The hangover took a hammer to my skull and drove the nail right between my eyes.
Groaning, I turned onto my back. The floor was cold and unforgiving beneath me. I'd fallen asleep curled up against the door or passed out might have been a better way to describe it, because I couldn't remember much beyond sobbing pathetically into my lap after Tom had gone. If he'd returned during the night and tried to get in, no doubt my booze-saturated body had acted like the best doorstop known to man.
My stomach churned at the thought he might not have come back. He probably hadn't. Why would he? Who would willingly waltz back into my wasp's nest of venom and hatred?
And why did I care anyway?
Bile billowed upwards into my throat and I held it there, my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to keep it at bay. When I realised it would wait no longer, I scrambled to my feet, yanked the door open and staggered up the dark corridor towards the toilets.
Best efforts aside, the toilets still elicited a stench that did my nausea no favours and I threw myself into the first cubicle, holding myself up against the cubicle walls as I retched until I thought my innards were going to be vomited out with the wine. Before flushing out the bowl, I made sure to pee, grimacing and trying to breathe only out of my mouth. I hated using the toilets at the best of times, and this really wasn't the best of times.
Vik usually kept bottles of water in the cubicles to flush out the toilets, but with the lack of rainwater during the sticky unbearable shroud of summer, the difficulty in finding alternative water supplies and the logistical nightmare of lugging the filled bottles down into the tunnels, we were having to use it sparingly. The bottle kept by the side of this toilet was filled with a cloudy brown liquid that did nothing to ease my queasiness, but I tried not to look at it as I unscrewed the lid and poured it into the bowl. After all, it couldn't be much worse than what I'd already thrown up in there.
At the basin, I rinsed my mouth with water from one of the smaller, safe-to-drink bottles that we'd brought back from Tom and Lena's stash in Spencer House and squeezed a tiny pea-sized blob of toothpaste onto my finger and rubbed it liberally over my teeth. Quickly fastening the latch on the main door, I returned to the basin and used the liquid soap and some of the bottled water to clean myself up. It was the best thing we had to a shower and while it might help to rinse off any dirt and grime of the city, the shame of what I'd done the night before still lingered all over my skin.
In the mirror, I hardly recognised the person staring back at me. Little thread veins had burst on my cheeks where I'd strained to be sick. Dark shadows encircled my eyes. I looked pale and thin and just pure tired of everything. It made me think of her – Old World Evie – the one who'd hidden away, the one who'd been scared of her own shadow, the one who'd gotten used to the excessive drinking and morning-after despair.
Since when had I become her again?
It angered me to look at her, seeing that pathetic beaten expression. That exhaustion in her eyes. That defeat in her posture.
I wasn't her anymore, I wasn't that weak, broken Evie and I sure as Hell wasn't about to let the Grey win. Not now. Not after everything I'd been through to survive.
I pulled my shoulders back and raised my chin, glaring defiantly at my reflection.
That was better. That was more like the Evie I had come to know.
Finishing up, I went back to the room and changed into clothes Jace and I had looted on one of our recent missions, a brief moment of joy when we'd staged an impromptu fashion show and laughed at how ironic it was to snag ourselves designer gear during a time when no one gave a shit what label you were wearing anymore. After scraping my hair back into a ponytail, I laced up my boots and grabbed the two wine bottles, my stomach sinking with the knowledge I'd stolen yet again from the community store. It was one thing to loot expensive designer clothes, but another to steal from my own people. Betraying them was becoming a rather nasty habit and one that I needed to break sooner, rather than later.
I needed everything to go back to the way it had been, before the Grey had invaded my world for the second time.
Before he destroyed everything.
Stashing the bottles in one of the tiny junk rooms, I slipped them in behind a stack of furniture covered in a blanket of thick grey dust. I stood there for a moment, running my finger along the top of one of the stacked tables, looked at the dust particles gathered on my fingertip.
Like bone-dust blown away on the evening breeze.
Like Tom's drained body, crumbling before my eyes.
Tom was dead. Gone. Last night had affirmed that. The creature might look like Tom, sound like him, feel like him, but none of it was real.
I'd been chasing a dream that had died two years ago.
I'd been chasing a ghost.
My Tom was never coming back and the only way I was going to get through this, was by making sure the creature that had stolen Tom's identity went away too and never came back.
I brushed the dust from my fingertips and went to look for the Grey.
***
The Grey was in the main meeting room, standing with Taj, Abby, Jace and Lena.
I wasn't oblivious to the atmosphere noticeably cooling when I entered, nor the strange glances from people as I headed directly towards Tom, but I thought about the Evie I'd seen in the mirror and kept my composure all the way.
Tom raised his head as I approached, his eyes meeting mine. He looked tired and pale. Instantly, I saw the trepidation in his gaze, the way his body tensed as if he expected me to take a run up and punch him square in the stomach.
