Shadowed (Fated) (17 page)

She had wanted more than anything to stay wrapped
up in a cocoon of hatred and anger. It made everything easier that way. But
last night, when Cyrus had put his arm around her and she’d caved in and leant
on him, for just a second she’d felt the anger lessen. It still hovered there,
like a dog waiting to pounce, but it had backed off into a corner, allowing
room for the sadness to come. And that was far worse than the anger. If anger
was rocky ground, sadness was the quicksand beneath, waiting to drag her down.
Only if she was angry could she keep going, keep moving forward.

Where was the old Cyrus when you needed to keep
your anger honed and focused? He would have managed to keep her fury levels
constant with every damn comment that came out of his mouth. But this new,
sensitive, enlightened Cyrus model was going to be her undoing. Because not
only was she losing her grip on her anger, but she was also feeling twinges of
something else, another type of feeling that she was on familiar and
uncomfortable terms with – guilt.

Guilt that she had let another guy comfort her.
Guilt that she had felt safe in his arms. Guilt because she didn’t want to feel
that way about anyone but Lucas.

So why then was she wishing that Cyrus had come
with her? Why was she thinking of him even now as she ran?

Because
Lucas is dead
, the
voice in her head screamed.
He’s dead!

But that didn’t matter. She still loved him.

But
how long can you stay in love with a dead person?
the voice in her head yelled at her.

Yes, she would always love him, but could you be
in
love with someone who was dead?

She slowed up as she got closer to the building,
coming to a stop just outside and looking up at the curtained windows. She
shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have come. But she had suddenly, desperately,
needed to see them.

When she knocked on the door she caught a fleeting
image of Lucas leaning nonchalantly against the wall, a roguish smile on his
lips. She closed her eyes and leant her fist against the wall to steady
herself.

At the sound of the lock easing back her eyes flew
open. Lucas’s sister Flic was standing in front of her, shock plastered across
her face. For a moment Evie thought she was going to slam the door shut on her,
but she didn’t. After a long beat Flic stepped aside and let her pass.

‘Who are you running from this time?’ Flic asked,
one dark eyebrow arching as she shut the door behind her.

Evie didn’t say anything. It was hard, much harder,
seeing Flic than she’d thought it would be. She looked so like Lucas with her
straight dark eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, and full, overly sensuous mouth. Even
the faint husky drawl of her voice was a reminder. She was torn between wanting
to stare at her and needing to look away.

‘I’m sorry …’ she stuttered, her hand reaching
behind her for the door handle, suddenly overcome.

She shouldn’t have just turned up out of the blue
like this. Why had she? She wasn’t even sure. It had been a stupid idea.

‘What are you sorry about this time?’ Flic snapped.
‘For waking me up in the middle of the night yet again? For turning up
unannounced? Isn’t this normally the part where you ask me for my help? That’s
the usual routine, isn’t it?’

‘No,’ Evie said, shaking her head. She didn’t need
Flic’s help. Did she? She frowned to herself. Was that in fact why she’d come?

‘I just wanted to see you,’ she mumbled, realising
how lame that sounded.

Flic studied her more closely, her arms crossed
over her chest, as though waiting for the punchline to the joke.

‘I miss him,’ Evie blurted.

Flic’s mouth opened, then quickly shut as she
swallowed down whatever she’d been about to say. ‘It’s not your fault, you
know,’ she finally said.

Evie’s head flew up. Those were the last words
she’d expected to hear from Flic. She’d expected Flic to yell, scream, fight,
hiss. To shove her against the wall and punch the living crap out of her.

And suddenly, just like that, Evie figured out why
she had come. She had wanted Flic to lash out at her. She had wanted to feel
Flic’s anger, hoping – no, praying – that it might feed her own.

‘You tried,’ Flic said softly.

‘It was my fault though,’ Evie argued. ‘I should
have let Lucas kill Victor when he had the chance. But I stopped him. It would
all have been different if I had just let him, back when we had the chance.’

