Suddenly I’m free, Big ripped away from me. Gasping for breath, I scramble to my feet, ready to fend off Big before he’s able to pin me again, but I find him on the ground, his eyes closed, a pool of blood forming around him.
Killian is focused on the remaining brutes. Whatever he did to Big scares the other two greatly.
Bigger drops Bow to the ground. “She yours. Take, take.”
A small gasp leaves the girl. She blinks open her eyes as she struggles to sit up. One second...two...she proves unsuccessful, as if her body has turned to stone.
“Malfunction,” she manages to grit out.
Bigger and Biggest hold up their hands, palms out, and take a step back.
I race forward, but Killian beats me to Bow’s side. He raises his arm, his own dagger glinting in the sunlight, and angrily meets my gaze. “These men are Unsigned, which makes them your brethren. Is this really what you want for your life? Do you wish to spend eternity with them?” I expect him to throw the weapon at the brutes—but he says, “Show her who you really are, Archer,” before slamming the blade deep, deep into Bow’s chest.
TROIKA
From: A_P_5/23.43.2
To: L_N_3/19.1.1
Subject: Ten, Ten, Ten
Bow is toast. The inferior Shell malfunctioned, allowing the Unsigned to overpower me, and Killian to stab me.
Speaking of the worst spirit in the Everlife, Killian has the girl all to himself right now—and that’s the good news. She’s intrigued with him, just like—never mind. I can see it in her eyes, and I know any attempt to keep the two apart will only make the intrigue stronger. How would you like me to proceed? What have I been cleared to do?
Archer Prince
TROIKA
From: L_N_3/19.1.1
To: A_P_5/23.43.2
Subject: Your Capacity to Forgive Is Humbling
You need to let go of your anger with Mr. Flynn. Miss Lockwood was right. It wounds you. And if you aren’t careful, one day it will wound innocents.
I’ll send you another Shell. As generous as I am, I’ll even send one from your personal collection.
And yes, you’re right. Finally! Attempting to keep Miss Lockwood away from Mr. Flynn will do more harm than good, but try to remember that Mr. Flynn is his own worst enemy. He’ll destroy her intrigue all on his own. After all, pushy people get pushed, and Mr. Flynn’s actions will speak for him. Let yours speak for you.
Her grandmother has spoken with the Generals and, because Ten has admitted she needs help, you have permission to help her through any means necessary—unless, of course, the girl dismisses you. Unfortunately, we still can’t stay where we aren’t welcome.
Also, watch your six...or rather, your ten.
General Levi Nanne
TROIKA
From: A_P_5/23.43.2
To: L_N_3/19.1.1
Subject: Does Every Moment Have to Be a Teaching Moment?
It’s annoying.
Anyway. I’m getting through to Ten, I know I am. And yet she’s still drowning in a sea of doubts, unwilling to trust her own instincts. If she won’t grab hold of the life raft I’ve thrown at her, we ARE going to lose her.
I’ve grown to like her. I don’t want to lose her.
TROIKA
From: L_N_3/19.1.1
To: A_P_5/23.43.2
Subject: Prepare for Another Teaching Moment
I remember the day Miss Lockwood was born and the uproar it caused in the realms. She absorbed and released so much Light our monitors were blinded. You remember the day, too; you simply weren’t told why such a bright light cut through our realm. Myriadians claim she glowed so brightly because she was Fused with one of their Generals. Though they also claim to love the darkness, they want our light. They always have.
And I know, I know. Miss Lockwood isn’t exactly glowing right now. Darkness shrouds her. But we don’t give up, Mr. Prince. Ever. And while we have permission from the Generals to do what needs doing, Miss Lockwood’s will comes first. What she accepts from you, give. What she rejects, try again another way. If she won’t grab hold of your life raft, throw her a rope. If she won’t grab hold of your rope, throw her a branch.
TROIKA
From: A_P_5/23.43.2
To: L_N_3/19.1.1
Subject: I Really Hope...
I’m not this irritating to Ten.
chapter eight
“Fear is the enemy at your back with a knife to your throat.”
—Troika
I’m numb with shock as much as cold. Killian—the boy who saved me from Vans and potential rapists—just stabbed Bow in the heart.
Killian just stabbed Bow in the heart!
Rage peeks through my numbness. Sorrow bulldozes through it.
One blow. One life—now gone?
After everyone Killian killed at the asylum, I should have seen this