I smiled. 'Morning,' I said, as breezily as I could, inserting myself in between Tom and Lena. 'Everything okay?'
Taj inclined his head slightly, his gaze searching. Jace and Abby said nothing, and I pretended not to be hurt by it. They'd get over it. I'd win them back. This was a blip. Nothing more.
'Sleep well, Evie?' Taj asked.
At once, I realised I had no idea where Tom had slept or what he had told them as to why he hadn't slept in the same room as his wife. After all, what couple slept apart when they'd already spent two years without each other? I needed to turn this around and quick. Feign innocence. Throw it back to him.
'Uh...yeah, was out like a light,' I said, before turning to Tom and gently touching his wrist, sensing his slight flinch at my touch. 'Where did you get to?' I smiled again, what I hoped was my most reassuring smiles.
Tom's brow crinkled a little, his own smile small and weak and confused.
Come on, play the game Tom, you've done a stellar job until now.
'I... er, couldn't sleep, I went for a wander and ended up talking with Taj until the early hours,' he said.
'Actually, he said you were snoring so bad, he couldn't bear it any longer.' Taj winked.
'Rude,' I retorted, playfully and jerking my head in his direction. 'I think you'll find that it's him who snores. Can't hear myself bloody think sometimes.'
There was a softening, just a slight ease in tension, but I felt it in the air around me, like a drop in pressure, as if someone had just released a valve.
'Tom was just telling us about a potential arms cache in the Saudi Embassy,' Jace interrupted, his expression unreadable, but I could tell he was still pissed at me. 'If we're going to hit the facility in Central Hall, we're going to need all the weapons we can get. What do you think? Worth a shot?'
Any other day and I would have called him out on the obvious challenge. Probably would have called him a twat or something and told him to get over himself, but this was a test. A test to see if I would object to Tom's plan. A test to see if I would defy the group again.
I dug deep and rose to the challenge. 'That's over in Mayfair, right? It's not that far from Green Park Tube again, if my memory serves me well. Curzon Street, I think. It's doable. Not easy, considering how close it is to the Black Zone, but we did Lancaster House so I see no reason why we couldn't at least try. You're right, we're going to need everything we can get our hands on.' I turned to Tom. 'How did you know about the arms store?'
The Grey looked a little stunned and I fought the urge to smile at his shock. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected agreeable Evie. I guess none of them had.
'Uh, there was a guy in the other group I was with over the river, he was a...' He blinked. 'Senior Translator and Research Specialist. He used to deal mostly with military and technical translations for the Ambassador. He said there was a secret cache of arms belonging to the GIP – the Saudi intelligence agency - handguns, silencers, machine guns, rounds of ammunition, even cattle prods. All kept in locked safes.'
'Shit,' I said, genuinely surprised. 'And the Embassy were allowed to have them?'
'Embassies are full of classified info,' Taj said, brushing his hair back from his face. 'They contain all sorts of national secrets that have to be protected at all costs. Although, from what Tom is saying, this kind of weapons store isn't the norm. I suspect it's possibly stockpiled from the CIA-led weapons supply of Syrian rebels during the civil war. If that's the case, we've got ourselves a bloody goldmine inside that Embassy.'
'As long as the codes haven't been changed since Khalid told me about them, or worst-case scenario, someone's already cleaned out the safes,' Tom said, scraping his teeth over his lower lip in the way he always did when he was unsure about something. 'We were going to go there, before... before we got ambushed. I know where the safes are, but Evie's right, you know. It's not going to be easy. In fact, it's a big risk considering the increased amount of Grey presence over on the edge of the Black Zone.'
He was back-pedalling. Was it because I'd agreed so readily? Had he been hoping he could ingratiate himself with the group, just for me to come along and stick a spanner in the works and put myself in an even more precarious position?
'Jace is the one who's right, not me,' I insisted, firmly. 'It's got to be worth a shot. We need all the weapons and ammo we can get. Especially if we might have Levi to deal with too.'
'Evie, I know you're not over the moon about this Levi thing...' Taj started to say, but I stopped him, shaking my head and shooting him an apologetic smile.
'Look, honestly it's okay,' I said. 'The whole thing just freaked me out a bit. I never expected to see them look so desperate.I guess it just made me think about whether that could be us, you know? Give it a month or two and maybe we'd be in the same situation? Plus, I hated what he did to you...' I touched a hand to Tom's waist. 'I made it personal, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, everyone, okay?'
The tension seemed to roll off of Abby's shoulders, her whole upper body deflating like a balloon. She exhaled and grinned wryly. 'Was starting to get worried about you there for a minute, gotta admit. Good to know you're back on track, girl.'
'I was never off it,' I replied, turning my attention to Jace. I needed him onside. Out of everyone, I needed him back the most.
