Chapter 59
‘Screw fate.’
Cyrus felt the sword hanging heavy in his hand. Around him were piles of chargrilled Original. And Victor. Blood was still flowing down his arm and he thought he might be swaying still. Either that or the world was spinning extremely fast.
But he barely noticed. All he saw was her. Evie. Kissing the guy who needed a hair cut.
Lucas.
He knew it was Lucas, even though he couldn’t recall seeing him before. He looked like Flic. And Evie was kissing him as if …, well, as if he was someone who she’d thought was dead but who’d just waltzed back into her life.
‘It has to be fate. Because no matter what other people throw at them they always end up back with each other.’
He turned to Issa, ready to push her backwards into a steaming pile of Original. Only the look of sadness on her face pulled him up short.
He looked back at Evie and Lucas still kissing, as if the rest of them weren’t standing there picking up the pieces and wondering what to do about Victor’s body, and felt a shard of hot metal stab him in the heart. It made the pain in his arm fade away to almost nothing.
She’d almost been his. She would have been his if Mister Shadow Warrior with the haunted expression and the cheekbones you could sharpen knives on hadn’t shown up. And Evie was falling for this? He kicked the ground.
‘You’re going to be fine.’
It was Issa. Again.
Fine? He was going to be fine? He didn’t want to feel fine. He wanted to take this raging anger that was building inside him and go and project it onto something. He wanted to tear up the streets, finding every unhuman he could and project it onto them. That might do it. Might, just maybe, make him feel less angry.
Though probably not.
It was him she should be kissing. He had been so close. She had been considering it. It would have taken a few more months maybe, but she would have been his. They would have worked on creating prophecy babies. Practising till they had it perfect.
He watched as they finally broke apart for air. Flic and Jamieson stood by them, grinning. Not that the two of them noticed. They were oblivious to anything but each other.
And Lucas was stroking her cheek, tipping up her chin. And Cyrus had to look away. He had never experienced loss before. Never, he realised. Because this hollowing out, this rage and this sadness were completely new to him. Even with his amnesia, he knew he would have recognised this feeling. He guessed that’s what love did to you. And it sucked. Love sucked balls.
‘What are you going to do?’ Issa asked.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be the one telling me that?’ he snapped.
Issa fell silent at his side.
He took a deep breath. What was he going to do now? He didn’t know. How was he supposed to let her go? Forget about her? Maybe he should jump through the gateway again and take a second round of amnesia.
He glanced to his left where Vero and Ash were locked in a tight embrace. Her arm was bandaged up with a scrap of cloth. He guessed that those two were done with all this. Vero wanted out. She deserved out. Behind them Flic had her tongue shoved half way down that Shifter’s throat. For god’s sake, what was this, junior prom?
He stared up at the white-porticoed mansion fifty or so metres behind him. Then he frowned, looking down at the sword in his hand. What was he going to do?
He turned to Issa. ‘I guess I’m going to do the only thing I know how to do,’ he said. ‘Fight these things. There’s a whole city to clean up.’
‘Well, if it makes you feel any better,’ Issa said with a sly smile, ‘I can see you living in luxury while you do it.’ She nodded her head at the house behind them.
He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. ‘This place?’
‘Mmm,’ Issa said, grinning now. ‘The owners are somewhat dead.’
He shrugged at her, turning and considering the house, checking with her that she wasn’t pulling some kind of Sybll idea of a joke. She could really see that?
‘Well, someone does need to guard the gateway until the White Light decides to be born,’ he said, admiring the three floors of windows and the turquoise glint of a pool through the trees.
‘To be born?’ Issa asked, her voice hitching in surprise.
Cyrus gave her a wry smile. ‘You really need to get your vision tested, Issa. Maybe you need glasses or something.’
She frowned at him, her clear blue eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. Then her head whipped around and she stared at Evie and Lucas, her eyes turning the colour of slushy snow. When they cleared, after just a few seconds, he could see she had seen it. Her mouth was gaping open almost as wide as her eyes. The Sybll hadn’t seen that one coming. Surprise, surprise.
So his mother had been right, then. He couldn’t wait to tell her. He could just imagine how relieved she’d be when he told her she wasn’t going to be a grandma.
‘You’re going to need help.’
He looked over his shoulder. Selena was standing there, bandana freshly tied, smears of dirt smudging her cheek, eyes ablaze, looking a little like Rambo, only less ladylike.
Cyrus rolled his eyes. This day was just getting better and better. ‘No way,’ he answered flatly.
‘Yes way, pendejo,’ Selena answered, flashing a grin at him and revealing several gold-capped teeth in the process.
With a grimace, Cyrus recognised the rush she was having – the newbie, brain-blowing high of having dealt some serious punishment to some serious unhuman ass.
‘Did you see what I did to Victor?’ Selena asked, her voice brightening. ‘I popped his ass. You want me to do the same to you?’
Cyrus ran through several answers in his head.
‘Nah,’ she cut in before he could select the best one. ‘I think you’re best off with me on your side.’ She laughed. ‘If you like, I’ll let you take a turn on the flamethrower once in a while.’
He sighed inwardly.
‘I call dibs on the master bedroom,’ she said, sashaying across the lawn towards the house.
‘Hey,’ he called to her back. ‘Just so you know, I’m the boss.’
‘Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,’ she shouted back.