pushing so hard for them to make it through the gateway. Soon enough the Originals would figure out that Evie hadn’t died – that the White Light was still alive and the prophecy wasn’t fulfilled, and they would try to find her.
The only thing that frightened him more was that Evie would discover that the way through was open as well, and that she would try once again to close it.
Chapter 28
Evie was still on Cyrus’s mind in the morning as he rode his bike over to his mum’s store. She was weighing on him like a hangover, except without the fun memories from the night before that would make it all worthwhile. He had a headache and was feeling groggy but he tried to tell himself that it was due to going cold turkey on his meds and nothing whatsoever to do with the fact he’d been awake all night worrying about her.
She’d told him she was still in love with Lucas. That she would always love him. But really? Would she always? Wouldn’t she at some point need her needs met, so to speak, and in a way that a dead man couldn’t manage? He paused for a couple of minutes, his imagination getting the better of him.
Man, he needed to get a grip. He’d obviously had his pick of women if the notches in the bedpost were anything to go by, so why was he fixating on this one? If he wanted to check all his parts were still in working order – that the amnesia hadn’t spread to the furthest reaches of his body – then he could call Darcy or whatever her name was and ask her if she fancied taking him for a road test.
He thought about the waitress. She was pretty, he supposed. And he’d tasted that cupcake before. But he had no desire to taste it again. Damn it. He thought about it some more. Nope. No desire. Because he was fixated on someone else. He had to be in love with a girl with armour-plated emotions who was obsessed with a ghost and likely would be for the foreseeable future. Whoa. He slowed up on the bike, almost swerving into the kerb. Where had the L-word come from? He tried it out in his head again, testing it on the tip of his tongue, and this time almost swerved into oncoming traffic.
Crap. No. That wasn’t possible. Or was it? Maybe he had been in love with her. Why else had he chosen to die in her place? Had he been that kind of guy though? Even now, still not knowing who the hell he really was or had been, he knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who tossed the love word around. Just as he would have known straight off the bat if someone had tried to dress him in a button-down shirt and chinos, or take him to Chariots Roman Spa, that he wasn’t that kind of guy either.
He parked outside his mum’s store. Yeah, it still felt weird using that word too. Mum. She was young to be a mum. But Vero had told him she’d been a kid, younger than he was now, when she got pregnant and ran from that guy Victor and the rest of the Hunters. The thought made him kick the bike stand harder than he’d intended, tearing a chunk out of the asphalt.
He tried to peer through the glass and beyond, at the display of books in the window to see if Darcy was inside the store. He’d rather avoid her if he could. Making small talk when he could no longer remember topics to talk small about was problematic. And he didn’t want to have to make any more excuses about why he hadn’t called her. As if amnesia wasn’t enough of an excuse.
But it was early, the store was still shut, the lights dimmed. His mum had told him to come, so he guessed she must be inside in her office. When he tried the door, he saw it was only on the latch. He stepped inside, checking his surroundings, feeling the low voltage charge he felt around the other Hunters – it was dimmer around his mum, most amplified when he was around Evie.
His mum wasn’t in her office. She was sitting at a table by the counter with a tiny espresso cup by her elbow and a pile of books stacked neatly in front of her. She looked