‘I've led a charmed life,' Cyrus answered, a rueful sad smile playing on his lips.
Evie shook her head, still not understanding, and then she saw it. She saw it suddenly, in the flash of fear that glanced across Cyrus's eyes even as he grinned at her and turned away.
Evie raised her hand, grabbing for his arm, but he was too fast. Her palm grazed the Scorpio scar on his back, and then he was gone. Cyrus had stepped through the Gateway instead of her – and all that remained of him was a black fading outline standing out against the curtain of light in front of her. And then there was nothing left of him at all, not even the memory of his shadow. He was simply gone. Evie was staring at a brick wall. The light had vanished. The room was empty. The way through had closed.
Margaret's howls spun in her head and Vero's cries split the air and darkness threatened to swallow her whole.
Chapter 46
Lucas caught her as she fell, crashing to his knees, holding her. Nothing else registered – the noise, the screams, sirens and alarms were all just white noise. The only thing that he registered was that Evie was alive. That he was holding her in his arms, touching her. That it was all over. And she was still here.
‘Evie,' he whispered her name, burying his face in her hair, feeling her breath shallow and warm against his neck. ‘Evie,' he said again, taking her face in his hands. She opened her eyes slowly and the whole world rushed into them – the blue dark as indigo. He felt the scream inside her head, tearing through her, could hear it echoing in his own skull.
‘Lucas.' She whispered his name as if she didn't quite believe it was him kneeling in front of her, holding her. As though she was scared that she was dreaming. Her hand hovered just above his skin, almost too afraid to touch him.
He clasped hold of her fingers and she let out a gasp, then fell against him, holding him tight. After a few seconds she glanced up at him. Tears were sliding down her face.
‘How … how did … what happened? I thought I was supposed to be the one to close it?' she asked.
Lucas couldn't give her an answer. He just shook his head. He'd fought his way past two more Shadow Warriors and a handful of Thirsters, had leapt down the stairs, burst into the room and all he'd seen was a blinding flare of light and Cyrus silhouetted against it. And then he'd watched the light fade to nothing. He hadn't been in time.
And yet it didn't matter. Evie was still here. And he didn't understand how or why, but for the moment he didn't need to. He reached a hand and touched Evie lightly on the cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
‘How could Cyrus do that?' she asked, staring at the wall, her face pale, her lips ashen.
‘He's like you.'
Lucas turned his head. It was Vero speaking.
‘He was like you,' she corrected herself, her voice breaking as she fixed Evie with a dark-eyed stare. A trickle of blood ran like a fat red worm from her temple to her jaw. She was holding her elbow as though it might be broken.
‘What do you mean he's like Evie?' Lucas asked.
‘Cyrus was a child of two warriors too. A pure Hunter.' Vero's shoulders were shaking as she said it and Ash put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes as he did. It was only then that Lucas became aware that Margaret was kneeling on the ground, keening to herself as she rocked back and forth, her hands clutched to her chest.
‘How?' he asked, guilt pulling at his insides, even as his grip on Evie tightened.
‘His father was a Hunter.'
‘Who?' Evie asked in a stunned whisper, ‘Who was his father?'
‘David. The man who was training your parents and Victor and Margaret.'
A long, otherworldly cry erupted out of Margaret's chest, silencing them all. Lucas stared at her, fighting the urge to shove Margaret against the wall and demand to know how she could have let them believe all this time that Evie was the one, that she was the one to be sacrificed, when all along it had been Cyrus. But as he got to his feet all the anger evaporated out of him. Margaret had only been doing what he himself had been trying to do – protecting the one she loved. He understood Margaret far better than he wanted to and the anger was washed away by a torrent of pity he knew she would hate if she ever became aware of it.
‘How long have you known this?' he demanded in a quiet voice, turning back to Vero.
‘Just since last night,' Ash answered for her. ‘Victor told Cyrus who his father was. I think when you and Evie ran off, Victor thought he had a second shot at it. And Cyrus agreed. He was going to close it by himself – and then Evie showed up and volunteered.'
