He stared at the rug, feeling Flic’s words pierce him more deeply than any blade ever had. Flic was right. He would have died for Evie, without hesitation. And now everything he’d believed in for so long, everything he’d fought for, had been revealed as nothing more substantial than a trace of smoke, quickly dismissed, easily brushed away. ‘Well, I guess I was wrong after all. I guess you were right.’
Flic shook her head hard. ‘I wasn’t right.’
He looked up at her, giving her a sardonic smile. That was the first time Flic had ever claimed not to be right about anything. She ignored his smile and dropped down onto her knees in front of him.
‘Listen to me, Lucas,’ she said. ‘Whatever you saw, whatever you might think right now, I know for a fact how she feels about you.’
His smile twisted into a scowl.
Flic carried on, undaunted. ‘She was here the other night – she came to find me. She loves you. You should have seen her – she was a mess. She looked like she hadn’t eaten or slept in months. God, Lucas, none of us have. I thought you were dead too. I still can’t believe you’re here.’
He frowned at her. Why was Flic doing this?
‘I’ll admit I wasn’t her biggest fan when you first showed up here,’ she carried on. ‘But, I don’t know, Lucas – there’s something about her – about the way you were when you were with her. Like you two were meant for each other. I see that now.’
Lucas stood up. Back when it was the two of them against half the realms, back when Evie needed him, before she’d made her first kill, back when they thought she was the White Light, he might have believed so, but now she had someone else fighting alongside her, someone who was doing a far better job of keeping her safe than he ever had.
‘You have to tell her,’ Flic urged. ‘You have to let her know you’re alive, at the very least. Let her decide.’
Lucas felt his shoulders tense beneath his shirt. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to tell her.’
Truthfully he didn’t think he could see her, be that close to her and have her tell him to his face that she was with Cyrus, hear the excuses fall from her lips.
He shook his head. ‘She can’t know, Flic. Not about me or about the way through being open. If she thinks it is, she might try to do something stupid, like last time.’
Flic’s mouth suddenly fell open, as she realised what he was saying. ‘What if that’s why it’s still open though, Lucas?’ she said in a rush. ‘What if it never shut because Evie should have been the one to shut it? Oh my god, I hadn’t even …’
‘No,’ he said loudly, cutting her off. ‘We’re not going through all that again. I’m done believing in prophecies. We deal with the Originals and then we’ll figure out what to do about closing the way through. But I refuse to believe in fate anymore.’
How had he ever believed that fate had brought them together for a reason or a purpose? ‘Evie’s been through enough.’
‘What are you going to do, then?’ Flic asked quietly.
He shrugged, keeping his back to her. ‘I don’t know.’
‘We need your help, Lucas.’
He frowned at the door just in front of him. He heard Flic. And he would help. But first he needed to deal with something.
‘Where are you going?’ Flic asked as he took a step towards the door.
He turned his head to look over his shoulder. ‘I saw Victor at the hospital. He and I need to have a few words.’
Flic’s eyes flew to the shadow blade hanging at his waist, then to his face. ‘Words?’
‘I’ll start there.’
‘Lucas,’ her hand was suddenly on his arm. ‘He’s working with them. That’s why he was at the hospital. The rogues – they banded up with him to destroy those things. There aren’t so many Hunters left these days. They didn’t have much choice.’
He studied her. ‘You mean Evie … she’s … they’re …’ He shook his head, not understanding, not able to finish the sentence.
‘No,’ Flic said quickly. ‘It’s not like that. The others wouldn’t let her kill him. She wanted to. You know, she’s the one who found him. Evie hunted him down. She was going to kill him … We’re still going to kill him. We’re going to get revenge. Believe me,’ she said, grimacing, ‘he’s dying.’
‘Flic,’ Lucas said softly, waiting until she looked him in the eye, ‘he’s mine.’
He crossed to the door but Flic beat him to it, pushing it shut and leaning heavily against it.
