Shadowed (Fated)

Chapter 48



‘We should all have guns.’

Evie stared around at the almost deserted space they were gathered in. It was a wide, open-air terrace with fountains, surrounded on all sides by futuristic-looking white buildings that apparently housed a world-famous art collection. Not that they’d checked out any of the art.

Close by, a toddler was shrieking and running in and out of a fountain while its mother sat on a nearby bench, smiling and cooing, as if this wasn’t a city where the murder rate was topping over forty people a day and where sightings of creatures with tails and green skin weren’t all over the news.

Here in this world, looking out over the smog-choked city, people wandered as if in happy exile, arm in arm, enjoying the warm October sunshine, laughing and joking, taking photos of the view, posing by the fountain, stopping occasionally to check their guide books before heading off to see more art.

Evie edged into the sunlight and glanced over at the table where the others were sitting. Vero had been to the bathroom and rinsed her face and hair and was wearing Ash’s jacket over her dress to hide the worst of the bloodstains. Issa was beside Cyrus, and the two of them were locked in close conversation. He was wearing a T-shirt they’d bought him in the gift shop. It had a Klimt print of two people kissing on the front, though Cyrus had taken one look at it and turned it inside out, protesting at its girliness. Blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage and stained the arm of it. That needed seeing to. Cyrus hadn’t said anything but she could tell by the tension around his eyes that he was in pain.

‘I repeat, cabron, we should all have guns.’

It was Selena talking. Since the fight her feistiness and aggressive tendencies had trebled.

‘Guns are no use for fighting in close combat,’ Victor answered her. ‘You’d probably shoot one of us by accident.’

Selena scowled at him.

‘Guns won’t work on Thirsters or Originals either,’ Ash added quietly, picking at the remains of a sandwich.

‘Well, what are we going to do?’

Evie marched over. ‘We’re going to get Cyrus to the hospital and get his wound stitched up before we do anything.’

‘It can wait,’ Cyrus said quickly.

‘That’s not what Issa says.’

‘OK, boss,’ he said, squinting at her through the bright sunlight, ‘but first we need to strategise.’

Evie sighed, and looked over at Flic, sitting apart from the others on a neighbouring table. Her feet were up on the chair in front and she was resting her elbows on her knees. She hadn’t said a word since they’d got there. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Victor either. She’d just sat there, her eyes glittering, fixing him with a predator stare.

‘We retaliate before nightfall,’ Evie said.

‘How?’ Vero asked. ‘You’re not up to full strength. Cyrus is wounded. We’re all tired. How are we going to fight more of these things?’

‘Why do they want to protect this thing so much anyway?’ Selena asked. ‘This way through thing you keep talking about? What is it anyway? A door? Where does it lead?’

‘Shhh!’ Cyrus yelled, trying to drown her out.

It was too late though. Evie had already heard. ‘What?’ she asked, hearing the tremor in her voice.

No one looked at her. Instead everyone seemed to be sharing an oh shit moment. Even Flic had taken her eyes off Victor and was biting her bottom lip.

‘What is she talking about?’ Evie stammered. ‘The way through? What about it?’

‘It’s open.’

Evie glanced at Victor. ‘What do you mean, it’s open?’ she asked. ‘How can it be open? We checked. We went to the Bradbury. It’s shut.’

‘No,’ said Cyrus, eyeing her warily as he took a careful step towards her. ‘It reopened. That’s what they’re guarding.’

The world tipped and spun beneath Evie’s feet. Thunder filled her ears and her heart bounded into her mouth making her want to gag.

She looked around the group for some kind of sign that Cyrus was joking. Ash and Vero glanced at her guiltily before quickly looking away. Flic was staring at the ground. Selena was looking to Victor, who was shrugging at her. Cyrus was the only one who met her gaze unflinching.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? You all knew? And you didn’t say anything? Even you, Flic?’

Flic bowed her head. ‘I was asked not to tell you.’

‘Evie, we didn’t want to worry you until we were certain.’

Her mouth fell open but no words would come out. It was open. How was it still open?

Cyrus grabbed her suddenly by the arm and hauled her away from the others.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said once they were out of earshot. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but I wasn’t sure what you would do if you knew. I know last time you got it into your head to try to close it.’

The world slung itself to a grinding halt. Evie swayed on her feet. It felt like she was teetering on the edge of a bottomless abyss. Oh god. What did it mean? Why was it still open? She shook her head, a laugh bubbling on her lips. She remembered the Mixen outside the Bradbury who’d called her the White Light and then run off.

She looked up at Cyrus, everything falling into place with dizzying clarity. ‘It’s me, isn’t it? It’s me. That’s why it’s still open. You tried to shut it and it didn’t work. Which must mean I’m still the White Light. Goddamn it.’

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream.

‘Evie,’ Cyrus said calmly, resting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him, ‘you are not the White Light. Do you hear me?’

He shook her, and with a start Evie realised that he was afraid. His voice gave him away, as did the force of his fingers, squeezing her arms.

