Shadowed (Fated) (12 page)

Cyrus turned towards her, his turquoise eyes
piercing her as hard as any arrow. She felt herself squirm some more under his
scrutiny.

‘And I closed the way through? How?’ he asked.

There was a heavy silence.

‘You walked through it,’ Vero eventually said.

‘Did I know what was going to happen to me? Did I
know I was going to end up …’ he hesitated, ‘like this?’

‘No,’ Vero said. ‘You thought you were going to
die. That’s what we all thought the prophecy meant. That’s what we were told.
That the White Light would die closing the way through.’

Cyrus’s expression turned to one of stunned
amazement and then a soft smile crept across his face as if he was secretly
kind of impressed with himself.

‘It said something about memories fading,’ Evie
suddenly said. ‘The prophecy.’ She shook her head, trying to remember the exact
words. ‘And shadows falling.’ She couldn’t stop the catch in her voice.

Silence descended. She could feel the others
watching her. She looked up. Cyrus was studying her intently.

‘I was supposed to be the one to walk through,’ she
told him, lifting her chin, ‘but you stopped me. Right at the last moment. You
pushed me out of the way.’ She avoided telling him the part about the kiss.

Confusion rode in waves over his face. The question
in his eyes was one she didn’t know the answer to either. Why had he done that?

She shrugged silently and looked away.

They let Cyrus sleep. It seemed the drugs were
still loaded in his system. Hopefully, when they cleared out, some of his
memory might return and he might be able to remember more.

Evie was huddled on the sofa with Ash and Vero,
talking softly in the half-light of dawn so that they wouldn’t wake him.

‘He seems different somehow,’ Vero said in a low
voice.

‘He’s drugged to the eyeballs.’

‘No, I mean, there’s something different besides
that. It’s like someone else is wearing his skin.’

‘No, it’s him,’ Evie said firmly. She’d seen the
glimmer of the old Cyrus not just in the underlying swagger as he walked, but
in the way he’d reacted so fast when he killed the Mixen. And in the smile that
sometimes tugged at the corner of his mouth as if he was laughing at a private
joke.

‘He’s just lost his memory, that’s all,’ Ash said.

‘Do you think he can still fight? Will he remember
how?’

‘Did you see him kill that Mixen?’ Evie asked.
‘He’s not forgotten how to fight. And his instincts brought him right back
there. To the Bradbury building.’

‘We have to take him to Margaret first thing in the
morning,’ Vero said.

‘Shame she wasn’t answering her phone,’ Ash
grinned. ‘That’s going to be one joyful reunion.’

Evie’s fingers dug into the spaces between her
ribs. She winced at herself. First she’d been jealous of what Ash and Vero had,
and now she was jealous of Margaret being reunited with Cyrus. It was wrong to
resent any of that. But she couldn’t help it. When she’d seen the long scar
running up Cyrus’s back the wind had been knocked out of her, and when Cyrus
had turned to face her, joy had blasted through her – a joy that she
hadn’t felt in months. But then the happiness had been pricked by a needling
disappointment that had slowly drained away the joy.

Disappointment that it was Cyrus and not Lucas.

She hated herself for feeling it, even more for
admitting it, but it was true. Why couldn’t it have been Lucas to come back
from the dead? To find her against the odds, like that?

‘Evie? What do you think?’

She tuned back in. Vero was looking at her
expectantly.

‘About what?’ she asked.

‘Why didn’t Cyrus die? Didn’t the prophecy say the
White Light had to die?’

‘Yeah,’ she shrugged. ‘I mean, it said something
about sacrificing everything, I’m not sure how else you can read that.’

‘Well, he did sacrifice himself. It didn’t actual
mention the word
dying
,’ Ash added.
‘Maybe we just all misunderstood what it really meant.’

‘What if Cyrus isn’t the White Light after all?’
Ash suddenly asked.

Evie felt her stomach squeeze into a fist-sized
ball as she remembered the Mixen on the street who’d recognised her, called her
the White Light and then run off.

