Chapter 4
Evie stood on Jocelyn’s veranda staring at the door. She didn’t bother knocking. She didn’t need to. She knew that Jocelyn – being a Hunter – would have sensed her from half a mile away. And even as she stood there hesitating, she could hear footsteps, slow and heavy, heading her way.
The door fell open. Jocelyn stood there, her face rumpled and her clothing creased, as if she’d just been startled awake from a nap.
She stared at Evie for a beat and then nodded, as though she’d been expecting her for a while.
Evie felt her nostrils flare in response. She sunk her heels into the veranda to stop herself from swinging around and leaving.
‘Do you want to come in?’ Jocelyn asked her.
Evie didn’t. But now she’d come this far she figured she might as well. She edged past the older woman, feeling a familiar jolt, a buzzing in her sternum as if an invisible cord connected them.
It was a connection she wished she could sever. It made her jumpy. She hadn’t felt that jolt in a while now. Not since that day at the Bradbury building when everything had ended. That had been the last time she’d been around any Hunters. Because that’s what it was – that buzzing feeling – it was what all Hunters felt around each other. Cyrus had called it chemistry, had claimed it was part of an undeniable attraction she and he had for one another. She’d told him that all he was feeling were the tidal waves of irritation bouncing off her.
‘Would you like a drink of something?’ Jocelyn asked.
‘Um, no, thank you,’ Evie answered, surprised by how cold and official her voice sounded – like a cop come to deliver bad news.
‘Are you sure?’ Jocelyn asked. She seemed nervous, jittery almost, her hands refusing to settle in one place and her voice ratcheted several notches too high. ‘I can make some fresh coffee. Or something to eat? You look like you could use something to warm you up.’
Evie realised only then that her hair was plastered to her skull and a cold trickle of water was worming its way down her spine. How had she not noticed that it had been raining? Her clothes were stuck to her body and her hands were chilled to the bone, the tips of her fingers red and numb.
‘I didn’t come here for tea,’ Evie answered, ignoring the chill and hoping the coldness of her body carried all the way to her eyes. ‘I came here for information.’
Jocelyn pursed her lips and then, after a beat, nodded. ‘Let me at least get you something to dry your hair with,’ she said, moving quickly past Evie to a closet at the end of the hallway. She pulled out a small towel and handed it to her.
Evie took it reluctantly and started absently patting the ends of her hair. When she was done Jocelyn led the way into the front room.
Two overstuffed sofas covered in knitted blankets took up most of the space. Paintings of what appeared to be foreign landscapes hung on the walls. Books filled the bookcases, but the mantelpiece was bare. There were no photographs on display anywhere. Jocelyn had no family, a choice she’d made which had once seemed tragic to Evie and which now seemed damn sensible.
‘Why are you still here?’ Evie asked, rounding suddenly on Jocelyn. ‘I don’t need protecting anymore. There’s no reason for you to stay in Riverview.’
Jocelyn seemed taken aback by the question. She took a while to compose herself, staring at her hands, which were now clasped in her lap. ‘You’re still my responsibility,’ she finally answered, looking up.
Evie rolled her eyes. ‘Oh please.’
‘Your parents …’ Jocelyn began.
‘Again, oh please,’ Evie shouted, cutting her off. ‘You betrayed them. Don’t you dare talk about them.’
‘I didn’t betray them,’ Jocelyn burst out, anger sparking like flint and flaming across her face.
Evie grimaced. ‘Well, why didn’t you stop Victor from killing them then? You said they were your friends.’
Jocelyn took a deep breath. ‘Evie, you of all people should know that we can’t always protect the people we love. That sometimes, despite our best efforts, we fail.’
Evie’s legs actually went from under her. One moment she’d been standing in front of Jocelyn and the next she was sitting on the sofa, staring at her knees, the room spinning wildly.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Jocelyn said, pulling a blanket from off the back of the sofa and draping it over Evie’s shoulders.
‘If you knew what Victor had done,’ Evie whispered, gripping hold of the sofa arm, ‘how could you let him take me when I was a baby, how could you let him come back and train me to be a Hunter?’
Jocelyn drew back. ‘Evie, please,’ she said. ‘I asked you once to try to understand. I’m asking you again. I was barely twenty-two. I’d seen what Victor was capable of. I was terrified of him.’
‘And you also wanted the way through closed,’ Evie reminded her.
Jocelyn shrugged, her chin lifting. ‘Yes. I’m not going to lie. I wanted the way through to close. We all did! The realms needed to be severed – unhumans don’t belong in this realm. But believe me when I say I had no idea that it would involve you getting hurt. If I had known about the prophecy – if I had understood what it meant – I would never have let Victor near you, I swear.’
‘You let him get away though. When Lucas and I left him tied up in his store, you let him escape.’
‘No,’ Jocelyn interrupted. ‘He was already gone by the time I got there. I had to take care of Risper’s body before it could be found.’
Evie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the image that arose of Risper lying in bloodied, scattered pieces across the alley. It didn’t make a jot of difference though. She could see it with her eyes open and with them shut.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jocelyn finally said. ‘I’m sorry for my part. For making you believe that the White Light was you. I thought it was true. And I’m sorry about Lucas – I know what he meant to you. And I know …’
Evie shot Jocelyn a look so fierce that she fell instantly silent. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Jocelyn finally worked up the courage to speak again. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘that he loved you and that he wanted this.’
‘Oh really?’ Evie shouted, leaping up from the sofa, unsteady on her feet. ‘He wanted this, did he? He wanted to be dead?’
Jocelyn winced as if Evie had kicked her. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘But he wanted you to live. And he was prepared to die for that.’
Evie’s shoulders collapsed. Her vision blurred and she whipped around so that Jocelyn wouldn’t see the tears that were threatening to spill.
For an instant it was as if she could feel Lucas’s fingers biting into the flesh of her arms, holding her tight, trying to shake some strength back into her. She shuddered away the thought.
He’d promised her that everything was going to be OK – that he wasn’t going to die.
He’d lied. And now she was alone. She ground her teeth. There was no point dwelling on what had happened. She couldn’t bring Lucas back. She couldn’t bring her parents back. But she could get revenge for their deaths.
Evie squared her shoulders and blinked away the tears. Then she turned back to Jocelyn.
This was why she’d come to see her, after all.