Firstlife Page 64


Fat tears fill my eyes. My chin trembles. Mom is gone. She’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back.

At the asylum, I dreamed of hurting her, of dishing to her what she dished to me. But here, now, I only want her healthy and whole. I didn’t get enough time with her. Would do anything for five more minutes. Just five. To hold her hand, to tell her I forgive her. To hug her and be hugged by her.

Now she’s in Myriad. Hopefully happy. But I won’t get to see her until I die.

Will we be on the same side—or enemies?

Maggie eases onto the edge of the bed. “She held on as long as she could, hoping to see you.” She chews on her bottom lip as tension stretches between us. “Ten.” Sadness is like a rainfall in her voice. “I’m afraid Jeremy doesn’t have much time, either.”

My hands shake as I reach out. I gather the featherlight bundle in my arms and cradle the sweet boy to my chest. His eyes are closed, his dark lashes so long, they cast shadows over his cheeks. His lips are bluer than before, and he’s wheezing. I’ve heard that sound before. The death rattle.

No, he doesn’t have much time.

I’m going to lose my mom and brother in the same day.

Killian stalks into the room. He spots me with the baby, and his angry countenance softens in a blink. The compassion he projects almost kills me.

My tears fall freely as I peer down at Jeremy. One drop splashes on his cheek, and his lids flutter open, his gaze meeting mine for two precious seconds. He has my eyes. One blue, one green. I bring his little hand to my mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“I love you, little man.” Another of my tears lands on the corner of his mouth, and if this were a fairy tale, that tear—born of true love, offered freely—would save him. But this is real life and next he expels his last breath, his head lolling to the side.

I know time is of the essence. Once the physical body dies, the spirit will leave it.

Killian reaches for him, saying, “I’ll make sure he ends up with his mother, lass.”

Even with my mom, Jeremy will be strenuously encouraged to stay in the realm when he reaches the Age of Accountability. And in Troika, he’ll still have family. The grandparents I was never allowed to meet.

And... I want Jeremy to walk in the sunlight, to feel the warmth stroking his skin.

I shake my head...and...and...do it, just do it...and hand my baby brother to Archer, who is no longer so stoic. There are tears in his eyes, as well.

The unreadable mask falls over Killian, and I know I’ve hurt him yet again. I have to do what’s best for my brother.

“He will know love,” Archer says.

This is killing me. “Thank you.”

Archer and Jeremy vanish in a bolt of light, and all I can do is stand in place, trying to see past my pain. But there’s too much of it, and it’s too intense, every bomb of emotion I’ve ever stored in my heart suddenly exploding at once.

With a screech from the depths of my soul, I launch across the room. My hands are on my mother’s dresser. I yank with all my strength, and the entire thing falls to the floor. Wood cracks, and the knickknacks that were sitting on top of it shatter.

“Why hurt two innocents?” I demand. “Why? Who would do this?”

I turn to the nightstand and kick it over. The legs extend into the air, and I kick them, too. I kick and I kick and I kick until one of those legs detaches. Panting, I swoop down to pick it up. I could beat my dad with it. I could dish to him the same pain he paid to have dished to me. Vengeance will be mine at last. He will deserve every blow.

I tell myself these urges are temporary. They will fade, just like my fury. I tell myself I’m a hypocrite. I chastised Archer and Killian for giving in to their hatred, and yet here I am, desperate to do the same.

I tell myself all that—but here, in this moment, it doesn’t matter. My brother is dead. My mother is dead, and my father is free to start a new family with his mistress. When the baby is born, he’ll no longer need me alive. He’ll depend on the contract loophole to save his future while destroying mine. I’ll be at risk once again.

“No, lass.” Killian snatches the stake from my grip. “You’ll never forgive yourself.”

I turn to him and, with another screech, beat my fists against his chest. “Who would do this? Who would hurt a baby?”

He doesn’t try to shield himself, and he doesn’t try to stop me. I pound on him with all my strength, pouring my rage and hurt into every blow. This isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair.

“I wish I had the answers you seek,” he says softly.

“This isn’t meant to be. Do you hear me? This isn’t meant to be.” A child isn’t supposed to die without ever living. A mother and son aren’t supposed to be separated in the Everlife, and yet my mother is in Myriad and my brother is in Troika.

“I know,” he says, surprising me. “This was done deliberately.”

When the last of my strength abandons me, Killian wraps his arms around me and gathers me close. I bury my face in the hollow of his neck. I sob for everything I’ve lost—everything this little boy has lost.

“This isn’t the end for either of them, lass. You’ll see them again.”

He still considers the fact a comfort. I release a near-hysterical laugh. “Yes, but which one will be my enemy? My Troikan brother or my Myriadian mother?” Maybe I should have given Jeremy to Killian.

“Why didn’t you let me take the boy to Myriad?” he asks. “You divided mother and son.”

I look up and notice Maggie is gone...think I remember Killian hustling her out the door during my outburst. “For once, I made a split-second decision based solely on instinct. Do this, not that. Light versus dark.” Right versus wrong.

He considers my words, sighs and kisses my temple. “I ensured your father...fell asleep before I came to your room. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

He punched my father into unconsciousness, didn’t he? “My path started here, and I’d like it to end here.” Determination gives me a surge of strength. “I’m going to make my decision. Today.” I’m not running. Not anymore. I’m meeting my present—and my future—head-on.

He brushes his thumbs over my eyes, capturing the remaining tears. “A good General leads an army. A great General leads every individual member. Today, you are a great General.”

“Maybe, but it’s not because someone else inhabits my body.”

“How do you know?”

The very question I once asked him. “Some things you can’t explain. You just know. Right here.” I take his hand and place it over my racing heart. “The truth is so bright the shadows of doubt are chased away.”

“What of actual proof?”

“I’m living proof.”

He’s thoughtful as he twines our fingers and leads me into the hall. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay, but not in this room.”

“Let’s go to my bedroom.” I point straight ahead, only to realize he probably has the blueprint of the house memorized. “Did you hurt Deacon to get to me?”

“Are you kidding? I wanted to fight him, but he told me to do whatever was necessary to protect you and then he opened the door for me.”

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