ME & THE MONSTER

Claudine Cox, 2023

1
 Copyright © Claudine Cox 2023

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real
persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted

in any forms or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,
without express written permission of the publisher.

2
 Chapter 1
Good & Evil

The night I met him, Vanessa lied to me.

“Girl,” she said. “About time you returned. I've been so miserable this past
week without you. I had nobody to bitch with, nobody. Don't you ever get food
poisoning again, okay?”
I saluted, with a grin. “Nossir.”
We'd both been working here at Anker's, a large pub in Soho, for the last couple
of years. Although the job meant long sleepless nights and occasional encounters with
drunks, it was nothing we couldn't handle. And we needed the money – Vanessa was a
struggling uni student and I was a firefighter trainee at the Royal Park Fire Station in
London. She was nineteen, the same age as me. Thank badness we'd hit it off right from
the start.
“Would you mind fetching some clean glasses from the kitchen, Rae?” Vanessa
asked, flopping down on a stool. “Mrs T. wants me to go over the accounts.”
She didn't have a clue about my true nature, of course. None of them did, maybe
except for Mum's worshippers, I guess. And I wasn't sure if even they thought we were
just nutters.
“Course,” I said. “I reckon that woman still can't believe her luck, having a
Mathematics student for an employee.”
Vanessa chuckled. “It sure comes in handy for her.” She stared up at me a few
seconds later, astonished. “You back already? How's that even possible, Rae? You got
powers or what?”
Oops.
I hadn't been discreet enough, again. It tended to happen whenever I was in a
rush.
I forced an airy laugh. “I wish.”
Little did Vanessa imagine that she'd hit the nail on the head. Supernatural speed
is one of the upsides of having demonic genes, you see.
“So, how have things been around here this week? Anything interesting to
report?” I asked, trying to look like a normal-ish person and willing myself to stay still.
I was feeling restless and in need of a run, as a matter of fact; this morning's
training session at the fire station had been rather light for my taste.
“Doesn't it ever bother you, possibly not having enough muscle for the job?
You're only a small chick, after all, Carrows,” my fellow trainees usually said.

3
 I was smaller than the majority of students, but as a demon, I was one of the
fastest runners too. I'd always excelled at sports in school. I'd joined the after-school
athletics club and had won all the races in PE. I collected all the tacky plastic trophies,
which I'd proudly arrange on the shelves in my bedroom. It was the one thing that kept
the bullying slightly at bay. So it made sense when, fresh out of high school, I'd
summoned courage and announced to my parents I wanted to enrol in the fire academy.
Let me just say that they hadn't been too pleased about it.
“Firefighter?” they asked, in dismay. “But won't you have to – rescue people?
Find lost cats? That sort of thing. Isn't it too ...” – a hint of embarrassment in their
voices – “selfless? We've talked through this before, dear. Maybe you should try your
hand at something else?”
“Like what?” I muttered. “You don't want me to be a vet either.”
I'd longed to be a vet since I was eight and my neighbour Sophia had had me
over for tea at hers one day after classes. Her elderly Yorkshire terrier Rudolph had
sprung off the sofa and broken his leg. We'd both burst into hysterical tears and had run
all the way to the nearest vet's. The vet had cleaned the wound and tenderly bandaged
the dog's leg; Sophia had felt dizzy at the sight of blood and had to wait outside, but I'd
marvelled at it. I wanted to be like that, I decided. I'd be like that one day, skilled and
gentle and wise.
Guess what? My parents had said a huge, fat, adamant No.
Mum had pointed a finger at me, gun-like.
“That – empathy of yours,” she said, in a low, disgusted voice, as if she were
being forced to say a particularly vulgar swear word. “I don't understand where it's
coming from. We didn't raise you to be like that, Rae. And please don't go on repeating
those things in public.” With other demons, I guess she meant. “It might cause a few
raised eyebrows.”
“You could try politics, perhaps?” Dad suggested. He grinned. “Cheat, steal, lie,
repeat. Nice and simple.”
I hadn't wanted to disappoint them. How could I, when I owed everything to
them? I'd duly applied to Birmingham University for a double major in History and
Politics, but I'd found it so unspeakably dull I'd dropped out after the first semester.
No, if I couldn't be a vet, I'd be a firefighter. Much as I loved my family, they'd
have to put up with it.
I blinked back to reality. I took a handful of coins from a dreadlocked guy, then
handed a beer over to him. It was barely nine o'clock, and the bar was already crowding
with people.
“Things here?” Vanessa shrugged, in answer to my question. “Same ol', same
ol'.”
She was lying. Blatantly so. I noticed the excited little gleam that danced in her
brown eyes. Her hands were rapping on her thigh and her Vans trainers swung to and
fro.
I knew then, without a doubt. Something was up.
I could hardly hear her over the din. Live music nights were always a success,
but tonight was different, somehow. I could feel it in the glowing faces that surrounded
us, in the warm stench of sweat and cigarettes. In the loud laughter. The crowd throbbed
like a single, expectant being.
“Vanessa?” I asked. “What's going on tonight?”
She smiled at me then, a wicked, gap-toothed smile. I should have guessed,
really. There was only one thing Vanessa liked better than numbers.
Men.