There was a moment’s awful silence and then Vero
looked at Evie, understanding and horror dawning on her face simultaneously.

‘But wouldn’t that mean the way through is still
open?’ she asked.

They were standing, all four of them, on the sidewalk where the night
before the Thirsters had gone up in flames. The scorch marks on the ground were
still evident.

Across the road teams of workmen in hard hats were
walking in and out of the Bradbury building, carrying ladders and buckets. The
fact that the workmen were coming and going and the place had no security
around it pretty much told them the gateway wasn’t open. If it were open, then
there would be a media circus surrounding the building, or men in dark suits
with ear pieces standing around trying to look inconspicuous in a Roswell type
of way. Still, they were here now, so they ought to check.

‘How are we going to get inside?’ Vero asked.

‘Time-honoured diversion tactics?’ Ash suggested.
‘I don’t mind doing the honours but what if it is still open? Wouldn’t it be
better if all of us went in?’

‘We can’t exactly breeze in there with arrows and
swords,’ Evie pointed out. ‘It’s broad daylight.’

‘There can’t be anyone in there – unhumans, I
mean. I’m not feeling anything. Are you?’ Vero asked.

They all shook their heads. Cyrus looked puzzled as
he studied the outside of the building.

‘So it’s probably safe for three of us to go in and
take a look – check that it is actually shut while one of us stays
outside and creates a diversion, and acts as a lookout. Agreed?’

They all nodded.

‘OK, then,’ said Ash. ‘Good luck!’ And with that,
he strolled off towards the entrance. As he approached the first of the
workmen’s vans parked just outside he spun and kicked the side of it with the
heel of his shoe. An alarm started shrieking. Ash kept walking, doing the same
to the second van and then to the two cars parked behind.

‘Come on,’ Vero said, pulling Evie by the hand
across the street as a dozen workmen came dashing out of the building. Everyone
on the street was standing and staring at the blaring vans and cars. Ash
meanwhile had vanished.

The three of them raced up the steps and into the
cool atrium of the building, jumping over sacks of concrete mix and leaping
over the power cords trailing across the floor. Evie shivered despite the
sunlight streaming through the tall glass ceiling, remembering the last time
they’d been there.

‘Let’s just hurry up,’ she said, running towards
the curving staircase that led down into the basement, avoiding even looking in
the direction of the elevators where the bodies of the cops had been found.

Cyrus was hot on her heels. She could feel him
breathing down her neck. If the gateway was open then did that mean it was her
after all? No. She stopped herself from even thinking it, concentrating instead
on not losing her footing as she skidded off the bottom step.

They hit the basement room where they’d fought off
a group of Thirsters, a Mixen and a Scorpio. And there straight ahead of them
lay the gap in the wall where once a doorway had stood shielding the gateway
from public view.

‘You did that,’ Evie told Cyrus, pointing.

He appraised his handiwork as they stepped through.

‘Grenade?’ he asked, admiring the twisted metal
remains of the door.

‘Kind of,’ she answered, thinking of the Mixen he’d
propped against the door and then blown up.

She was holding her breath, she realised. But there
was no need to worry. Just as she’d thought, the way through was shut. There
was no streaming wall of light. There was only a brick wall standing in front
of them.

‘That’s where it was,’ Vero said to Cyrus,
pointing. ‘That’s the last place we saw you.’

They stared at the wall. Then Cyrus walked over,
placed his hands flat against it and pushed.

‘It wasn’t like a door,’ Vero added, seeing the
confusion on his face. ‘It was like a really bright light.’

Cyrus stepped back. ‘Well, I’d say it was closed,
right?’ he asked with a half-smile.

Evie smiled back, relief making her feel
light-headed. ‘Yeah, I’d say so.’

They walked back up the stairs into the atrium, all
of them grinning with relief.

‘Hey!’ someone yelled.

