Severed (7 page)
As they neared the entrance Evie felt her heart rate upping and beads of sweat starting to slide down her back. ‘Is this going to work?’ she asked Issa nervously.
‘So far, so good,’ Issa answered. ‘But who knows? Everything hinges on one snap decision. You stare too long at those Mixen over there then who knows which way this could turn.’
Evie swallowed and kept moving forward, head down, eyes averted. She wished she could feel Lucas, wished even more that she could see him. She tried to sense him like she had done the other night, when he’d been fighting Shula, but there were too many unhumans around and she couldn’t focus. With the suffocating panic that had a hold of her, it was all she could do to follow Issa’s orders not to stare and to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
They reached the head of the line and Flic burst her way through the crowd, planting herself in front of two doormen who were standing in front of a metal door. A stream of profanities and growls erupted from the crowd behind them.
‘Hey Jules,’ Flic drawled, completely ignoring the protesting crowd and flashing the doorman a wide smile, ‘I brought some friends. Can we skip the queue?’
Lucas waited in the shadows ready to pounce. The Thirster behind Evie was growling unpleasantly. Lucas’s fingers were clasped around the hilt of his blade. He watched the Thirster. If it made the slightest move it would find itself missing a head. And then it would find itself on fire. He was tempted to start the fight here and now. But taking it inside was the sensible thing – away from any prying human eyes – and somewhere he could contain the mess. His training from Tristan was coming back to him instinctively. He had already scanned the entire crowd on his way past, assessing who potentially posed a threat, who would run, who was armed, who would go down easily. There were no Shadow Warriors, thankfully, besides Flic. No one who could see him hidden here in the shadows.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen them up, never taking his eyes off Evie. He didn’t like it – being this far from her. It reminded him of how he’d felt standing on the bank of the pond watching her dive down into the darkness – that stomach-curling sensation of having her just out of reach, the freezing fear that he might not be able to reach her in time. From over here in the shadows he could barely scent her, her heartbeat was just a rapid whisper, an undercurrent to all the other noises he was picking up – the shrieks of the Mixen further back in the crowd discussing the downfalls of getting intimate with the male of the species, and a couple of Scorpio talking in hushed voices about which realm was best for scoring drugs. Some young Shapeshifters near the front of the line were still talking about him. Apparently the rumour had it he had slaughtered a whole army of Thirsters, drunk the blood of the Scorpio whose tail he’d chopped off and had made into a belt, and was now off enjoying a romantic honeymoon with the Hunter he’d rescued.
He laughed under his breath, imagining what Evie would say if she could hear. No doubt she’d ask to see the Scorpio-skin belt. She was looking around nervously now. From the way her eyes kept skirting over the alley he guessed that she was trying to sense him, but her eyes flew right by him. Issa had stepped between her and the Thirsters and was shielding her partly from sight. He stared at Issa’s blonde head, half masking Evie’s darker one, and another wave of unease washed over him. What if Issa had been right about the army? What if she wasn’t trying to scare him?
He didn’t have time to think about it, however. Whatever Flic had said had worked. The doorman was standing aside to let her and the others into the club. Lucas readied himself, waiting for Jamieson’s signal. As soon as he saw it, he moved, crossing the alley unseen and ducking beneath Jamieson’s arm as he held the door open wide for Evie and Issa.
He moved fast down the corridor, the neon lights affording no cover. He would be a dark blur, a shadow flickering against the wall. The girls sitting by the cloakroom were busy though. Their heads were bent and they were giggling over something. They didn’t look up as he flew past and slipped behind some Shapeshifters, following them through a heavy fire escape door and into the club.
He found himself on a concrete landing, at the top of some stairs. There were at least five hundred unhumans beneath him, all lit ghoulishly by strobe lighting. He scanned the crowd, his eyes lighting on a group of Thirsters hanging around the edge of the dance floor. They were slightly anaemic looking, clearly on the prowl, even though it was forbidden. A group of young Shapeshifters, barely old enough to shift, were dancing right next to them, totally oblivious to the fact they were being eyed up like dancing entrées.