‘Lucas, don’t you think maybe they have a point? Listen, I hate Victor as much as you do but what if you go and fight him and you both end up wounded? What if neither of you is able to fight anymore? What will happen to the rest of us? To Evie?’ She paused. ‘There’s something bigger than revenge to deal with right now.’ He tried to turn away but she grabbed hold of his wrist and held him there. ‘We need you, Lucas. Victor I couldn’t care less about, but he did save Evie tonight.’
‘He did what?’
‘Victor saved her. That’s what Cyrus said. He killed the Original that was feeding on her. If we’re going to fight these things, we need all the help we can get. Even if that help’s a murdering son of a bitch who deserves to die.’
Lucas prised his hand out of Flic’s grip, the ice flowing once more through his veins, chilling him to the core.
‘If he saved her,’ he said, ‘it’s because he knows about the way through being open and thinks she’s the White Light. He kept her alive for a reason, Flic.’
He watched as Flic absorbed this last bit of truth and comprehension dawned.
‘You still think we need his help?’ he asked.
Chapter 41
His mum found him sleeping in her chair, feet up on her desk.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, swiping his legs off a stash of papers. ‘Is everything OK?’
Cyrus rubbed his face, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He needed a shave, badly. What time was it? Man, it was early. He really needed more sleep.
Margaret sat a cup of coffee down on the desk in front of him. He picked it up and took a quick gulp, burning his tongue and his fingers as he set it back down on the desk.
‘That was mine,’ his mum sighed.
‘What’s yours is mine, right?’ Cyrus answered. ‘Isn’t that how the mother–son thing works? Forgive me, I’m a little hazy on the dynamics.’
He stood and stretched, feeling the ache of muscles across his shoulders from the night before. He felt stiff as a corpse. Damn. Evie. She was sleeping upstairs. Or at least he hoped she was still up there. He smarted at the memory. Last night hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Not that he’d had a plan. She’d jumped him. And, boy, could that girl kiss like the devil. In fact it was a good thing he already had amnesia because that girl could make him forget everything. He smiled despite himself; then the smile vanished from his face. Right now he could have been waking up next to her, seeing her face, not his mum’s. Pressing himself against her warm skin, holding her tight and breathing her in. He wouldn’t need a coffee if he’d woken up next to her. He struck the thought from his mind instantly, grimacing. Nothing so easy at deflating a man right at the point he needs to be most inflated than uttering another man’s name.
He’d meant what he’d said to her though. The next time Evie kissed him she’d be thinking of him. Guaranteed. Until then he’d just have to keep her guessing as to what the rest of the night might have been like if she’d only had her mind on him.
‘What are you doing here?’
He turned to his mum, trying to focus.
‘Oh my god! What happened?’ his mother suddenly squawked. Were you in a fight?’ Her hands suddenly grabbed hold of his jaw and twisted it towards the light. She started swiping at something under his chin.
He wrenched backwards out of her hands. ‘Ahh, get off, mum! It’s just dried blood.’
‘You were in a fight? With them?’ she asked, her mouth pursing. ‘What happened?’
‘Well, you were right about the
way through being open,’ Cyrus said with a sigh, leaning against the desk.
Margaret sank down into her chair. ‘You saw it?’
‘Yeah. And you were right about them guarding it as well.’
‘Oh my god, you got close to them?’
‘It’s OK. We killed four of them. That makes only seven left. We didn’t see the others though. It was a crazy fight. And we weren’t prepared.’ He frowned. That had been his fault. So much for trying to recce the place. ‘Evie got hurt badly. But she’s OK,’ he added quickly.
‘Where is she now?’ Margaret asked.
He winced. His mum wasn’t going to like the answer. ‘Sleeping,’ he said, avoiding eye contact.
‘Does Victor know?’
‘Does Victor know what?’
He noticed the distaste curling his mum’s lip. He’d told her the other day about the deal they’d struck with him – that they’d joined forces with him temporarily, before they let Evie go all Kill Bill on him.
‘Does Victor know about the way through being open?’ his mum snapped.
