love lost between the three of them before and there certainly wasn’t now that Cyrus was dead. In their eyes it should have been Evie who died. She wished she could tell them how much she wished it had been her also, but it was too late for that.
Evie paused, suddenly realising something. If Vero and Ash weren’t fighting these monsters, who else would? The police weren’t going to have a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping a single Thirster, and not even an army could take on a handful of Originals.
She started pacing her room. Surely there had to be other Hunters out there. Ones that she didn’t know about perhaps – rogue Hunters like Vero and Ash, Hunters who weren’t part of the official Hunter clan, who weren’t purebloods like her. It couldn’t just be Cyrus who had led a band of rogues. And surely, if there were others, they would know what was going on, and would do something about it?
As she paced, Evie’s attention kept flicking between the newspaper lying on the bed and the piece of paper tacked to the wall with Victor’s name on it.
It was early evening by the time Evie judged it safe to re-enter the kitchen. The last of the knitting circle had left and her mother was clearing up after them.
‘Do you want something to eat?’ she asked Evie.
‘No, I’m good, thanks,’ Evie mumbled.
She watched her mum out of the corner of her eye, weighing the opportunity, and deciding to wait until the best teapot and creamer were safely stowed on the sideboard before she began.
‘So, mum,’ she started, clearing her throat.
‘Yes, sweetheart?’ her mother answered, closing the cabinet and turning to Evie.
Evie saw the weight of expectation in her mother’s eyes, the hope that Evie might be about to start explaining what had happened eight weeks ago, and for a split second it almost all came tumbling out of her.
Lucas died. She very nearly said it. It was right there on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself at the last moment. She winced and took a deep breath, letting the pain dull to a savage ache inside. Her mother was still watching her expectantly, eyebrows raised.
Evie opened her mouth to try again. She had practised this in her bedroom. This time she wasn’t going to run off without leaving a note. This time she was going to tell her mother to her face where she was going.
‘I need to tell you something,’ she began.
Her mother’s face fell and her gaze flew to Evie’s stomach. Evie groaned inwardly. She knew her mother was thinking, Pregnant, oh dear lord, she’s pregnant. Perfect, Evie thought, that’s just what she needed her mother to believe. How long would it take before the knitting circle started crocheting baby booties?
‘I …’ she hurried on, then stopped again, unable to find the words.
Her mother waited. ‘You what?’ she asked after several more seconds of silence.
Evie could see the worry building, the panic flaring behind her mother’s eyes, but just as she was about to tell her she was heading to LA for a few days to see a friend, her attention was snatched by something outside. Her hearing funnelled and her eyes flew to the back door.
There was someone outside in the dark, hiding. There – a footstep – so light it could have been mistaken for a leaf falling. Then, almost simultaneously she became aware of a familiar tugging sensation at her sternum.
There was a Hunter outside.
‘Evie?’
She blinked at her mother. ‘Huh?’
Her focus was fully on the footsteps, which were growing more distant as they headed through the orchard and down towards the river. She tried to calculate who it might be. It wasn’t Jocelyn. There was no reason for Jocelyn to be skulking through the orchard at the back of the house when she could just walk right in the door, no questions asked.
Vero and Ash didn’t know where she lived, as far as she knew, and they weren’t likely to be paying a social call on her of all people. Which left only one other Hunter she could think of. Victor.
Evie brushed past her mother, already scanning the counter top for a weapon and seeing only her mother’s best teapot.
‘Where are you going?’ her mother shouted after her.
‘I need to borrow a hammer,’ she called over her shoulder as she made for the stairs to the basement.
‘That’s what you wanted to talk to me about? Why didn’t you just say