4
“Oh, Rae,” she said, and pointed. “Him.”

5
 Chapter 2
Trouble

The man who would later become the love of my life stood at the centre of the stage. He
looked about my age, maybe a little older, and he cradled a guitar in his arms. A sudden
hush fell over the throng. Then the man plucked a chord and began to sing.
I’d like to be clear about something: I grew up in a household with no music, if
you exclude the eerie background music Mum plays on her phone during Sect
Evenings. And I can barely mumble my way through a song; I’m so tone-deaf it’s
almost a talent of sorts. But despite this, or maybe just because of it, I knew that he was
good. Not just good. Exceptionally so.
I listened to him, and something inside my chest ached. His voice was deep and
dark and rippled through the air like silk underwater. It felt like honey in my bones. I
wouldn’t have been able to tell you what the song was about, nor what the singer looked
like. I didn’t notice, not really.
Not then.
Not yet.
At the moment he was only a voice, bodiless, weightless … a bright, gossamer
thing trapped in a jar … I’d let it out into the air to flutter when the nights became too
long and the silences too bitter …
I looked back at the glaring woman waiting for her drink.
“Right,” I croaked out, trying to dislodge the huge lump that had formed in my
throat. “Here’s your rum and coke, madam.”

***

“You like those guys, Rae?” Ben Davies asked.

“Who?” I said, even though I knew perfectly well who he meant.
The music had shifted into a pounding rhythm, a heady drum-and-bass thud that
reverberated off the walls and echoed in my chest. And over the music, he was singing.
The throng of people below the stage had gone wild, cheering and clapping above their
heads and stamping their feet to the beat.
Turns out tone-deaf me wasn’t immune to the music either. Grinning, I grabbed
Vanessa’s wrist and twirled her around.
She let out a startled squeal, then yelled into my ear: “They’re called Mandrake.
The band. They came last Friday when you were ill. Shit, you should’ve seen it. People
went mental.”
Ben turned halfway around and darted a disparaging look over his shoulder.
“Can’t see what’s so special about them,” he muttered. “Weird sort of vegetable name
they’ve given themselves.”