Lucas spotted the leader of the Thirsters easily – a skinny boy in his early twenties with auburn hair, wearing a dirty white tank top. The saliva was dripping from his fangs. He’d do, Lucas thought to himself, already at the top of the stairs. One fewer Thirster in this world. Not exactly a tragedy. The Shapeshifter kids would live to shift another day.
Lucas was down the stairs and moving swiftly through the crowded dance floor towards the Thirsters before he noticed the projection on the wall. A wildly dancing Shapeshifter bumped into his shoulder and lurched with a confused yelp backwards, unable to figure out what the invisible obstacle in his way was, but Lucas kept standing there unmoving, staring at the wall.
Staring at himself.
They started walking down a narrow corridor towards another door at the far end. Evie could hear the thump of loud music and the tribal drum beats of what sounded like a thousand unhumans stampeding just the other side of it. The sweat was turning to ice against her spine. A blast of wind whipped past her, making her shiver. She kept walking, Issa ushering her forwards. Just before the door there was a cloakroom. Two girls were sitting outside, heads bent over an iPad.
‘He’s so freaking hot,’ one said, grasping the screen and pulling it closer. ‘I really hope they don’t kill him. Maybe they could just banish him. Hell, I’d take banishment, even to the Thirster realms, if I got to stare at him all day long.’
Evie peered over Jamieson’s shoulder trying to see who they were talking about, but Issa pulled her back out of sight, frowning hard at her.
‘Oh hey, Flic!’ the other cloakroom girl said, glancing up and noticing them. ‘Watch out tonight, there’s like totally loads of Scorpio deviants wandering around looking for some action. Jules keeps letting them in.’
‘Thanks for the tails up,’ Flic said, moving swiftly past them. ‘Think I can handle a Scorpio.’
‘Flic, no fighting!’ the girl called after her. ‘You know the rules.’
‘Hey, Jamieson, looking hot, I like the shift,’ the other shouted.
‘Brad Pitt – if only it was actually him,’ the other girl sighed.
‘Hey, how do you know I’m not the real Brad Pitt?’ Jamieson asked, laughing.
‘As if Flic could land Brad Pitt,’ the first girl said, snorting through her nose.
Issa was already pushing her way through the door, so Flic’s answer was muted by the noise that boomed out. As she followed after them, Evie glanced down at the iPad the two girls were looking at and felt her heart smash into the roof of her mouth. She had guessed right. They were looking at pictures of Lucas. Even upside down there was no mistaking those sullen grey eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones. A hand on her arm alerted her to the fact she had stopped walking and was staring dumbly, her mouth hanging open. Issa yanked her through the door before the two girls on cloakroom duty could notice.
‘Did you see that?’ Evie gasped. ‘They were looking at pictures of Lucas. Why were there photographs of Lucas on Face …’ She stopped mid-sentence, her words evaporating instantly into the whirl of noise and flashing lights that assaulted her. Before them was an enormous concrete shell of a room. Strobe lights strung from the ceiling were flashing pink, red and green over the pulsating crowd below. The entire floor space looked like a heaving sea of hurricane debris – green gyrating bodies forming a mass in the centre around which a five-metre radius of empty dance floor had opened up.
Running along one wall, with a crowd three deep pushing against it, was a makeshift bar. The bar staff behind were shimmering like heat mirages as they flipped bottles and slapped drinks and change down onto the counter.
Evie scanned the crowd immediately below her, spotting three or four famous faces, whether Shapeshifters or the real thing she couldn’t tell. Over in one corner was a small group of pale-looking kids. They were noticeable because they were the only people not moving in the entire place – they were just standing there rigid, dressed in an assortment of questionable clothing. Only their eyes were moving, roving across the crowd as if searching for something. Or someone? Evie could make out the pinprick irises of the girl closest to her and then the flicker as a tongue darted out and licked a pointed incisor. She gripped Issa’s hand. ‘What are they doing in here?’
Issa followed her gaze. ‘Thirsters are allowed in too. So long as they abide by the rules.’
‘The rules?’
‘Yes. No eating on the dance floor. Or anywhere else for that matter.’
‘But they look like big cats eying up the impalas at the watering hole.’
‘They won’t dare,’ Issa said, nodding up at the ceiling. Evie glanced upwards. Hanging from the beams above them were rows of industrial-sized stage lights.
‘UV?’ Evie asked.