‘I didn’t tell him if that’s what you mean. And I’m not sure he saw it – I sent him around the front, with Ash and Vero. But I haven’t seen him or the others since …’
‘Since when?’
He cleared his throat and looked away. ‘Since last night.’
Cyrus picked a paperweight up off the desk and started playing with it. The problem was trying to keep it from Victor now. And from Evie. The secrets were piling up and somehow he had to figure out a way of protecting her and trying to gain control of the way through. Because that’s what it came down to. Ownership. Border control. At least for the moment.
He ran over the plan in his head: kill the rest of the Originals, clean up LA of all other unhumans except for Flic and Jamieson who’d proved themselves fairly useful, let Evie have her revenge on Victor, manage the way through to stop other unhumans deciding to holiday here in the future, kiss Evie again and a whole lot more besides, hear her call out his name, impregnate her. Though that last one hopefully a few years into the future.
‘Cyrus?’
He realised he was staring at the wall, zoning out, and that his mother was yelling at him.
‘Huh?’
Margaret spread out the newspaper.
‘The death toll’s rising,’ she said, stabbing her finger at the headline in the left-hand column that shrieked LA MURDER CAPITAL OF WORLD.
Cyrus didn’t notice. He was staring at the column to the right.
LATEST VICTIM DISCOVERED IN BEVERLY HILLS
He scanned the article.
LAPD officers, called to investigate gunshots reported by several residents, discovered the body of an as yet unidentified male in his late teens or early twenties. Initial reports suggest that the victim was eviscerated. However, no weapon has been found and police refuse to speculate on the apparently motiveless crime.
A witness claims to have seen several people running from the scene, which lends weight to the theory that a gang is responsible for the recent spate of homicides in the city.
Cyrus fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. He tugged it out and with a shaking hand hit his speed dial, calling Ash. Pick up. Pick up.
Five rings, six rings. On the seventh someone picked up. ‘Mmm.’
‘Ash?’
‘Mmm, what’s up? Are you at the hospital? Is Evie OK?’’
‘She’s fine. But is there something you forgot to tell me last night?’
A pause on the other end of the line.
‘RJ,’ Ash sighed. ‘He didn’t make it.’
Cyrus stared at the newspaper in front of him. ‘I know. I just read about it. Why didn’t you tell me last night?’
‘You were preoccupied. We didn’t see how it would help.’
When Cyrus didn’t say anything Ash carried on. ‘That girl, Selena, she’s all over the place, won’t stop crying. I think we lost both new recruits. Victor’s already talking about trying to find some new ones.’
‘Jesus,’ Cyrus swore. ‘What’s he thinking?’
‘I don’t know what Jesus is thinking. But Victor’s thinking we’re screwed – excuse my French – unless we have more people to fight with us.’
‘No,’ Cyrus almost shouted. ‘Those new Hunters he picks up from the street – they’re a liability, untrained, undisciplined. Evie almost died trying to protect Selena. Tell Victor from me – no more new Hunters. We’ll figure out a way to handle this on our own.’
Ash didn’t say a word.
‘Ash,’ Cyrus said, registering the silence. ‘We killed four of them last night. We can do this.’
The humming silence continued on the other end of the phone.
‘I’ll be around later, OK? We’ll figure something out then.’
‘OK,’ Ash mumbled.
When he hung up he found his mother staring at him darkly.
‘What?’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Is this a mum–son talk where you ask what I’m doing with my life and whether I’ve considered college? Because I have a sense we may have covered this ground before and that maybe I’m blocking it from my memory for a reason?’
‘Cyrus,’ she sighed sadly.
He felt bad. He must have given her some grief before. She looked exhausted. Had he caused the dark circles under her eyes and the deeply ploughed furrow between her eyebrows?
‘It’ll be fine,’ he grinned at her. But inside he could feel the twist of his guts. ‘We need to sort out these Original things before we can start tackling the Thirsters running riot out there.’ He paused. ‘Are you going to be OK here? They’re hunting Hunters. This might not be the safest place to hang out.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ his mum smiled grimly. ‘I’ve been looking after myself longer than you’ve been alive. I don’t think I’m on their radar.’