6
 There was something of the vegetable about Ben Davies himself. He looked like
an anaemic stick of celery. He had a beige smile and a beige face and wore exquisitely
tasteful beige clothes. There was nothing particularly awful about him. There was
nothing particularly interesting about him either. He was merely a background sort of
person, utterly unmemorable.
“And that singer bloke seems rather full of himself, don’t you think?” said Ben.
Vanessa giggled, vicious as a hyena. “I’d kill for a taste of him. Eh, Rae?”
“Er.”
“Oops, I forgot you two were an item now.”
I heard Ben say: “Maybe”, at the same time I declared, “We’re not.”
A small silence followed. Talk about awkward.
Ben inclined his head. “Rae’s right. We’re just getting to know each other.
We’ve no rush. No rush. I’m going to get some air, ladies. Call me if you need
anything.”
With a sigh, Vanessa watched him leave. “He’s the perfect match for you, Rae.
And I’m not just saying so because he’s my friend, mind. Give him a chance, go on.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’ve only been out on a few dates, queen matchmaker. It’s
early days. Besides, I haven’t quite made up my mind yet.”
“Why not? Look, he’s rich, he’s polite. Such a gentleman, too.”
And he bores me to death. He bores me to death with his lectures and his careful
politeness.
“I don’t know, V. Hey, which song are they playing now?”
The diversion tactic worked, much to my relief. My friend and I craned our
heads to the side and stared out at the stage. Only then did I look at the singer properly.
He wore a black leather jacket and a glowing, effortless confidence. Then the tempo of
the song changed again, and so did his voice. It became raw, ruthless. Rougher. A chorus
of deafening female squeals rang out, a shrill counterpart to his bass.
“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Vanessa said.
She was bright red in the face, something I suspected was mirrored in my own. I
nodded, unable to keep the grin off my lips.
He was strutting around the stage, mike in hand, feet nimble, this man with the
dark-gold voice, the lights reflected on the black leather. He was smiling. Slyly, slowly.
The sweat on his face glistened. His whole body responded to the music. Arched,
twisted, rolled. I watched the curving red flesh of his mouth as he sang about trouble,
and something roared awake inside of me.
I could have eaten him alive.

***

“What time are you done?” Ben asked, elbows on the bar.
I sat down on the stool and wiped another glass dry. My feet were hurting. Trust
me when I say that waitressing isn’t for sissies.
“In an hour, more or less. At one, at any rate.”
“Great,” Ben said, and he put his hand on my arm. “Hey, do you want me to help
you with that?”
“It’s okay.”
“Here, let me.”
“No, really, I –"
He slipped behind the bar and cut me off. “I don’t mind in the slightest.”

7
 He smiled at me, polite to the point of obsequiousness. I felt a sudden, guilt-
ridden flicker of annoyance. I told myself not to be ungrateful: Ben was a kind person,
and he had my best interests at heart. Well, at least I thought he did. It wasn’t his fault if
he got carried away sometimes.
“The sooner we get this done and over with, the sooner we can go get a drink,”
he said. “And we could go out for lunch tomorrow. Anywhere you fancy. My treat.”
We worked in semi-comfortable silence for some time, before Ben spotted
someone in the flurry of people jostling past the bar. His face lit up.
“I’ve seen an old mate over there, Rae. I’ll be right back.”
“No problem.”
It was as Ben was wandering off that I saw him. He was sauntering forward,
hands in pockets, shoulders back. He winked at the yelling people in the crowd, at the
gaggles of girls that tugged at his sleeve. But he kept on walking. Towards the bar, I
realised with a sudden jolt, and my heart started to bang in my ribcage.
Towards me.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Why the nerves? Think a guy like that will so much as glance at you? a little
voice said in my head, and I knew I was being stupid and tried to hush it silent, but it
whispered on, taunting. I called the voice in my head Lisa, and she drove me mad. He’ll
sneer at you and laugh at you and think you’re –
“Good evening,” the stranger said.
I noticed with pleasure that his voice was just as deep and melodic as when he
sang. His hair was very black. I hadn’t realised until now that he was rather tall; he
towered over me, and I felt shorter and dumpier than ever. I wished I was one of those
tall girls who oozed glamour and confidence and who didn’t ever resemble a small,
scared mouse.
I looked up at him, struggling to compose a nonchalant expression on my face.
“Um. H-hi,” I mumbled.
Bang bang bang.
Why oh why hadn’t I bothered to wash my hair this morning? And was my
stupid scar properly covered? Had I put enough concealer on it? Wasn’t it ever going to
just fade away, or was I condemned to a lifetime looking like a freak?
Get a grip, Rae, I told myself. I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my
face. Made myself look into his eyes.
Blue, so blue.
“What can I get you?” I mumbled.
“Whiskey and soda, please,” the man in the black leather jacket said.
“Just a mo.” I was breathless, as though I’d been running a mile. “Here you go.”
“Great.” He delved into the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a note.
“Thanks,” I said. Then, spurred on by a sudden outpour of courage, I blurted out:
“Y-you were brilliant. Up there, I mean. I loved it. Um.”
He smiled at me then. He could have stolen hearts, priceless time off people or
luxury jewellery with that smile.
He’d tell me one day he used it for all three, actually.
“Thanks,” the young man said. “I appreciate it.”
Then he paused and regarded me. I felt myself flushing to the roots of my hair.
And I’ll have you know that flushing and being redheaded isn’t exactly a good
combination.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Er, Rae.”

