, it won’t be because I didn’t give the vote my all.” I just haven’t found the right way to go about it.

    We enter the abode, and all I can do is gape. A wide entrance hall spills into a formal parlor, which leads to a polished library, an opulent dining room, and a cheery sitting room.

    “Archer lived here? My Archer?”

    “He earned the right.” Victor sounds proud. “Because we have free will, the work we do carries great significance. We choose, and so we are rewarded for our successes.”

    I wander about, enamored by the antique furnishings, and snared by the portraits on the wall. There’s one of Victor...a handful of people I’ve never met... Levi... Deacon... Killian—

    Killian?

    My heart stutters against my ribs. Oh, yes. Killian’s beautiful face peers at me with a mixture of sadness and hope.

    This is how Archer saw him. As someone worth saving. And—no way! Beside Killian’s portrait is one of me. On the canvas, I am sunlight and fire. I burn with the kind of passion I’m not sure I’ve ever felt.

    “Who painted these?” I ask, somehow able to speak past my awe.

    “Archer. He worked while others slept.”

    What? He never told me he had such amazing talent.

    “I knew who you were the day I ran into you,” Victor admits with a sheepish grin. “He talked about you all the time. The girl who would change the worlds. He is the reason I volunteered to be on your team.”

    A lump grows in my throat. The girl who would change the worlds.

    Not one, maybe not two. Possibly three. Pressure...

    I wonder if Archer is disappointed in me right now.

    “Tell me your story,” I say in an effort to distract myself from the haunting thought. “How did you die?”

    “In the womb. I never had a Firstlife, only an Everlife.”

    He goes silent. I wave my hand in a command for more information.

    “My mother met Ambrosine, the Prince of Ravens, at a party he attended in the Land of the Harvest. She fell in love with him, and they...dated isn’t the right word. They spent time together. He bought her a house and, for a time, visited her regularly. She survived a car crash, I didn’t. Her family in Myriad raised me, and Ambrosine ensured we had the best of everything.”

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