Severed (13 page)

Cyrus dropped the towel, and leant over the sofa for a glass of water he’d placed on the table. She noted the long scar running across his back – a lash from a Scorpio tail it looked like – and then the ripple of muscle as he set the glass down. Her eyes were back on the punch bag, admiring the stitching, when he looked back.

‘My mum,’ he said, ‘she had some money. She
has
some money I should say. We fixed this place up.’ He wiped his arm across his face and then crossed to two ropes hanging down with hoops dangling from the ends of them. He took hold of one in each hand and pulled himself upright so her face was suddenly level with his crotch.

‘Where does your mum live?’ Evie asked, tilting her head back so she was looking at his face. ‘Not here, I take it.’

‘No. She lives about half an hour away, depending on traffic.’

‘And what does she do now?’

Cyrus was stretching his arms out wide, pulling his legs up behind him to form a horizontal cross. Evie noted with annoyance that he wasn’t even shaking with the tension of holding the pose. ‘She has a few stores,’ he grunted. ‘They do pretty well.’

Evie stared at him, blinking slowly. It was possible then, she thought in amazement, to get away and create a life outside this, to be something else other than a Hunter – to be normal.

‘I have a question,’ she asked.

‘Shoot,’ he answered, moving fluidly into a handstand.

Evie momentarily lost her train of thought watching the way he moved, his arms locked straight, the muscles in his shoulders glistening with sweat. On the inside of his left arm she spied the tattoo again. It looked like some sort of bird, but upside down she couldn’t see enough detail to make out what type of bird it was.

‘If she was a Hunter and she ran away from all that, why are you one?’ she asked. ‘Why, when you have all this and could be staying at home impressing the ladies with your mad air-hockey skills or your gymnastic routines, are you out there hunting unhumans?’

Cyrus landed in a silent crouch in front of her. ‘I was wondering when you’d get around to asking that,’ he said with a grin.

Chapter 20

Evie waited but he didn’t give her an answer. Instead Cyrus reached into the back pocket of his sweatpants and drew out what looked like a white bandage. He took hold of her left hand and pulled her towards him. Evie tried to snatch her hand back but he held fast, his fingers gripping her wrist. ‘You’re going to hurt yourself punching like that,’ he said by way of explanation as he started binding her hand and knuckles. ‘You’re healing quickly,’ he said, lifting his eyes to her forehead.

She felt with the fingertips of her free hand along her hairline.

‘Mixen burn?’ he asked, his thumb stroking the uneven patch of skin on her forearm.

‘Yes,’ she nodded, looking down at it. It had almost faded to nothing. His thumb stopped tracing and went back to tying a knot in the bandage. ‘So are you going to tell me why you’re a Hunter when there’s no need for you to be?’

He finished bandaging her right hand then let go of it. It flopped to her side feeling weirdly mummified. He considered her for a moment as though he was bemused that she didn’t know the answer already. Then finally he spoke. ‘Because, Evie, we can’t fight who we are.’

She frowned at him. Victor had used those exact words just a few weeks ago. She opened her mouth to shout something back at him about screwing
who we are
, but Cyrus had already grabbed hold of a rope and was starting to shimmy up it like a spider monkey.

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?’

It took her a second to register the question. She shook her head in total disbelief. ‘None of your goddamn business.’

‘Does he disappear every time you get down to it?’ The smug smile was back.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ She turned clumsily away hoping he couldn’t see the blush spreading across her cheeks. Why in hell was everyone so interested in her and Lucas’s business? First her mother and now Cyrus. She could feel another wave of blood rushing to her cheeks as she remembered the last night at Flic’s. Lucas hadn’t disappeared, but he had pulled away, disentangling himself from the rumpled bed sheets and her wayward limbs and getting up and crossing to the window as if there was something of vital interest hanging outside in the dawn light. She’d eventually gone to stand by him and he’d wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Then, after a few moments, he’d taken her hands in his and told her something along the lines of
no
.

But how was it supposed to be then? Cyrus had a point. There was no more normal. There was going to be no prom night, no series of dates and movies and desperate kisses on the veranda while her mother hovered just inside the screen door. This was it. Time was running out. But more than that, there was this feeling she had that was beyond reason. She wanted him. She wanted Lucas more than she’d ever wanted anyone or anything in her life. It wasn’t even
want
she realised. It was
need
. Want was for ice cream or a chance at living a normal life. This was need. As in oxygen and red blood cells and a pumping heart. When she was in his arms she felt nothing of the fear that was slowly encroaching on them. All of that fell away, became a dream she could barely recall. But she could just imagine Cyrus choking on laughter and vomit if she told him any of this.