Severed(33)

Cyrus's head flew up. ‘What's he talking about?' he asked through a clenched jaw.

Evie stared at Margaret. What was going on? But Margaret was glaring at Victor, her face turning pale.

‘Where's Lucas?' Victor asked.

‘He's not here. I got him out of the picture,' Margaret answered.

‘What?' Evie heard herself ask. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, shaking her head at Margaret in disbelief. ‘You planned this? You knew Victor would be here?'

‘What's going on?' Cyrus asked, sounding every bit as confused as she was.

Victor reached out an arm. ‘Evie, come with me,' he demanded.

She burst out laughing and took a step backwards, thrusting the blade out before her. ‘No,' she said. ‘Are you kidding me? I'm not going anywhere with you. I wish I'd let Lucas kill you. I wish I'd killed you myself.'

Faster than Evie had anticipated, Victor lunged, his fingers closing around her left wrist. She pulled backwards, her right hand swiping with the blade, slashing the top of his arm. The Shadow Blade sliced easily through his suit, drawing blood. Victor instantly let her go, staring at his arm in surprise as the blood started to drip to the carpet. He tugged at his silk cravat, pulling it free from his neck before wrapping it around his arm, the whole time keeping his eyes trained on her. Evie's own gaze fell instantly to the thin red line against the front of his throat that had been hidden up until now. That was the scar from where Lucas had pressed his knife to Victor's throat. As she stared at it, and Victor was momentarily distracted with tying a tourniquet, she took two small steps sideways, closing the space between her and the now-empty doorway.

‘She's not going with you,' Cyrus said, raising his voice. ‘She's not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on.'

‘Cyrus, it's for the best,' whispered Margaret.

Cyrus shook his head. ‘For whose best?' he asked. ‘No one's going anywhere, least of all Evie, until you tell me what's going on. Why did you bring us back here? I'm guessing it wasn't for the book, was it?'

Margaret shook her head. ‘No,' she admitted.

‘There's nothing about the prophecy in it, is there?' Cyrus grimaced.

‘Give it to me,' Victor demanded, turning to Margaret now and holding out his hand.

‘Give him what, Mum?' Cyrus shouted.

Margaret glanced at Cyrus. ‘This,' she said, pulling something out of her back pocket. She held it up. It was a piece of torn, crumpled, yellowing paper.

Evie stared at it, her heart starting to leap in broken rhythms.

‘What? What is it?' Cyrus asked, shooting them both confused looks.

‘It's the prophecy,' Evie answered him, her eyes tracking back to the piece of paper in Margaret's hand. ‘That's what you've been researching, isn't it?' she asked, her gaze flying now to Margaret's face. Evie wanted to snatch the piece of paper from Margaret's hand, but she was rooted to the spot, a feeling of terror inching through her body.

‘Give it to me!' Victor shouted, snatching the piece of paper out of Margaret's hand.

‘What does it say?' Cyrus demanded.

A slow smile seeped across Victor's face as he read whatever was written on it. He glanced up quickly at Cyrus then began reading out loud, his eyes flaming.

Of two who remain a child will be born,

A purebred warrior, the fated White Light

Standing alone in the eventual fight

Severing the realms and closing the way

Passing through the light and into the dark

Memories will rise, shadows fade on this day

Confronting an army drawn from the realms,

The sun, the giver of life and the light

Together will stand and together fight

One sacrificing all to close the way

Passing through the light and into the dark

Memories will fade, shadows fall on this day

He stopped, raising his eyes from the page and fixing Evie with a look that burnt the breath clean out of her body.

‘That's it?' Cyrus burst out. ‘That bad pretence at poetry is what we've been running around looking for? Sacrificing all? What the hell does that mean?' He looked at his mother and Victor for an answer. The two of them stood staring at Evie; Margaret with an expression of pity, possibly guilt, on her face, and Victor wearing the smug smile that his name suggested.

Evie took a trembling step backwards. Her breathing was coming fast and shallow now, and sweat had started prickling along her spine. She wasn't getting enough oxygen. Her lips were starting to tingle. Her feet felt leaden.

‘To fulfil the prophecy Evie has to walk through the Gateway. Through the light and into the dark  –  that's what it means.' Victor answered Cyrus without taking his eyes off Evie. And before Evie could move or talk or process anything further, Victor made a move, taking a blindingly fast leap towards her. She held up her hands automatically to deflect him but Cyrus was quicker, sidestepping between the two of them, blocking Victor.

