She watched him. ‘Why does everyone keep saying that?'
Cyrus reached the top and jumped to the ground – again landing silently in a crouch beside her. ‘Maybe because it's true? Listen, my mum would just love for me to go to Harvard or Yale. Hey, what's so funny?'
Evie bit the inside of her cheek to kill the smirk.
‘I could have got the grades,' he went on, ‘if I'd finished school. I could totally have gone there. I just chose not to – wasn't my thing. Ever since I was a kid I knew I wanted to be this. To do this. It's in my genes.' He walked over to her and pressed a finger to her chest. ‘Just as it's in your genes, Evie. You're a pureblood. It's even more in your genes than mine. For you, being a Hunter is as undeniable as having blue eyes and a tight ass.' He winked and spun on his heel once more.
‘But how did you know it was even who you were?' she asked, trying to twist so that her behind was out of view. ‘I had no idea. If Victor hadn't come along and told me I wouldn't have just known. I never had an impulse to go out and kill people. I never even knew unhumans existed for God's sake. I'd have just kept living in blissful ignorance. I would have finished school, moved to New York, probably studied journalism. My life would have been normal.' Though normal, she realised as she said it, wouldn't have included Lucas.
She started punching the bag again. Cyrus was right; the bandages actually gave her more strength, more power. It would be frightening quite how much she'd grown in strength if it wasn't so exhilarating. She almost wished that Victor was there in the flesh so she could rip him a new one.
Cyrus was leaning against the sofa with his ankles crossed, watching her. ‘Well, wave goodbye to the dream of normality,' he said. ‘Normality is boring. You wouldn't have been happy.'
‘You didn't answer the question yet,' she snapped back, angry that he was presuming to know what made her happy. Though maybe he was right. She hadn't been happy back in Riverview. But was she any happier now living this life? Her hands fell to her sides. Weirdly, and wrong as it felt to admit it, she was happier. But not because she was a Hunter. She was happier because Lucas was in her life. Before he'd arrived she'd been hollow, a remnant of the girl she once had been, her heart carved out by grief. Now it felt whole again. She felt whole again.
‘How did you know you were a Hunter?' she asked, switching the conversation away from her, unwilling to share anything so personal with Cyrus.
Cyrus shook his head. ‘I can't remember a time I didn't know what I was or where I came from. Other kids got told fairy tales before bed. I got told about all the unhumans out there wanting to suck my blood, slice me up and rip my head off.' He grimaced. ‘My mum believed in honesty. She told me as soon as I was old enough to understand why we were running and what we were running from. I guess she thought if she told me who I was – what my history was – then there was no chance I'd follow in her footsteps.' He laughed. ‘But she got that wrong. Maybe if she'd never told me I would have grown up, finished school, gone to Harvard, become a doctor or a lawyer – had that normal life you're so keen on having. But she didn't. She told me about the alternative. And, frankly, this life sounded way more fun. I mean, killing demons? Can you think of anything better?'
Evie wondered if he was being sarcastic but then she realised with a sense of unease that he wasn't joking. His face had transformed, his eyes lighting up, brimming with excitement.
‘But what did your mum say?' Evie asked.
‘What did your mum say when you ran off with a demon?' he shot back.
She frowned. ‘He's not … he's not like that. He's only half anyway. And even if he wasn't, he's … .' She faltered. What was the point of trying to explain how good Lucas was? Or how she felt about him? How could she explain to a boy who was clearly only interested in notches on his bedpost that being with Lucas made the world stop spinning out of control? That he was the one that made her believe in herself? She raised her head wearily. ‘You need to give him a chance.'
‘No, I don't,' Cyrus answered, walking over to the ropes.
‘You're wrong about him,' Evie called after him, hearing the note of defiance in her voice.
‘I'm not wrong about anything,' Cyrus answered, taking hold of the rope in both hands and sliding up it.
‘Wow,' she said. ‘Truly, your modesty astounds me. I bow before your humility.'
He glanced down at her, grinning, and then he let go of the rope, somersaulting twice and landing like a gold-medal-seeking gymnast right by her. She rocked back on her heels feeling his proximity and the heat from his chest, but not about to cede an inch of floor space to him.