A footstep on the stairs made him spin around. He glanced sideways at his mum. She was holding a gun in her hands. He hadn’t even seen her unholster it. He put his hand over the barrel and pushed it down.
‘Whoa, mum, chillax.’
The door pushed open and Evie appeared. She looked pale still, though not as pale as last night and her cheeks flushed as soon as she saw him.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hi,’ he murmured, crossing to the door, trying to block his mum’s view of her bare legs.
When he turned back to his mum she was staring at him furiously. He pulled a face at her, then ushered Evie out into the hallway. ‘We’ve got to haul ass,’ he said to his mum over his shoulder.
His mum had switched into full-on scowl mode now, her mouth puckered into a disapproving line that aged her at least forty years.
‘Be careful,’ she shouted to his back.
He grimaced, knowing she wasn’t referring only to the Originals.
Chapter 42
‘Sorry,’ Evie mumbled as they walked down the stairs.
‘About last night or about giving my mum the wrong idea?’
Evie didn’t answer. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, smiling what he hoped was a rueful but charming smile. He wasn’t going to let on to her how pissed he actually was about last night.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
She couldn’t look him in the eye. ‘OK,’ she mumbled, ‘tired.’
He pushed open the door to the bookstore and let her pass, his gaze falling naturally to the long, bare length of her legs. Man, did she look hot in just his sweater. He wondered if she was still wearing the paper underwear or if she was going commando.
He pushed the thought away. Now was not the time. The café was starting to fill up with early morning customers. Evie darted between them, self-consciously tugging at the bottom of the sweater, trying futilely to get it to cover more than just the tops of her thighs.
‘Cyrus!’
He pulled up sharply, wincing.
‘Darcy,’ he said, turning around slowly to confront
that waitress girl from before.
She was looking at him almost as accusingly as his mother. ‘You didn’t call,’ she pouted.
Was she going to cry? Oh god. He wasn’t sure he could deal with that. ‘Yeah, um,’ he stuttered, ‘you know. I’ve been kind of busy.’
Darcy’s eyes went wide at that point. She was staring at something over his shoulder. He turned to see what she was looking at. Evie was standing by the door, waiting for him. Her hair was mussed up. Her lips were chapped and the colour of crushed rose petals. She was, of course, wearing only his sweater. She looked like she had been fully and completely ravished. Which she had. Only Darcy didn’t know it hadn’t been by him, or at least not so completely by him, but by a thousand-year-old bloodsucker. He turned slowly back to Darcy, the waitress.
‘I can see just how busy you’ve been,’ Darcy said, before he could say anything. She slapped on a fake bright smile, then spun on her heel and headed back to the cash desk.
Cyrus sighed. Was anyone going to cut him a break today? He turned back to the door. Evie smiled quickly, apologetically at him. He ignored her, and walked out onto the street to hail a cab.
‘I need to go to Flic’s. I need a change of clothes.’ Evie said as they settled inside the cab, both of them squeezed against opposing doors, the faux leather of the seats practically igniting with the tension.
She leant forward and gave the driver the address.
‘I lost my blade,’ she said when she sat back. ‘Do you know what happened to it?’
He shook his head. ‘Victor might have taken it.’
He could tell by the way Evie was staring out of the window, shooting death stares at the street, that she was pissed off. It was OK. If Victor refused to part with it, he’d make him.
After a few minutes of awkward silence she cleared her throat. ‘Have you heard from the others? Are they OK?’
Cyrus studied her, not sure whether she was ready to hear the news about RJ. She had bruise-coloured shadows under her eyes that on anyone else would have looked awful but on her only managed to accentuate the blue of her eyes. The bandage on her throat made her look more vulnerable than he knew she was. He had a sudden flashback to the night before, when his fingers had traced up her throat, had felt the silky warm skin at the base of her neck and the smooth flat of her stomach.