‘I mean it, Evie. It’s not you. I swear to you. And if you get any idea into your head to try and close the way through I’m going to kick your ass. You gotta swear to me on Lucas’s memory, or your mum’s life, on whatever is sacred to you, you gotta swear you won’t get it into your head to be a hero. Because it won’t close. You’ll only end up walking around naked in Malibu or somewhere without a clue how you got there.’ He paused, smiled. ‘Not that I’d complain. About the naked part at least.’

Evie stared at him, trying to take it all in. He’d tried telling her before that she wasn’t the White Light. But what did he know that she didn’t? How could he be so sure?

She closed her eyes so that she wouldn’t have to see the expression on his face, the fear, the hope, the doubt all waging war there. What if he was lying to her because he simply didn’t want it to be true?

‘How do you know for sure that it isn’t me?’ she finally asked.

He drew in a long, unsteady breath. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked.

She opened her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes.’ Because the truth was, she did. Somewhere along the way Cyrus had gone from being a really annoying Hunter who was far too full of himself to being someone she would trust with her life.

‘Really?’ he asked, looking surprised.

She nodded again. ‘Yes, I trust you.’

‘So, trust me,’ he said, his voice softer, tender as a kiss, ‘when I tell you that it’s not you. It was never you. Nor me.’

‘Well, who is it then?’ she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. ‘And how do you know all this all of a sudden?’

He took another deep breath. ‘Would you believe me if I told you my mum seems to be quite the expert on Hunter lore?’

She considered it for a moment. ‘Yeah, I would. She has all those books. She told me once she was doing research on us.’

‘Well, she figured out the prophecy.’

Evie blinked a few times in amazement. ‘Well, if it’s not me, who is it then?’

Cyrus chewed his bottom lip for a few seconds before speaking. ‘She didn’t say who it was, just that it’s definitely neither of us.’ He dropped his gaze to the floor and started fidgeting. ‘They probably haven’t even been born yet.’

Evie frowned at him. If they hadn’t even been born yet then how the hell were they ever going to end this war? Even though she trusted him, what if Margaret was wrong? She’d been wrong before, after all.

‘Evie,’ Cyrus said quietly, his hands slipping behind her neck, forcing her head up so that she was looking him in the eye. ‘I swear it to you. On my life. On everything I hold dear.’ He paused. ‘I swear it on your life. It isn’t you.’

The amber in his eye glinted. Something surged electric and alive inside her as he held her. She wanted to live, she realised. She wanted it with a desire and a desperation she had thought she’d lost. Lucas might not be there with her but that didn’t mean she had to stop living. She owed it to him to live enough for the both of them. It was time to stop holding onto memories and start living again.

‘OK,’ she murmured after a long beat. ‘I believe you.’





Cyrus led her back over to the others who were all sitting in stony silence.

‘OK, let’s talk tactics,’ he said, staring straight at Victor. ‘Firstly, no one’s getting it into their head to try to shut the way through. Are we clear?’

Victor grunted non-committally, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Evie narrowed her eyes at him. She wasn’t totally sure she was buying what Cyrus was selling – she still needed more time to think it all through. But the sight of Victor eyeing her like a crocodile, with unblinking reptilian eyes, only made her dig her heels in. No way was she going to let this man decide her fate.

‘How are we going to fight them?’ asked Vero. ‘We don’t have enough blades. We’ve got three at the last count. So only three of us can actually land any sort of killing blow.’

‘You’re the Sybll,’ Cyrus said, turning to Issa. ‘Can’t you tell us how to win? Isn’t that what you people do? Predict things?’

Issa looked around the group and shrugged feebly. ‘I can’t help you on this one. The Originals are almost impossible to read in terms of precognition. They move too fast, think too fast, act too fast. They’re entirely unpredictable. I can’t see what will happen. There are seven of them.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s impossible to know.’

‘Fire works,’ Evie suggested.

‘But they’re fast,’ Cyrus sighed. ‘We can’t just aim a flamethrower at them. They’re not going to stand still and allow us to flame grill them to barbecued perfection.’

‘We need to draw them out,’ Selena interrupted. ‘Get them all in one place, focused on one thing.’

‘What though?’ Cyrus snapped. ‘A big juicy steak? A bleeding cow? Five bare-throated virgins? And we don’t have the weapons to kill them even if we could draw them out,’ he muttered.

‘He’s right,’ Vero said. ‘We need more weapons. We don’t have any sort of plan until we find ourselves some more weapons. Ones that actually work against them.’

‘Yeah, well,’ said Cyrus, ‘the only way of getting more weapons is by sending a delegation to the Shadowlands and begging some friendly Shadow Warriors to lend us their blades.’

Vero gave him a dark look. ‘Sarcasm is not helping right now, Cyrus.’

They stared at one another in silence. Even Victor wasn’t saying a word. He was just studying her in a way that made goosebumps ride unpleasantly up her spine.

Suddenly Issa cleared her throat. ‘I think I might know where we can find some more shadow blades,’ she said quietly, glancing in Flic’s direction.





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