‘Sacrificing all  … ' Cyrus mumbled to the ground. Then he looked up sharply, staring over his shoulder at Evie as if she was a ghost. ‘You mean that  … ' he stammered, ‘that Evie has to die. To close it?'

There was just the word die. It was all she heard and then sounds became muffled as if she was entombed in a coffin, listening to voices seep through the soil at her graveside. Victor's face grew blurry and indistinct. Evie was only half-aware of Cyrus turning to her in slow motion, his mouth stretching, forming words she couldn't make out. Blocking all the noise, cancelling out the yelling was the sound of the river rushing loudly outside the window as if it had suddenly changed course and was raining down on the house. But then she realised with a start that it wasn't the river at all  –  it was the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears. As if on cue, her senses spun like a tuning dial and noise rushed back in, in full stereo. The blurred faces in the room flew sharply into focus.

‘ …  this all along?' Cyrus was yelling at his mum. ‘When we came to see you? You knew what Evie would have to do?'

Margaret nodded, ‘Yes.'

He shook his head, ‘You didn't say anything  … '

‘Of course she didn't say anything, Cyrus  … ' Victor interrupted.

‘It's why you brought me here though, isn't it?' Evie spoke up, addressing Margaret. Her voice sounded normal, without even a trace of anger or surprise in it, and she was amazed at that. It shouldn't sound normal given the voice inside her head was screaming hysterically. ‘It's why you called Victor to meet us  –  even though you hate him.'

Margaret fixed her with a defiant stare, throwing her shoulders back and tipping her chin up. ‘Yes,' she answered.

‘I don't get it,' Cyrus shouted. ‘Can someone enlighten me? Why bring him into this?' He jerked his knife in Victor's direction.

‘He'll see that it's done,' Evie whispered.

‘How did you even find him?' Cyrus asked, turning to Margaret.

‘I looked up Jocelyn's number after Evie told me she lived in Riverview,' Margaret answered. ‘I convinced her to help me find Victor.'

‘Did Jocelyn know?' Evie demanded, feeling a sudden spurt of anger. ‘Did she know all along about the prophecy too? About this suicide mission?'

‘No, of course she didn't,' Victor laughed. ‘Even I didn't know the full meaning until now. I only suspected.'

Evie turned to look at him. There was that smug smile again. She wanted to swipe it off his face. Her fingers, which had loosened on the knife, suddenly tightened, gripping the hilt with force. She raised it to chest height and saw the fleeting look of surprise pass across Victor's face before the smirk returned. Evie's head was still whirling, trying to process everything, the word die beating like a drum against the inside of her skull.

‘Evie,' Victor said, gently this time, as though he'd guessed her next move, ‘There's nothing you can do. It's the prophecy.'

‘She can't die. That's insane,' Cyrus burst out. ‘There has to be another way. Why would walking through the Gateway kill her anyway? It doesn't hurt unhumans.'

Victor shrugged, his eyes glinting. Now he had the prophecy in his hands he didn't care about the hows or the whys, just about seeing it was done.

Evie felt like pointing out to Cyrus that even if she could walk through it she'd walk headlong into an army of unhumans all primed to kill her. Either way she lost. But she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth. A part of her welled up in sympathy for Cyrus; she could feel his confusion thick as fog, even as her own cleared away and the truth lay gleaming in front of her. She glanced at Margaret, who was still blocking the doorway, and almost smiled at the woman. There was no way out even if she found her way past these Hunters. There was no way back to Lucas and there was no choice. There never had been. Lucas had been wrong to believe there was. She took a step towards Victor.

‘What are you doing?' Cyrus demanded, staring at her wide-eyed, as he blocked her way. ‘You're just going to go with him?'

She did smile then  –  genuinely, sadly  –  feeling a rift tear along her heart as she let the knife fall to her side.






     
 

      Chapter 31



There were four. Lucas counted each of their heartbeats. Four Hunters inside the house. He could sense Evie the strongest, feel her presence fighting his reason, pulling him nearer when he needed to bide his time out here in the shadows, far enough away so the others couldn't feel him. Cyrus's car was parked at the end of the driveway so he was assuming that he was in the house too, along with Victor and Margaret. Victor's car was parked further up the street.