Flic closed her eyes and Evie noticed the dark
circles under them for the first time. ‘Maybe. Maybe not,’ she said. ‘No one
could stop Lucas from doing what he wanted to do. That was the problem. We all
tried. We all failed. There’s just one person to blame – that murdering
son of a bitch Victor, who one day I’m going to find and I’m going to …’

‘I know where he is,’ Evie whispered.

‘What?’ Flic asked, her eyes flashing open.

‘I know where he is.’

‘Tell me that you know where he is,’ Flic answered
in a low, menacing voice, ‘because you left a marker over the shallow grave
where you dumped his body.’

Evie shook her head. ‘No.’ She clenched her jaw
shut, feeling the muscles pulse angrily.

Flic prowled towards her, her hands closing into
fists. Evie lifted her head, turning it slightly so that her cheekbone would
take the hit. ‘I am going to kill him,’ she told Flic in a hoarse voice.

‘Not unless I get there first,’ Flic hissed. ‘Where
is he? If you’re too chicken I’ll do it myself.’

Evie laughed under her breath. How many times was
she going to get called a chicken tonight? Maybe they were right though. Maybe
both Flic and that arrogant new Hunter were totally on the money. Maybe that’s
why she’d run halfway across the city in the middle of the night – to
hear Flic say it too. She was a coward. Why else hadn’t she killed Victor
already?

‘Where is he?’ Flic demanded, taking Evie by the
shoulders and shaking her so hard her head banged against the wall. ‘Tell me!’

‘You can’t kill him,’ Evie said. ‘They won’t let
you.’

‘Who won’t let me? You think I need permission?
What the hell’s stopped
you
?’

Cowardice, Evie thought. Because maybe I actually
don’t have it in me, just like Victor said.

But instead of admitting this to Flic, all she said
was: ‘There are more unhumans out there. Some Originals that got here before
the way through closed. They’re up to something. And the Thirsters are
multiplying. There are too many of them for us to handle. The others think we
need Victor if we’re going to have any chance of fighting them and winning.’
She couldn’t hold Flic’s gaze. ‘They’re working with him. To destroy them.’

Flic’s hands fell from her shoulders. ‘You’re
working with him?’ she asked in a flat voice.

Evie swallowed. She lifted her gaze briefly to meet
Flic’s. ‘I’m not. The others are. Vero and Ash. And they won’t let me kill him
until after this is done.’

Flic stared at her in disgust. Evie drank it up.
She deserved it. She wished Flic would just start laying into her with the
punches.

‘Well, I didn’t make any such deal,’ Flic said, her
mouth set in a grim line. ‘So where is he?’ she demanded again.

‘Flic, you can’t go marching in there. He’s in a
house with half a dozen Hunters. You’ll only get killed.’

Flic rounded on her, her dark hair flying like a
cape, forcing Evie to shrink back against the wall. ‘You’re forgetting what I
am,’ she said, her lip curling.

‘I’m not forgetting, Flic,’ Evie answered quietly,
‘but this guy killed Lucas. And he killed my parents and your parents.’

‘Exactly!’ Flic spat. ‘And you’re
working
with him.’

‘I’m not working with him,’ Evie protested. ‘I’m
letting him live so that he can lead us to their lair. And then I’m going to
kill him.’ Was she? Yes. This was why she’d come here – to see Flic. To
have someone twist the knife back in her gut. But just as it seemed she was
about to, Flic suddenly flopped back against the wall, her fists dangling
useless at her sides and her shoulders slumping.

‘How are you going to fight them?’ she asked.
‘These Originals? What’s the plan?’

Evie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. They’re strong.
And we don’t have many weapons. Not that weapons are any use. Only shadow
blades work against them.’

‘I’ve got a shadow blade,’ Flic said.

‘Can we have it?’ Evie asked jokingly, knowing
there was no way Flic would ever agree.

Flic ignored the question. ‘Why are you doing
this?’ she asked instead.