Lucas turned back to Evie. She was still kneeling on the floor, staring at the wall, tears dripping onto her lap. Her arms and hands were covered in red welts. He dropped to a crouch in front of her, feeling the ache in his broken rib, and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her gently to face him.
‘Evie,' he said, ‘come on, let's go.'
He helped her to her feet, putting his arm around her waist and leading her past the others, past Margaret who was still collapsed and rocking back and forth on the floor. Evie hesitated. She looked like she was about to say something to Margaret but then she decided against it and let Lucas lead her through the hole where the door had once been and where the costume hire sign lay smoking and twisted on the ground. They crossed to the elevators.
‘No, not the elevator,' Evie whispered.
Lucas led her up the stairs, halfway up pausing to look back, hearing Vero and Ash making their own way across the bomb-blasted basement towards the stairs. Vero was helping Margaret stagger up the stairs, while Ash was clinging to the banister, his face contorting into a tight grimace with every step.
When they reached the atrium with the sunlight bursting through, Evie shuddered.
‘It was never me,' she said in a whisper. ‘The White Light, the prophecy. It wasn't me.' She shook her head. ‘It never was. All this time … ' She broke off.
Lucas didn't say anything.
‘Everything I've done, every time I didn't think I had a choice, that wasn't true,' Evie mumbled, her eyes scanning the lobby. ‘I always had a choice. My parents were right after all.'
She looked up at Lucas with a confused expression. He looked away. The whole time he'd believed the prophecy was about Evie. He'd believed it because he had needed a reason for why he was so compelled to save her, even before he really knew her. And the prophecy had given him that reason. He'd been the one to convince her she was it, even back when she was ready to quit. He was the reason she was here. And the realisation of that was almost worse than the feeling he'd had when he thought he'd never see her again. He could barely look at her, was too afraid that any second she'd figure it out and would wrench herself from his arms. A part of him almost wanted her to. But when he dared to look back at her she was smiling at him with such softness and hope in her expression that the fear backed off.
Evie walked across the atrium, past the piles of ash and blackened walls. The doors they were heading to were thrown open just as they reached them and a dozen firefighters rushed past them yelling.
‘Get out! Get out of the building! Can't you hear the alarm going off?' one of them shouted.
‘Come on, let's go,' Lucas said, urging Evie through the doors, and darting a nervous glance towards the elevators. It would only be minutes before they started finding body parts and scorched remains. It would be better if they were long gone before then.
They fell out into the sunlight, tripping down the steps, blinking in the glare and deafened by all the fire trucks and blasting sirens. His first instinct in sunlight was always to look for the shadows, to know where he could fade without being seen but Lucas didn't do that this time. He didn't want to fade ever again. He started to weave his way through the crowd, needing to step into where the sunlight was broadest, wanting to get Evie away from whatever else might still be lurking.
They were past the fire trucks, two blocks down, holding each other tight, still too stunned to really talk about what had just happened, when without warning, Evie was suddenly torn from his arms.
Lucas spun around, leaping without thinking at the man who had Evie by the arm and was dragging her across the sidewalk. It was Victor. He'd appeared out of nowhere and with his one good arm was holding Evie against his broad chest, a knife pressed to her heart.
Lucas was between them in the next instant, his elbow coming up and jabbing at Victor's shoulder, over the wound he'd made earlier. Victor let go instantly grunting with pain, the knife clattering to the sidewalk. Evie danced out of his way.
‘It's done. It's done,' Lucas shouted, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. The street was crowded but all the attention was on the burning building.
‘What do you mean?' Victor asked, glancing at Evie.
‘Cyrus,' Vero said, appearing behind Victor. ‘Cyrus closed it.'
Victor spun around. Seeing Vero, Margaret and Ash standing bloodied on the sidewalk, he faltered. ‘Cyrus?' He looked at the Bradbury building and seemed for the first time to notice the firemen bustling in and out of the entrance and the fire trucks lining the street.