horror in his voice.
I straighten and turn to him. He’s sitting up, diving in front of me.
“No,” he cries, but it’s too late.
Something sharp cuts through his back, comes out his chest, enters mine and rips through my back, pinning us together. The pain is incredible, and it spreads through every cell in my body in seconds until I’m wholly consumed.
She stabs you in the back, Lina said.
I expected the attack to come from Pearl, but she’s dead. I gaze up in horror—and discover Sloan.
Tears glisten in her lashes. “I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m so sorry, but they offered me something I couldn’t refuse.”
The only thing she’d wanted was revenge against Vans, despite his death. Either Pearl lied to her or she has—had—a way to get to Vans, something Killian and Archer were unable to do.
“I hate him more than I love you. I’m sorry,” she repeats with a sob of her own.
A sense of betrayal nearly chokes me.
“Ten.” As Killian tries to pull himself from the spear, the motor hums, cutting at him, cutting at me, leaking poison. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”
With a roar, he yanks backward, freeing himself from the spear. When he rights himself, he repeats, “I’m sorry,” then grabs on to the shaft and jerks with all his might.
I scream as blades cut, cut, cut at me. Finally, though, the spear leaves me.
As blood rushes up my throat and chokes me, I manage to turn my head and watch as Killian swings the spear. Blood-soaked metal glints from the shaft—as it slices through Sloan’s stomach. Her eyes go wide, and her knees collapse.
She’s not going to survive the day, either.
I want to hate her, but as one second ticks into another, I realize I’m just sad for her. Her decisions, like my own, brought her here.
Killian crawls to me. I’m panting and wheezing. The death rattle. This is it, isn’t it? The end. I’m going to die. I’m going to die today. Only minutes...seconds?...remain.
I once told my life story in a nutshell, but some of my numbers have changed.
Seventeen—the number of years I’ve lived. Existed is no longer a strong-enough word.
Two—the number of boys I’ve grown to adore since my escape from Prynne. Archer, the family I’ve craved for so long, and Killian, who took a shattered heart and put the pieces back together.
Three—the number of friends I’ve lost in my quest for the truth.
One—the number of lives I have left.
Three—the number of choices remaining for my eternal future.
“Ten, you won’t survive this.” There’s a tremor in Killian’s voice. “The poison...it’s in my system, too. My Lifeblood won’t help you.”
Baiser de la mort, the kiss of death, even now rushing through me.
He frames my face with his hands. He’s trembling.
“Go,” I manage. “Get...help...for...you.” Don’t die with me! I have a Secondlife. He doesn’t have a third.
“I was wrong about so many things.” He gives my lips a soft kiss. “The victor isn’t always adored and the failure isn’t always abhorred. I failed to sign you... I lost...and I’m glad for it. Sign with Troika, Ten. It’s where you belong.”
Another flood of tears streams down my cheeks. This boy hates losing, and yet he’s letting me go.
“We’ll be...enemies,” I whisper, my body going numb. “You’ll be...killed.”
“Better you’re my enemy and happy than my friend and miserable. And don’t worry about me, lass. They can try to kill me. They have before. I always come out okay.”
I won’t be happy while he’s trapped in Myriad, perhaps placed in the Kennel for good. But I won’t be happy in Myriad, even with this boy at my side.
Only one other option. I remain Unsigned and return to Many Ends...where I may or may not be able to save the spirits trapped inside. Without Archer, I never would have revived after the last visit.
Archer once asked me to trust him. He said we’d figure out a way into Many Ends, a way to save the spirits. And if I can get inside Many Ends, I can get inside Myriad. I can save Killian. Maybe he can go to court.
New plan, new goal.
He presses my hand against his chest, where the wound from the spear still gaps open, his beautiful Lifeblood making his skin glitter. If he doesn’t leave the Shell soon, he could very well die inside it. But I know him, and I know he won’t leave it—or me—until I’ve made my final decision.
I squeeze his hand with as much strength I can muster. “I’m coming...for you, Killian. Again.”
“Ten—”
I smile at