‘Why should I be humble? I am good at this.' He was leaning in towards her now, his eyes on fire, the dark slash in the left one burning like an ember. ‘Really, really good at it. If you gave me a choice now I'd choose this life every time.' He paused, flashing her a knowing smile. ‘And you're good at it too. You're strong. Tell me, what did killing that unhuman feel like? It felt good, right? You feel good now too, I bet.'
She spun away.
‘Tell me you didn't enjoy it,' Cyrus called after her.
She came to a sudden halt, took a deep breath and turned around to face him once more. ‘I was forced to. I didn't want to.'
‘How were you forced?'
‘A Sybll. She gave me the knife. She deliberately put herself in danger knowing that I'd have to act.'
‘Did she force you or did she just see what you were going to do anyway?'
‘She set me up,' Evie yelled, amazed at the anger that had erupted out of her.
Cyrus moved quickly again. He was standing right in front of her all of a sudden and this time the smile was gone, the smugness too. His expression was full of concern. ‘You're afraid,' he said softly. ‘But what's done is done, Evie. You need to learn to be accountable, because from here on it's going to get messy. If you're scared to think about what you've done, if you're scared to admit what you are, you'll fail.'
She stood there as if paralysed, his words playing over and over in her head. Cyrus didn't move either. He just continued to stare at her, sweat trickling down his chest. Finally, Evie exhaled loudly and started tearing the bandages off her hands, tugging at the knots he'd made. ‘Look, forget it. Forget I asked anything. All I wanted to know was why you chose this life. I mean, if you had a choice. But I guess I got my answer.'
He took hold of her wrists. She resisted again, annoyed with him. He pulled her nearer, ignoring her token protest, and started unpicking the knot he'd made, his fingers moving deftly. His body was a fraction from hers, his bare feet either side of her own. She focused on a spot on the wall over his shoulder and tried not to fidget.
‘Listen,' he said. ‘I didn't really choose this life. It kind of chose me. That's what I'm trying to tell you.'
She scowled at him. ‘That's not true. You chose to become a rogue Hunter. You could have gone to Harvard. Apparently.'
‘I became a rogue Hunter because I couldn't join the actual Hunters. Not after my mum had run off. So this was the alternative. And besides, the Hunters are old school; they fight archaically – see, big word. Plus, I'm in charge. No one tells me what to do.' He dropped her hands.
‘You don't say,' she answered. ‘Hey, hand me the towel.'
He flung it to her. She caught it in one hand, biting back the smile.
‘I started out on my own,' Cyrus carried on, rolling the bandages up between his hands, ‘hunting the streets at night, mainly targeting Thirsters who were out prowling for fresh meat. That's how I met Ash. He was picking fights downtown with Thirsters. He had some issues. One of them ate his best friend.'
‘How did you know Ash was a Hunter?'
Cyrus shrugged, ‘Easy. You can just feel it. There's a buzz. A chemistry.' He pocketed the bandages and leant towards her, his voice dropping so she could almost feel it reverberating in her own chest. ‘You feel it between us, don't you?'
Evie crossed her arms over her chest and smiled sweetly. ‘You mean that overwhelming desire I have – to punch you?'
Cyrus grinned. ‘Feisty. I like that in a girl.'
She rolled her eyes. ‘Just finish what you were saying.'
He paused to lick his lips, a small smile of amusement still on his face, ‘You can feel it. When someone's the same as us. Like I can feel you, Evie. Something pulsing off you. It's strong.'
‘That would be the waves of irritation,' she answered.
He was obviously deaf because he leant in even closer towards her so he was almost brushing her chest. ‘We're like magnets. We're naturally drawn to each other.' His gaze, if she wasn't mistaken, was very much on her lips.
‘Aha. Is that so?' she answered. ‘Some magnets are repelled by each other you know.' And before he could make another move she marched straight past him towards the kitchen.
‘Don't fight it,' he called to her back as she walked off.
She spun around, blazing, ‘Oh, believe me, I'm not.'
He shrugged and she felt the low growl build in her throat.
‘So you and him then?' Cyrus suddenly asked. ‘What's that like?'