‘You mean, doing what I was born to do?’ Evie asked
wryly. She realised that Flic would never understand. She was part unhuman.
They were natural-born enemies. ‘Flic,’ she sighed, ‘I have no fight with you.
I have no fight with Jamieson or any Shifter. But these ones, they’re coming
after us. Tracking Hunters and trying to kill us. Ash thinks the Originals are
trying to rid themselves of any threat so that they can make this realm their
own. It makes sense.’ She paused for a second trying to gather the right words
and make a coherent sentence out of them. ‘I tried so hard to run away from it,
but I’m a Hunter. That’s who I am, and you can’t run away from who you are any
more than you can run away from fate. That’s what I learnt. You have to stand
and fight eventually.’

Flic didn’t say anything for a while but then she
spoke. ‘I’ve been hearing stories. Rumours. There are more unhumans around than
there were before the gateway shut. Or so it seems. It’s crazy.’

‘Talking of crazy, there’s something you should
know,’ Evie said.

‘What?’ Flic asked, suspicion instantly clouding
her face.

‘Cyrus is back.’

‘From the dead?’

‘Yeah.’

It took a while for Flic to absorb the news. She
blinked a few times. ‘Explain,’ she eventually said.

‘I can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know where he was.
He was found wandering naked around Bel Air or some place.’

Flic’s eyebrows shot up. ‘When?’

‘I’m not sure. They locked him up in a mental
hospital. He escaped.’

‘The drama never ends with you, does it?’ Flic
said, shaking her head.

Evie didn’t answer. They stood for another ten
seconds in silence, Evie’s back still pressed against the wall of the narrow
corridor. Suddenly Flic, who was still leaning against the opposite wall, slid
down it into a sitting position, drawing her knees to her chest.

‘I miss him too,’ she said, and Evie heard the
tremble in her voice.

She stared at Flic for a few seconds in silence,
and then she too slid down the wall and sat cross-legged on the floor facing
her.

‘I dream about him sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘It’s
like I can’t let him go. He feels so real, so alive in my dreams. Sometimes I
wish I could just stay asleep forever.’

She risked a glance up at Flic, half-expecting to
see her sneering, but she wasn’t; she was listening intensely. ‘I keep wishing
that it was him and not Cyrus that came back,’ Evie mumbled, ‘and that’s so
unfair and so wrong of me.’

‘You know,’ Flic said after a pause, ‘I hated Lucas
for choosing you over the rest of us. Hell, for choosing to die.’ She frowned
to herself as if she’d been puzzling over this for a long time. ‘But with Lucas
everything was about instinct. That’s what made him such an incredible fighter.
All the time I thought he was just being stupid and stubborn for wanting to
save you, to protect you when it was impossible, he wasn’t. He was just going
with his instincts. So how could he have been wrong?’ Flic asked.

‘He’s dead,’ Evie pointed out.

Flic winced, then shook her head hard. ‘But he
can’t have died for nothing. I don’t believe it.’

‘Well, what did he die for?’ Evie asked. From where
she was sitting, the reasons were pretty non-existent.

‘I don’t know,’ Flic answered, levelling her eyes
at Evie. ‘But I choose to believe it was for something worthwhile.’

‘Where’s Jamieson?’ Evie suddenly asked, both to
change the subject but also because she’d just become aware of the rapid
heartbeat of a Shapeshifter somewhere nearby.

‘He’s sleeping,’ Flic said, nodding towards a door
at the end of the corridor.

Evie smiled. She liked Jamieson, Flic’s boyfriend.
‘And Issa?’ she asked, more out of politeness than because she really wanted to
know. She didn’t like Issa, Lucas’s ex-girlfriend, quite as much as she liked
Jamieson.

Flic shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She disappeared about
eight weeks ago. A few days after Lucas …’ She paused, her voice wavering. ‘She
was pretty cut up about it.’

She broke off at the sound of footsteps. Evie
turned her head.

Jamieson had appeared in the doorway, rubbing sleep
out of his eyes. He was in his usual shift, his sandy-brown hair sticking up
all over the place. When he saw Evie, his face split into a wide grin.