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.