Evie pressed herself closer against Lucas's side, her hip rubbing comfortingly against the hilt of his blade. She was distracted. In her mind she was still playing over the phone call she'd just had with her mother. It had contained a lot of disappointeds, a dozen what about schools? And had finished up with a cheek-flayingly cringetastic Please, dear Lord, don't come back pregnant.
Evie sneaked a glance at Lucas. He was walking fast, his arm tight around her, his eyes focused on the street ahead. She mentally added pregnancy to the list of things they were trying to avoid, along with being killed by demons. Her mother would be better off praying to the Lord for her to come back alive – never mind the pregnant part. And besides, it wasn't as if she and Lucas had actually done anything beyond kissing anyway. The only time they'd even properly kissed had been in the basement of her house, just after Lucas had killed Caleb. Now that the whole world seemed to be after them, trying to kill them, kissing seemed like frivolous behaviour. Having said that, now she was thinking about it, remembering what his lips had tasted like, what his hands had felt like against her skin, and what Lucas had looked like without his shirt on, maybe it wasn't so frivolous after all. Maybe kissing was exactly what they should be doing right now, rather than going out to start a fight with some unhumans. But from the looks of it, Lucas wasn't contemplating frivolity. Judging by the expression on his face and the tension running in taut lines across his shoulders, it looked as if he was contemplating a fight.
Every slight tensing of a muscle in Lucas's body she felt too, as if transmitted to her by electric current, and every step was making her feel more and more jittery, as if she was being charged with static and at any moment lightning was going to strike through the top of her skull. Sensing her unease, Lucas slowed his pace and pulled her closer, his fingers curling around the nape of her neck. A vague memory jostled in her mind of the last time she'd felt the pressure of his fingers on her neck. That time he'd done something to her that had made her black out. This time though he laid off on the Vulcan death grip, instead brushing the tip of her wounded ear with his lips. Her whole body shuddered in response and she stumbled against his side.
Flic had lent her – well, thrown at her – a pair of black high heels which she was finding it hard to walk in. Together with the pair of borrowed black jeans, which were restricting her circulation, and the spaghetti-strapped black camisole top she was wearing, she felt as if she had left the house half-dressed, late for a dancing session with a pole.
Another shudder suddenly rose up her spine, goosebumps chasing their way down her arms. It felt as if a million icicles were crystallising rapidly against her skin. She inhaled sharply. She knew it wasn't the cold that was making her shake as if she had hypothermia, or Lucas's arm around her. She was sensing what felt like thousands of unhumans close by. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to keep walking straight with her head held high. There was no way she was going to give Flic the pleasure of seeing her freak out.
Lucas sensed her fear. ‘Nothing's going to happen to you, remember,' he murmured softly, his lips brushing the top of her head.
She nodded absently. Didn't he know already? It wasn't herself she was worried about.
‘I have to disappear,' Lucas suddenly said, giving her waist a squeeze before letting go.
Evie turned to him, frantically grasping for his arm, but he had already vanished. She stopped in her tracks, shivering, staring in disbelief at the space beside her where he'd been just a moment before.
‘Keep walking,' she heard him whisper suddenly in her ear. ‘I'll just be a few steps away. I need to stay in the shadows.'
She took a faltering step forward, rounding the corner and almost stumbling to a halt when she saw the mass of unhumans before her. A line stretched out ahead of them that was so long it continued all the way around the block. They were in what looked like a film studio's back lot. Warehouses lined the street and stretched in every direction. The one before them had a metal fire escape criss-crossing it like an exoskeleton. A thin, uneven alleyway, like a knobbly spinal cord, ran between two squat-looking buildings and it was down this alley that the line snaked.
Evie darted what she hoped was a casual glance sideways. They were passing a screeching group of unhumans dressed in shimmering neon. Just as they drew parallel, one threw back her head and cackled loudly, exposing her face to the dim orange street light above her. The girl's skin was a pale shade of green. Evie eyed the others – also green. But even if Evie had been colour blind the halo of bare tarmac around them was signal enough that they were Mixen demons.
