Severed(44)

That's when he felt Evie. His head flew up instantly, his stomach tightening as the murmur in his chest became louder. He sprinted to the far edge of the roof, forgetting the pain in his side, and dropped to a crouching position behind the parapet.

The BMW was pulling into the lot beneath him, opposite a fried-chicken joint. He watched, holding his breath, as the back door flew open even before the car had stopped and something silver spun out across the lot. He followed its trajectory. Two Scorpio, wearing red uniforms, were running at full tilt towards the car, their tails arching above their heads.

Lucas's feet found the ledge just as the first Scorpio tumbled in a somersault to the ground, vanishing on impact. The second Scorpio faltered and this time Lucas saw the silver disk embed in his chest. Then he vanished too. The crimson-spattered disc clattered to the tarmac. Lucas trained his eyes on the car where Ash now stood beside the out-flung door admiring his handiwork.

Evie climbed out of the car beside Ash, one hand resting on the top of the door while her eyes scanned the building. Her gaze flew straight to the roof. She was staring right at him. Could she see him? He stepped back into daylight and waved, trying to draw her attention. If she saw him there, would she change her mind? But someone had appeared in front of her and was blocking her view. Lucas flexed his fists at the sight of Cyrus, and then ground his teeth when Margaret and Vero appeared as well. Lucas inched along the wall trying to get a better visual on Evie but Cyrus had his arm around her shoulder now and was already marching her across the parking lot towards the rear entrance of the building, the others flanking them.

Lucas rocked back onto his heels. Goddamn it. It was time for that serious disagreement he'd been meaning to have with Cyrus. He gripped the ledge and ran his eyes along the side of the building looking for a way down. He had to stop them, stop Evie. He couldn't let her go inside.

He swung his leg over the side of the ledge and gripped hold of a plastic drainpipe, which groaned as he shifted all his weight onto it. He looked downwards just at the same second that Evie glanced back up. Their eyes met and caught, a look of total horror and pain and darkness passing over Evie's face before she looked away and kept walking. Lucas lost his grip. He grabbed for a window ledge, clawing desperately for balance. By the time he managed to find his footing again and glance down, she was gone.






     
 

      Chapter 43



Cyrus was holding her close, crushing her, or maybe it wasn't him crushing her, maybe it was fear squeezing the breath out of her body. She shouldn't have looked back. Hadn't Issa warned her not to? Because now all she could see in her mind's eye was the expression on Lucas's face  –  the despair, the anguish, the hurt at her betrayal. Damn it. Why had he followed her? Why couldn't he see this was the only way?

The door was just ahead of them, gaping like a toothless mouth. Evie could see the dimmed and hushed interior inside. And in the shadows just beyond the door she could sense something lingering. Cyrus too could feel it  –  he slowed his pace fractionally, sliding a short, flat sword out of its scabbard as he walked.

‘Stay close,' he said to her, not taking his eyes off the door. She nodded as she felt his hand fall away. But there came a pull, as if her body was attached by invisible cords to something  –  no, not to something, to someone  –  and it was yanking her powerfully in the opposite direction. She faltered even as she tried to keep moving forwards and Cyrus's hand closed around her wrist. He pulled her close against his side, his fingers biting into her wrist, and shot her a warning look. Behind her Vero nudged her with what felt like the point of an arrow.

She threw off Cyrus's hand, rolled back her shoulders and marched forwards, crossing the darkened threshold into the Bradbury building. It was as if they were tourists come to ogle at the skylights and the historic interiors. As if they weren't fully armed and about to do battle with monsters and demons.

As soon as they were through the door, Cyrus swung fast to his right, pushing Evie with the full weight of his body behind him. He brought his right arm up at the same time in a wide arc. The Scorpio who'd sprung at them fell forwards, toppling towards them with a startled expression on his face, his sunglasses flying off his face. His red eyes blinked once in shock as Cyrus twisted the blade and, with a grunt, threw the Scorpio backwards. He slammed into the wall with a crunch and then vanished, leaving only a smear of blood where his head had smashed into the brick.

Without breaking stride, Cyrus sheathed the sword and pulled Evie towards the atrium. The others closed ranks around her, Vero and Ash walking backwards, their heels scuffing against Evie's.