8
 “Rae,” the singer repeated. My name was dark velvet in his voice. “Beautiful
name. Have a good night, Rae.”
With a nod at me, he disappeared into the crowd. I was left simpering after him
like an idiot.
But then I realised something: he hadn’t told me his name.
Oh well. As if that mattered, really. I didn’t suppose I’d be seeing him again;
Anker’s was particular about having different bands over so it didn’t get stuck in a rut.
Hardly any of them stayed for longer than a fortnight.
Even if I did see him again, chances were he wouldn’t so much as glance at me a
second time. Why would he, after all, when he could have his pick of all the girls?
Besides, I had the sneaky suspicion he was nothing but trouble, just like he sang in his
voice of leather and night.
I was wrong about almost everything.

9
The voice in Rae’s head: meet Lisa

The little sneering voice inside my mind is called Lisa, and I hate her guts. She’s always
quick to point out whatever she thinks I’m doing wrong, or all the ways I’m
embarrassing myself. If she were a real person, Lisa would be infuriatingly perfect. I
imagine her as a cross between Head Cheerleader and Millionaire CEO:

1. She’s one of those effortlessly cool girls who can walk around wearing oversized
hoodies and huge messy buns and still somehow look glamorous. Whenever I attempt to
pull that look off I turn positively vagrant-like.
2. She has no scars, needless to say, or acne or pimples. She doesn’t need to exfoliate or
put moisturising cream on because her skin is always so smooth. Like bloody porcelain,
in fact.
3. She never wears make-up because yeah, she’s naturally beautiful, okay? But not in
an overly feminine, slutty sort of way. No, no. Lisa is classy, and she owns it.
4. She’s the sort of girl who always manages to have a comeback ready and has no
problem standing up for herself. Whenever someone has a go at me, I just stand there
looking gormless while seething inside. And it’s not until two weeks later that I’m
struck with the most marvellous thing I could have replied.
5. She has all sorts of talents. Natural talents, of course, what were you thinking?
Training and working hard for something is for losers. I hate really talented people, by
the way. Well, Lisa here ice skates and pirouettes most beautifully in this wonderful
little white matching skirt and jacket. Oh, and she paints watercolours and has her own
art gallery.

Basically, she’s a pain in the arse.

10
 Chapter 3
Scarred

In a flat on Oxford Street, a young man was trying to slip out of a bedroom undetected.
He picked up his shoes from where he'd left them the previous night and tiptoed
through the door. He'd only got as far as the corridor when the floorboards under his feet
gave a mighty crack.
Oh no.
“Kal?” a sleepy female voice said. “Is that you?”
The man sighed under his breath. He'd forgotten how batlike her ears were. Now
he'd have no option but stay for breakfast, have some godawful stale pancakes and play
happy couples.
But what she didn't realise was that he didn't do couples, and he only played
when it suited him.
“Yeah,” he called back, resigning himself. “Needed the toilet.”
He pushed the door open and stepped inside the bedroom again. In the half-
gloom he could make out the outline of a girl, curled up on her side. She smiled at him.
“Hey,” she said, a faint whining edge to her voice. “No good morning cuddle
this time?”
He flopped down on the crumpled bed beside her, this man somewhere in his
twenties with his black hair and lazy drawl. She twisted herself around him. He could
smell traces of himself on her skin.
“Morning, Maddy,” he said.
“Maddy? I'm Tess, nutjob. Maddy is my sister.” She stared at him, a puzzled
frown on her face. “I haven't introduced her to you, have I? D'you know her or
something?”
The man paused. Across his mind flitted memories of Maddy's long hair, long
smile and long legs wrapped around his waist. She'd clawed his whole back; he still had
fingernail marks all over it.
He shrugged, said: “Nah. I must have mixed it up with someone else's, I guess.”
Then he threw an arm around the girl and began to hum under his breath, absent-
mindedly, in a voice like distant thunder. It was a beautiful voice, low, rumbling, velvet-
smooth. It was a beautiful voice in which to lie.
“Has nobody ever told you,” she said, snuggling into him again with a satisfied
sigh, “that you sing just like an angel?”