‘Yes,’ Issa nodded. ‘For emergencies. The way things are playing out I think they’re going to be used tonight.’
‘Where’s Lucas?’ Evie asked. She scanned the crowd again trying to see him or sense him, but with the flashing lights and all the unhumans it was impossible to feel anything other than the icy drip of terror coagulating in her veins.
‘He’s down there somewhere,’ Issa answered. ‘It’s OK,’ she added. ‘In about two minutes Flic’s going to start a fight with that boy over there.’ She jerked her chin in the direction of the Thirsters on the edge of the dance floor. ‘And Lucas is going to end it.’
Evie turned her head. Issa was pointing at a wiry boy with auburn hair and a pointy chin, dressed in a grubby tank top and skinny leather trousers. All of a sudden Evie’s attention was caught by something else, something far more alarming than the group of Thirsters below them. ‘Oh my God!’ she cried out.
Flic, who was standing on her other side, whipped around, her mouth twisted in a snarl.
‘I’m on the wall,’ Evie said, pointing with a trembling hand to the wall behind Flic.
‘Jesus!’ Flic swore as she spun back around and looked in the direction Evie was pointing. ‘I told Lucas we shouldn’t bring her here!’
‘Why am I on the wall?’ Evie asked, trying not to panic at the sight of her face projected ten metres high onto the warehouse wall.
As she watched, the image dissolved in a cheap slideshow effect of snowflakes and, pixel by pixel, a brand new image formed over the top. This time Lucas was staring out at them, his face twenty metres wide, his dark-grey eyes seeming to burn a hole right through her. Evie registered in some recess of her mind that several people had started whooping on the dance floor below. The image of Lucas fuzzed out and dancing psychedelic swirling hearts appeared in its place. At the same time the thumping house track that had been playing scratched to a stop and a new track started up – a souped-up version of a Celine Dion song. The dance floor went wild. Evie shut her eyes and tried to wake up. When she opened them she saw the psychedelic hearts were no longer swirling. Now they were bleeding, raining great crimson drops, which together with the red strobe effect that had ramped up to full throttle, created the sensation that the entire warehouse was filling up with blood.
‘Jamieson, get her out of here!’ Flic shouted over the music and the whoops.
‘No, I’m not leaving,’ Evie answered, pulling her arm out of Issa’s grip.
Flic was suddenly right there, in her face, her violet eyes flashing. ‘Do not think,’ she hissed, ‘that because your photograph is on the wall in high-definition glory surrounded by love hearts you are welcome here. Though those imbecile Shifters down there might think it’s the most romantic thing since Edward Cullen impregnated Bella Swan do not be fooled into thinking you are safe. You are walking meat. You are the impala. In fact, you are a lame impala, dripping blood. And if they scent you, they will each and every one of them – Thirster, Mixen, Scorpio, Shadow Warrior, Shifter – take you down. Do you understand?’
Evie swallowed and nodded.
‘Jamieson,’ Flic said, not taking her eyes off of Evie, ‘take her and leave. Now please.’
‘Take her out the back way, Jamieson,’ Issa cut in. ‘There’s a crowd of Mixen about to come through that door up here – in thirty-eight seconds from now to be precise. You take her that way and Evie gets recognised.’ She paused, shooting a nervous glance at him. ‘It doesn’t end so well for you. If you go out the back, you’ll be fine.’ She smiled at them reassuringly as they headed for the stairs. ‘Just remember to duck!’ she called to their backs.
He was dissolving into a sea of bleeding hearts while a song about love lasting a lifetime played in the background. And now Evie had appeared on top of him, thirty metres high. It was the same photograph that Tristan had given to the members of the Brotherhood, right before he’d ordered them to kill her.
Lucas turned quickly back towards the stairs to head Evie and the others off before they got inside. If Evie walked in here she’d be recognised in seconds. Why the hell hadn’t Issa seen this? It wasn’t exactly hard to miss. Damn the Sybll and their faulty, inexact visions. He wove through the crowd, his eyes on the door, willing Evie not to walk through it, but it was already too late. She was standing at the top of the stairs, staring open-mouthed at the photograph of herself projected onto the wall. He watched her grab Issa’s arm and point, and then saw Flic spin around and bark an order at Jamieson.