Evie froze. A man in a hard hat was marching
towards them. ‘What the hell are you doing in here?’ he demanded, his moustache
bristling. ‘This is a construction site. Get the hell out!’

‘
No hablo
Inglés
,’ Cyrus said, stepping quickly in front of Evie. ‘
Estamos turistas. Estamos perdidas
.’

He took Evie by the hand and they made a run for it
towards the door, Vero sprinting behind them. The man was still yelling after
them as they ducked down the steps and ran across the street towards Ash.

‘So?’ he asked, coming to meet them.

‘Closed,’ Vero answered, throwing her arms around
his neck.

A rare smile cracked on Ash’s face.

‘What was that? Spanish? How do you speak Spanish?’
Evie asked Cyrus, letting her hand slide from his.

‘I don’t know,’ Cyrus shrugged, his gaze dropping
to her hand for an instant. ‘Guess I’m just a linguistic genius.’

Evie arched an eyebrow and bit back a smile. The
old Cyrus was making a comeback. She wasn’t sure she wanted to encourage it
though.

‘Oh. My. God.’

Evie should have prepared herself. Should have
prepared Cyrus for this.

The waitress Darcy – the tall, skinny one
with the braids – was standing in the middle of the café, with a heavily
laden tray balanced precariously on one hand, staring at Cyrus as if, well, as
if he was Lazarus risen from the dead.

‘Cyrus!’ the waitress screeched, launching herself
towards them, the coffee on her tray splashing all over the floor and a
customer’s lap.

‘Do I know her?’ Cyrus murmured under his breath.

‘Yes,’ Evie said.

‘What’s her name?’ Cyrus asked, masking the
question behind a cough.

‘Darcy. But don’t worry, you never remembered it
anyway.’

‘Oh my god, you’re alive! You’re alive!’ Darcy
said, dropping her tray on the nearest table and throwing herself on Cyrus.

Evie glanced around at the customers who were all
now staring at them.

‘Your mother said that you’d been in an accident,’
Darcy spluttered.

Evie stepped quickly between them, breaking Darcy’s
grip on Cyrus. ‘Yeah, well, it was all a mistake. He’s actually alive as you
can see,’ she said.

Darcy looked between them, the cogs turning slowly,
ever so slowly. ‘Does she know?’ she suddenly gasped. ‘Your mum? Oh my god, you
so have to tell her!’

Vero rolled her eyes
.
‘Good idea, we hadn’t thought of that.’

Darcy frowned at her, and Evie took the opportunity
to tug Cyrus towards the door at the back of the store.

‘So, um, do you like, maybe want to get together
later?’ Darcy shouted after them.

Cyrus stopped and turned to the girl. He looked
awkward, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say, ‘Er, he began,
shooting a nervous, pleading glance Evie’s way.

Evie shrugged as nonchalantly as possible.

‘Maybe?’ Cyrus said. ‘I’ll call you? I have your
number, right?’

‘Yeah, like I messaged you maybe a thousand times.’

‘Great,’ Cyrus said through a fixed grin. ‘Speak to
you later then.’

He turned back to Evie. ‘Did I date her?’ he asked
under his breath.

‘If you want to call it that,’ Evie answered,
holding the door to the stairwell open for him.

They climbed the stairs and knocked. And waited. It
was the same as the day before. They heard a slow, shuffling gait on the other
side. The door cracked open an inch and Margaret’s tired face appeared in the
gap. She stared at them vacantly, her eyes passing over Cyrus and fixing on
Evie before she did a double take and tracked back to Cyrus. Her jaw dropped
and the door fell open.

‘Mum?’ Cyrus asked, cutting his eyes in Evie’s
direction to check that this was indeed his mother.

Evie nodded. Margaret gaped at Cyrus, her bottom
lip trembling. She looked like she was on the verge of collapsing and Evie
inched forward just in case she needed to catch her.

‘Mum,’ Cyrus said again, taking a step towards her,
‘it’s me.’