***

11
The first time I was attacked by angels, I was almost ten years old.
I was coming home from school one afternoon. It was a bleak February day, but
I’d be turning ten the day after, such a perfect, round, neat little number. The thought of
it made me smile.
Would my parents get me a puppy as a gift, I wondered? I very much hoped I’d
get a puppy, a fluffy white tiny thing called Snowy, whose fur I’d plait and tie silky
ribbons around its neck. I knew better than to even hint at it, though – I couldn’t bear to
see the disappointment on my parents’ faces.
“Don’t worry, Rae,” Mum would say. “You be a bad little girl and you’ll get all
the presents you want. Pet snake? Krazed Kiddie Krime Kit? Maybe even a day trip
Below? You name it.”
Little could I imagine that the present I’d be receiving later would be smaller.
Sharper.
It would save my life.
It would save his life, too, ten years later.

***

I’d seen them as I’d neared the Pizza Express.

There had been two of them, a boy and a girl in their late teens. They were
perched on top of one of the restaurant’s tables set on the pavement, sharing a can of
Diet Coke. At the sound of my footsteps, they glanced up, heads cocked to the side.
There was a silent intensity about the simple gesture that made me flinch.
“Look at her,” the boy’s voice, disgustedly enthralled, flitted towards me.
Uneasy, I kept my head down and walked on. They weren’t really talking about
me, were they?
“My God, look at her.”
The girl stared at me. “Is she…?” She paused. She sniffed the air, like a shark
smelling blood, and then she laughed, high and filthy.
“She is,” the boy said.
I had no clue what they were talking about, bless – or rather damn – my
innocence. I should have run then. I could have run, or let out a shriek of help.
I did neither of these things.
Instead, I gritted my teeth, tightened my grip on my rucksack and marched on,
nearing them with every step. I could now make out the freckles on the boy’s nose, the
undone laces on the girl’s brown boots.
I was a fool. The biggest, most pig-headed little fool in the world.
My heart was banging in my chest, but I wasn’t going to let a couple of odd
teenagers mock me. Who did they think they were, staring at me as though I were a
circus freak? I’d done nothing wrong. I hadn’t nicked so much as a piece of chewing
gum in my life, much to my parents’ disappointment. I was very nearly home. I could
spot Dad’s garden gnomes standing soggy and morose behind the creaky wooden fence,
one of them smoking a ciggie. I’d walk past them in a second – there – another step,
head down, avoid eye contact – nearly there –
“She’s cute,” the boy said. “Bet her kind taste spicy, eh?”
He snapped his jaws, revealing a flash of glossy teeth. By his side, the girl
clambered down the table and tied her laces carefully.
It was almost never o’clock, and I was alone.
Then they both turned towards me.

12
 ***

What happened afterwards is a blur in my memory. The mere thought of it, even now,
after all this time, has me screaming in my dreams.
I was lucky, though.
Eventually, some kind of self-preservation instinct kicked in and I cried out for
help. As chance would have it, my father happened to be watering his beloved
flowerbeds at the moment a few yards ahead, something which made no sense
whatsoever because: a) it had been fricking raining all day long b) actually, among our
many talents, us demons have zero natural knack for gardening, something he refused to
admit.
Anyway, the bottom line is that he heard my shrieks.
Afterwards, when it was all over, he crouched down next to me and gently
touched my right cheek. I was too exhausted to even flinch at the white-hot pain.
“It’ll scar,” he said, in the same low, soothing tones he used to talk to his
favourite flower, a magnolia named Adelaide. “It’ll scar, but you’ll be fine.”
He glanced at the dented Diet Coke can and the boots with neat laces that lay in
a puddle of dirty rainwater next to us. There was silence in the dark streets, icy and
swollen.
Then he said: “Here, Rae. For you. Think of this as an early birthday present.
You’ll have to watch your back from now on.”
He pressed something cold into my bleeding hands. Numbly, I looked down at
the small dagger. It was still glistening.
I’d sworn to myself there and then that I wouldn’t forget what they’d done to
me, what they’d turned me into. That I’d get back at them, not just at the two teenagers
I’d had the misfortune of running into, but at the whole of Them.
The angels.
It was never o’clock.
I’d be turning ten that night, such a perfect, neat, broken little number.