A shout from Ash made Evie spin around just in time to see Vero drop to one knee and slash two swords in front of her chest in a wide, sweeping motion. Evie blinked. Through her lashes, caught in a strand of sunlight, she saw the faintest outline of a Shadow Warrior leap into focus. And just as quickly it vanished and something clattered to the ground, sending up a hail of blue sparks.

Vero sheathed both her swords across her back and reached forward to pick up the shadow blade that had fallen by her feet. She hefted it into her right hand, feeling its lightness, then grinned up at Ash. He grinned back at her as she stood and sheathed the weapon through the belt of her dress.

‘Let's go,' Cyrus said, checking over his shoulder.

They swung into a well of light and Evie looked up, startled. They were standing beneath a central glass atrium. Sunlight was fracturing through it, refracting off the red brickwork around them and making it seem as if it was inlaid with quartz crystal. Slats of light were painting the floor and poking their rays through the twisted wrought-iron balustrades. A marble staircase swept up to the first floor and beyond. It was majestic and echoing and beautiful. And completely empty. Hadn't Issa said there would be Thirsters waiting?

‘I thought this place was open to the public?' Margaret asked in a whisper.

‘It is,' Cyrus answered, heading towards two elevators encased in iron cages. He pressed the call button.

‘Well, where is everyone then?'

Evie glanced around. It was true. The place was emptier than a Thirster's grave.

‘I think maybe they got eaten,' Ash said quietly.

Evie turned her head slowly, her senses overwhelmed by the stench that had just hit her. The elevator doors stood wide open, and for a moment Evie could only stare, unseeing, trying to piece together the image in front of her. It looked as if someone had dumped a heap of dirty clothing into the elevator, but then limbs began to materialise. Just by the door lay a hand  –  just a hand. No arm was attached. On one finger was a wedding band and Evie stared at it in shock.

She realised too, with ghost-like detachment, that the floor wasn't in fact painted gloss red either. It was a small lake of blood that was pooling at her feet. Evie kept staring at the two  –  or was it three?  –  bodies, all in police uniform, lying torn and dismembered inside the elevator. She wasn't really seeing them. She was seeing Risper. And Neena.

So many people dead. So many more who would die.

The others were equally horror struck. Vero was pressing her head into Ash's shoulder, Cyrus was staring dumbly, Margaret was clutching his arm to steady herself. Evie stepped quickly past them all and strode to the other elevator. Cyrus called after her, running to catch her up.

‘Stay by my side,' he said through gritted teeth, seizing her by the hand.

She snatched her arm from his grip and reached to press the call button on the second elevator. The others joined them, watchful and on edge, their weapons at the ready, as the doors cranked open. This one was thankfully empty. Margaret was first in, a UV lamp clutched in each hand.

‘Wait up,' Ash called, as Cyrus pulled Evie into the elevator behind him.

They hesitated, stepping gingerly back into the lobby. Ash was pointing across the atrium to where three Thirsters now stood toeing the line where shadow met bright sunlit floor. They were spitting like a pit of angry snakes, their fangs bared, eyes bursting with blooms of red. A hiss of steam erupted as one of them thrust his chest forwards into the light. He screamed and fell back.

‘They're newly made,' Cyrus said. ‘Check the fang marks in their necks. And they're blood-high.'

Blood-high? She'd never heard the expression but Evie could guess what it meant.

‘They're trapped,' Ash murmured, glancing up at the blue sky and ribbons of sunlight cascading through the roof. ‘We're lucky it's not cloudy today.'

‘We're lucky they're not Originals,' Cyrus muttered, striding across the lobby towards them.

‘That the best you can do?' he roared at them. ‘What's the matter? Can't cross the line?' He stopped a tantalisingly few centimetres in front of them. One of the Thirsters thrust his hand forward, grabbing for him, pulling it back with a high-pitched scream as it brushed the rays of sunlight. ‘Oooh, did that hurt?' Cyrus taunted. ‘You big baby, don't you want to get your fangs into this?' He bent his head to the side, exposing his neck and a slickly pulsing artery. The middle Thirster threw back his head and howled. The others started snapping wildly at the scent.

‘Cyrus!' Margaret yelled.