48. Protecting the Gang

Zahira woke up with a pounding headache. She rolled over and abruptly fell off the sofa.

"Ow!" She croaked. This was a miserable start to the day. The events of last night, steadily returned to her. She groaned.

Gingerly, Zahira stood up and scanned the apartment. She was most definitely alone. Orion had left. Zahira touched her lips. Had that really happened? Had they really kissed?

She looked down at herself. She was fully dressed with her shoes still on. It seemed that Orion had left her to it after she'd fallen asleep. She cringed with embarrassment. Only drunk-her would have been bold enough to make the first move. She'd basically thrown herself at him!

Zahra kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot around the apartment, exploring. Orion had been searching the place last night. She sighed. That was why he'd asked her on a 'date', he'd wanted to search for the Mad Dog's gear in her apartment. Fortunately, he wouldn't have found anything. She wasn't currently storing any of the gang's goods.

Zahira sat down on the loo with her head in her hands. She'd been used, and the worse thing was – she hadn't even had the chance to get angry about it. Because Orion was long gone now. Shame cut deep. She should never have called him. What was the worst that could have happened if she hadn't called? Nothing.

She'd been stupid to fall into his trap. She'd been stupid to kiss him.

Well, she never would again. If he came to the café, she'd ignore him - she resolutely decided. Orion had fooled her once. He wouldn't fool her again. She wanted to forget about last night, for the rest of her life.

So, of course, she thought about it all day...

With grudging slowness, a week went by.

A week since her 'date' and a week since Orion had come to the café. Zahira looked out for him every day, trying to prepare for how she'd act. But every day he failed to show. She told herself that this was a good thing.

"Jaz has said we can take home some of the damaged cakes." Cesar told them cheerfully. "Markus, fancy sharing a cake with me?" He asked. Markus was undecided.

"Show me the options."

"We've got two chocolate slices that fell into the banoffee so are a bit banoffee-ish. There's a lemon slice that was cut too thin to sell. And a coffee slice that will go stale soon. Zahira, do you fancy the coffee slice?"

She shook her head.

"No, thank you." She replied automatically. She didn't want to take a slice away from anyone else.

"I thought coffee was your favourite?"

Zahira was touched that he'd remembered.

"I'll take the coffee slice." Ana chipped in and Zahira was instantly happy that she hadn't taken the slice. She'd have hated to take the piece that Ana wanted.

"Markus?" Cesar prodded.

"Let's share a slice off chocolate banoffee-ish." Markus decided. Cesar handed Markus the slice.

"Feed me."

"Feed yourself."

"No, I want you to feed me."

Markus shook his head.

"I'm cutting this slice in half."

Cesar continued to pout and whine as Markus carefully divided their portions.

Zahira pulled her bag out from her locker and quickly retrieved her phone to glance at the screen. No messages or missed calls. She told herself that she wasn't expecting any. But the stab of disappointment was hard to ignore. He'd have her number after she'd called him that evening. Was he really not going to message at all?

Of course, she didn't want him to message. She reminded herself. It was just... annoying that he hadn't. And it was weighing down on her already low confidence. Zahira stuffed her phone back into her bag and pulled on her coat.

"See you tomorrow guys." She mumbled. The others waved as she headed off.

**

Six Days Ago...

Castle Hill was bustling with activity, the city enjoying a Saturday with good weather. Pigeons scattered as crowds ambled past food stalls, stopping to haggle with vendors offering jewellery, paintings and books. Musicians busked, trying to coax people to come closer as they hung out in the rare winter sun. No one there had any idea what was being planned.

"The lads are getting nervous about the Star Immortal." Dante had reported to his boss the day before. "He's interfering with business. We need to deal with him."

Slowly, grim-faced, Ezekiel had nodded. This thing needed to be done.

And now, the Mad Dog was watching the thoroughfare of Castle Hill, hidden from view in an apartment's upper-storey window. Ezekiel looked through the sight of his rifle, his gaze cold and dispassionate. This was just business.

He'd done it enough times for Skelrun over the years. Ezekiel's lip twitched, the old scar tissue dragging slightly. Before, when he'd killed a person – he'd been obeying an order. This was the first life he'd take following no one's orders.

Ezekiel spotted Orion walking along the street below. The handsome man was being accosted by a group of women – asking to take a picture with him. Orion smiled charmingly at the ladies, the low sun glinting off his sunglasses.

Ezekiel gritted his teeth. Orion had sworn to rid the world of monsters. So, it was up to a monster to slay him first. This wasn't personal. It was about survival.

The Mad Dog's finger was resting on the trigger. The girls giggled at something Orion said to them.

Their laughter was about to stop.

Ezekiel pulled the trigger. His heart skipped a beat as he waited to see his prey fall.

Orion jerked suddenly. The Star Immortal yanked off his sunglasses and pulled back his jacket to stare down at his bleeding chest. His glasses clattered against the ground, slipping from his grasp, and Orion stumbled backwards. Pigeons took off in flight and the girls screamed – stunned. People ducked for cover, alert in case more shootings followed.

With practised speed, Ezekiel quickly dismantled and packed up his rifle. He took one last glance at the street, about to retreat from the window, but then froze in disbelief.

Orion was glowing. His skin seemed to sparkle like a diamond and a crowd was forming around him, marveling at the sight.

"What is he?"

"He's a star."

"He's the Star Immortal!" The crowd exclaimed, recognising the city's hero. "He's healing!"

People's gazes were looking accusingly up at the windows and Ezekiel beat a hasty retreat, his lip twitching. He was out of the apartment in a flash and he followed the river away from Castle Hill.

As he ducked through a delivery yard, Ezekiel scratched his tattooed face. How could he protect the gang from an immortal enemy?

Could he?

Or was this the beginning of the end? The end of monsters running these streets. And the end of him.