Flic strode on past them without a second glance and headed straight towards the front of the line. Evie froze uncertainly on the sidewalk.
Issa was beside her in the next moment, slipping her arm casually though her own. ‘Don't just stand there. Walk!' she hissed, dragging Evie forward while simultaneously raising her arm and waving at someone in the line.
Evie clutched at Issa's arm. ‘Was that the Olsen twins?' she whispered, trying to look back over her shoulder at the two short blonde girls with enormous panda eyes, wearing purple kaftans, whom they'd just passed by. ‘As in, the real ones?'
‘Who knows,' Issa shrugged, still walking, trying to keep pace with Flic. ‘Most of the time it's Shapeshifters. They like to show off. Don't stare like that,' she warned, yanking Evie's arm. ‘They'll realise you're not one of us. And besides,' she said with a sigh, ‘it only encourages them.'
As they neared the entrance Evie felt her heart rate upping and beads of sweat starting to slide down her back. ‘Is this going to work?' she asked Issa nervously.
‘So far, so good,' Issa answered. ‘But who knows? Everything hinges on one snap decision. You stare too long at those Mixen over there then who knows which way this could turn.'
Evie swallowed and kept moving forward, head down, eyes averted. She wished she could feel Lucas, wished even more that she could see him. She tried to sense him like she had done the other night, when he'd been fighting Shula, but there were too many unhumans around and she couldn't focus. With the suffocating panic that had a hold of her, it was all she could do to follow Issa's orders not to stare and to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
They reached the head of the line and Flic burst her way through the crowd, planting herself in front of two doormen who were standing in front of a metal door. A stream of profanities and growls erupted from the crowd behind them.
‘Hey Jules,' Flic drawled, completely ignoring the protesting crowd and flashing the doorman a wide smile, ‘I brought some friends. Can we skip the queue?'
Chapter 9
Lucas waited in the shadows ready to pounce. The Thirster behind Evie was growling unpleasantly. Lucas's fingers were clasped around the hilt of his blade. He watched the Thirster. If it made the slightest move it would find itself missing a head. And then it would find itself on fire. He was tempted to start the fight here and now. But taking it inside was the sensible thing – away from any prying human eyes – and somewhere he could contain the mess. His training from Tristan was coming back to him instinctively. He had already scanned the entire crowd on his way past, assessing who potentially posed a threat, who would run, who was armed, who would go down easily. There were no Shadow Warriors, thankfully, besides Flic. No one who could see him hidden here in the shadows.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen them up, never taking his eyes off Evie. He didn't like it – being this far from her. It reminded him of how he'd felt standing on the bank of the pond watching her dive down into the darkness – that stomach-curling sensation of having her just out of reach, the freezing fear that he might not be able to reach her in time. From over here in the shadows he could barely scent her, her heartbeat was just a rapid whisper, an undercurrent to all the other noises he was picking up – the shrieks of the Mixen further back in the crowd discussing the downfalls of getting intimate with the male of the species, and a couple of Scorpio talking in hushed voices about which realm was best for scoring drugs. Some young Shapeshifters near the front of the line were still talking about him. Apparently the rumour had it he had slaughtered a whole army of Thirsters, drunk the blood of the Scorpio whose tail he'd chopped off and had made into a belt, and was now off enjoying a romantic honeymoon with the Hunter he'd rescued.
He laughed under his breath, imagining what Evie would say if she could hear. No doubt she'd ask to see the Scorpio-skin belt. She was looking around nervously now. From the way her eyes kept skirting over the alley he guessed that she was trying to sense him, but her eyes flew right by him. Issa had stepped between her and the Thirsters and was shielding her partly from sight. He stared at Issa's blonde head, half masking Evie's darker one, and another wave of unease washed over him. What if Issa had been right about the army? What if she wasn't trying to scare him?
He didn't have time to think about it, however. Whatever Flic had said had worked. The doorman was standing aside to let her and the others into the club. Lucas readied himself, waiting for Jamieson's signal. As soon as he saw it, he moved, crossing the alley unseen and ducking beneath Jamieson's arm as he held the door open wide for Evie and Issa.