In a typically nonchalant Jace gesture, he raised one brow and nodded, which was probably the best reaction I could have wished for when it came to him. 'Welcome back, Lara.'
I grinned back, feeling the relief flood me in waves.
'Okay,' said Lena. 'Then we do this, yes? When?'
'Today?' I suggested. 'What's the point of waiting?'
Taj's eyes lit up. 'Great. I'm going to propose Gav and Len come with us, give us more of a chance to carry as much back as we can. Anyone object?'
We all shook our heads, and the plan was agreed. Everyone began to drift away to prepare for the mission, and I felt Tom's presence beside me every second we waited there. When everyone was finally out of earshot, I turned so I could look up into his face.
'What are you playing at?' he said, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. 'Why are you being so agreeable to all of this?'
The bewilderment was rolling off him, along with the tension that hadn't left judging by the way he rubbed his palms over his knuckles, trying to massage it out of his bones.
'If I'm agreeable, it's because I agree,' I replied, with a shrug. 'We do need weapons. If what you're saying is true, then it's a good call.'
'You think it's a trick,' he said, accusingly, his eyes narrowing.
'No, Tom, I don't.' I made a big deal of letting out an exhausted sigh. Just the right amount of surrender. 'Look, I don't want to keep doing this, okay? I don't want to butt heads with you. I'm sorry... about last night.'
Tom flinched, heat creeping into his cheeks.
'What happened... I was drunk, okay?' I pretended to be embarrassed, tapping into the pain and letting my eyes mist over. 'I'm a mess right now. I know I am. This whole thing has been... well, it's been really hard, and I just got confused for a bit. It's not easy when you look so much like him.'
I let my gaze wander over his face, touching every inch of skin, the curve of his lips, the line of his jaws, the ears he hated so much.
'You really do look the same, you know?' I bit my lip and looked down at my feet, before gazing back into his face, suppressing my glee at just how utterly lost he seemed. 'I'm not proud of myself, okay? I know what I did last night was weird – really weird – and I can't really explain it, other than to say I'm clearly not as good a drinker as I thought, but I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. In fact...'
I let the words die on my lips, doing my best to portray my inner struggle.
'In fact, what?' he said.
I tugged on my lip again. Pensive. Troubled. Keep it up, Evie.
'I'm not saying I one-hundred-percent believe your story,' I said. 'Because I don't. I still think there's something you're not telling me about being on the run from your own kind. But, there's no reason for you to have kept up the pretence this long. If you are lying, and you're still one of them, then we'd all be dead by now, wouldn't we?'
Tom swallowed, a visible discomfort that told me I was on the right tracks with this.
There was more to his story than he'd said. There had always been something that didn't quite add up to me, and whatever it was, whether he was lying or not, I was going to make damn sure that he didn't get away with whatever plan he had cooked up in that vile, twisted head of his.
'This doesn't make any sense,' he said. 'You can't go from hating me, to this?'
I smiled thinly, doing my best to keep the venom out of my voice. 'I never said I didn't hate you. Of course, I hate you. You killed Tom and took everything from me. Nothing's changed. I'm just willing to put it to one side for now, to see if this mission of yours pans out. If the arms cache is where you say it is, then we move onto the next step. I'll still be keeping an eye on you, just like before.'
Tom said nothing for a moment, his gaze running over my face as if he hoped to spot something, anything, that would betray me.
'Okay,' he said, finally. 'Fair enough. I guess it's the most I could ask for, considering.' He rubbed his hand over his chin, still looking troubled. 'I'm going to go and get changed. We should leave soon.'
He was still wearing the same clothes as last night. Of course, he was. I tried to rid myself of the memory of my hand fumbling with the button on his jeans. My fingers creeping inside. Reaching for him.
I would never reach for him again.
Tom went to walk away and then stopped, close to my side. Close enough for me to breathe him in. Close enough to almost make me doubt what I was planning to do on this mission of his.
'I know you can't ever forgive me, Eve,' he said. 'I don't expect your forgiveness for what I took from you, but I will prove to you that I'm not what you think I am. I will prove that you can learn to trust me, in time.' He brushed his fingertips over my wrist, and it was my turn to flinch. 'I meant what I said last night. I would never hurt you. I couldn't.'
I pulled my arm back, gingerly rubbing the spot where he'd touched me as I watched him walk away.
Tom had always been good with words. Not just because he was a teacher, but because he knew how to speak to people. He knew how to get the best out of them. And, most importantly, he knew how to make you feel loved. Wanted. Like you were his whole world.
The Grey might have been able to harness Tom's way with words, but they meant nothing falling from his mouth. They were inconsequential. Meaningless. Weak.
Like bone-dust blown away on the evening breeze.
Which was exactly what the Grey would become once I'd finally done what I had vowed to do at the start of all of this.
When I'd finally killed him and laid Tom's ghost to rest, once and for all.