he admitted. ‘But Victor’s right, we can’t fight them all by ourselves.’
Evie took a deep breath, her whole body shaking with pent-up rage. Did Ash have a point? She thought of the map in the other room and of the photographs of all those dismembered bodies. She thought of all the people who were missing children or brothers and sisters, and she thought of all the innocent people who would die if they didn’t stop this army of unhumans from wreaking havoc on the city.
Finally she dropped her arm. The blade smacked against her side, its tip scraping the ground. Ash studied her for a beat, warily, before he released his grip.
Victor straightened up, lifting his chin, a smile creeping across his lips.
‘Just know,’ Evie said to him, anger boiling in her veins, though her voice stayed icy cold and steady, ‘that one day I am going to stand and watch you die.’
Chapter 13
‘You’re still living here?’ Evie asked, as Ash pulled into the parking garage of a seemingly abandoned warehouse building.
‘Yes, for the time being,’ Ash answered. ‘We’ve got nowhere else to go.’
Evie climbed out of the car, taking in the echoing vault-like space. She half-expected to see Cyrus striding towards her, a sword in his hand and a smirk plastered across his face, but only ominous silence met them.
Cyrus’s playboy pad was exactly as it had been eight weeks before. Evie glanced up at the ropes slung from the rafters and at the punch bags dangling forlornly from the roof, tensed for an attack that was never going to come. Her eyes tracked automatically to the weapons cabinet by the door. Its doors were locked but she already knew what lay behind them. An entire armoury – enough firepower and weapons to open a military museum. And not a single one of them could subdue an Original.
The atmosphere was so tense between her and Ash that not even the shadow blade Vero had stolen from Victor could have cut through it. Evie avoided looking at them, instead crossing to the windows that ran the whole length of the room. It felt strange being back here, in a place so swimming with memories of both Cyrus and Lucas that Evie could feel their presence thick as tar in the air. How did Vero and Ash stand it?
In the window ahead of her she saw Ash walking towards her, tentatively, as though approaching a coiled cobra. He hovered behind her shoulder and their eyes met in the glass, Evie’s gaze laser beamed, Ash’s steady and even.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment.
Evie wheeled around, unable to contain her rage any longer. ‘I once asked you how many unhumans you needed to kill before you’d feel like you had your revenge.’
Ash frowned but his frown quickly gave way to comprehension as he remembered the conversation she was talking about. He and Evie had been sitting together in Cyrus’s car just before they had gone hunting for the first time all together.
‘And you didn’t answer me,’ Evie continued. ‘But I know exactly how many unhumans I need to kill to get mine.’ She paused just a beat. ‘None.’
Ash’s frown deepened.
‘I don’t need to kill a single unhuman,’ Evie growled. ‘I just need to kill one human.’
‘I understand,’ Ash nodded, ‘and, like I said, I won’t stand in your way once this is over. I’ll even help you, if you want or need my help when the time comes. And so will Vero. But right now we need him.’
Evie glowered at him but he held her gaze, unfazed. Finally, he walked away, following Vero down the hallway towards the bedrooms.
Evie turned angrily back to the window. She could see herself reflected in the glass as clearly as if she was standing in front of a full-length mirror. It was the first time she’d seen herself in two months and she looked like a vengeful ghost hanging outside in the cold night air. Her skin was deathly pale and she looked gaunt. Her pupils were two bottomless black pits. It was no surprise people in Riverview had been whispering that she was a drug addict. She looked completely strung out.
Unable to stand looking at herself for a moment longer she walked over to the sofa and dropped down onto it, feeling exhaustion claim her. Her body felt as solid and unwieldy as a punchbag, her skull sealed in concrete. She hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. Slowly, she hauled her bag onto her lap