Shadowed (Fated) (28 page)

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.

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.

‘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.