Dead of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 1)

“I don’t know how, but it works.” I gave him an abbreviated explanation of Yin and Yang and the body. My voice whispered along the flagstone walls until we paused at the final step. Footfalls padded from the depths below. Michio’s jet eyes emerged from the dark.

“What took you so long?” I asked.

Three knives were pressed against my chest. Then the turquoise rock swung above me, dimmed gray by the dark.

A fist of emotions grabbed hold of my esophagus and squeezed. He delayed, risked his life, to collect my knives and my necklace. “Michio.” A choke.

He tied it around my neck, staring into my eyes. I tried fill my expression with all the things I wanted to say, feelings I couldn’t form into words.

Too soon, he looked away, blank mask in place. “Can you feel how many?”

I touched his face, angled his cheek against mine, and imbibed his Yang. My stomach stirred, and the trill coiled up my spine. Fingers of energy stretched from my chest, seeking. Vibes bounced back along a dozen invisible threads. “Twelve, at least.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched.

I leaned back. “I held at least that many to get here.”

Lines crimped his brow and vanished just as fast. His chest flexed under the strap of his bag as he reached behind his back and pulled out a long narrow staff. Where the hell did that come from?

“I’ll lead.” He glared at Roark. “Constant contact with her will be more effective than your sword.”

“Hmm. A weapon upgrade. I’m trading up for one with curves.”

“Stop it.” I tried for a scolding tone, but my smile ruined it.

A gruff noise scraped from Michio’s throat and his eyes hardened, locked on Roark. “Where was the explosion?”

“Southwest corner.” Roark pushed away from the wall.

Black eyes narrowed. “The drive entrance? Our only access to the street?”

Roark grinned. “Wen’ be needing a car.”

Understanding softened Michio’s features.

Confusion twisted mine. “The explosion was you?” I asked Roark.

“Jesse.”

It sounded both odd and strangely comforting to hear Jesse’s name whispered in Roark’s lyrical accent. “And we’re meeting him where?”

“The dock,” Michio answered. “Ready?”

I solidified my link with the aphids. “Red-eyed and hair-lipped.”

Two gorgeous faces, frozen in puzzlement, stared at me. I sighed and shooed them with the knives.

Blackness draped the corridor. Our pace plodded until our eyes adjusted. Illuminated silhouettes wavered at the end of the hall.

“Eight behind us,” I whispered. “They don’t see us.”

Shadowed heaps came into focus as we stole through the passage. Bodies stacked waist high, sans heads.

“Well done, Father.” Michio nodded, sidling around a headless slump.

The husk of a sconce dangled on the wall next to my face. “Something ate the torches.”

“Sorry, love. Me night vision is better than the sodding snarlies’.” Roark lifted a shoulder. “So I killed the lights.”

The coppery scent of blood smothered the narrow space. Thick plip-plops resonated between the suction of our bare feet as we mucked through.

I jumped over a stretch of disembodied parts with the help of Roark’s hands on my hips. He set me down, but his arms wrapped around me, fingers tracing my ribs. “Ye lost a rake of kilos.”

Michio cut his eyes at me. His expression said nothing. It didn’t have to. After weeks of forced meals, I knew what he was thinking. “I’m fine.”

“Ach. You’re a pull through for a rifle, love. Feels like I’m hugging a throwing star.”

Hard to sound threatening while leaning into his attentive fingers, but I gave my best growl. “This is not the time—”

He pinched my ass. “Den’ get narky.” His head lowered. Lips brushed my earlobe. “You’re still sexy as hell.”

“Nix the flirting—” My insides jumped.

A green flicker sprang from the bend up ahead. Three more followed. I shaped my command, sent it winding up and out. Stop.

A slow hiss replaced the scraping of feet. The glowing forms stilled.

“There’s four ahead, blocking the door. Roark, I’m going to move to Michio. Then I’ll hold them while you gut them? ‘kay?”

He pressed his lips to my brow and turned us, guiding my back to Michio’s chest.

I clutched the arms snaking around my waist and followed the wall. Bones cracked underfoot. Mold and death weighted the air. And Stay was a staccato beating on my ribs.

We approached the waiting chomps of jowls. Strings of ichor-like dribble doused the walls. Ribs expanded and vibrated under their diaphanous skin.

I hissed back and reinforced the invisible wall of resistance.

The sword whooshed. A wet thud followed by another. Two left.

All-white eyes held mine, silent and steady, despite the distortion in its androgynous face. Then the eyes went flat, and the head rolled off the shoulders.

“Bloody hell, that was easy.” Roark grabbed my hand, pulled us forward. “Could’ve used ye on me way in.”

I stepped around the fourth body, one I hadn’t even seen him kill.

A few paces ahead, we stumbled into the quadrangle. My stomach churned. Dozens of silent cravings stitched through me.