13
 Chapter 4
Freaks

Ronald E. Mellketh was a saint.

Literally.
He’d boast about it to anyone who’d listen, who weren’t that too many people,
mainly because of the small negligible fact that he was dead. He’d been very dead for
five years and he wasn’t enjoying himself one little bit.
He wasn’t sure why he’d become a saint, as a matter of fact. Okay, he was an
angel, which after all looked good on your C.V. There was no point trying to deny it.
And he’d always prided himself on being a selfless person, true. Maybe it was the
miracle stuff that got people’s attention. The country had been going through a rough
patch of draughts and economic crisis, he remembered. He’d stood staring out of the
window one morning, while Agnes moaned that they were broke. He’d waved a hand at
her, all casual-like, and said: “My dear, don’t you worry about a thing. I promise things
will look up. You have my word.” Then he’d clutched a hand to his chest, startled. His
heart had always given him trouble. He’d toppled over himself and he hadn’t got up
again.
Well.
Not quite as himself, anyway.
It was rather irritating, being dead, to tell you the truth. Most people looked
through you and talked through you and some even had the goddamn nerve to walk
through you too. Being dead didn’t mean you had no feelings, you know. People were
so bloody inconsiderate sometimes.
On the bright side, things had perked up, just as he’d promised, hence the saint
title. But it was so boring nowadays. There wasn’t anything you could do, really. The
novelty of walking through walls and turning up at séances while old ladies paled wore
off after a day or two. He couldn’t even do some good, old-fashioned haunting, as he’d
never had an enemy in his life, what with being a full-time saint and everything.
In a nutshell, it was overrated, this whole dead thing.
The doorbell rang.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled.
A waft of lemon cologne accompanied his every step. Beneath it curled the
smell of something rank. He nudged the door open with his elbow; his left arm ended in
a stump above the wrist.
On the doorstep, hands in pockets, very much alive, stood his eldest nephew, in
that elegantly indolent manner of his. He was wearing a crisp white shirt and jeans. He
raised blue eyes at Ronald and grinned.
“Hey, Uncle. How are you doing?”
14
 Ronald clasped him on the shoulder.
“M’boy, you made it!”
The young man shook his black hair out of his eyes.
“I wouldn’t miss your late B-day for the world.” He lifted the bag in his grasp
for Ronald to see, a mischievous expression bursting across his face. “And I’ve brought
presents.”
Ronald was beaming. This nephew of his always had the same effect on him.
“For me?”
The younger man chuckled at his eagerness. “For all four of you.”
“You’re too good to us, lad. Too good. Now get inside, get inside; your brother
is bursting to see you.”
His nephew scrubbed his shoes clean on the doormat, stepped over the threshold
and clicked the heavy oak door shut.
The man’s name was Kal. He was twenty-two, slender, golden-smiled. Also, he
was an angel, and a demon-hunter. He looked as though he had everything in the world
at the reach of his fingertips.
Except he didn’t.
Not really.
Not at all.
First of all, he had no money. Well, all right, he did, but he wasn’t as
comfortably off as he would’ve liked. Second, he had no parents: both his angel father
and his human mother had been murdered by demons a decade ago. And last, he had no
peace of mind, and he hadn’t had any of it for the last ten years. Oh, and he had no
conscience, or a strange conscience of sorts. All four of the gifts for his family had been
skilfully and lovingly stolen the day before.

***

I was beginning to suspect that inviting Ben over for the night had been a mistake. We’d
had dinner at a fancy Mexican restaurant, then shared a whole bottle of wine between
us. I blamed the latter for my sudden enthusiasm for having him stay the night.
It didn’t seem such a good idea now that its effects were wearing off.
“Ow, Rae, don’t poke your elbow into my thigh, it hurts.”
“Sorry. But you quit pulling at my hair or holding my head like that. It’s
horrible, I feel like I’m about to choke.”
“Okay, I won’t. Don’t want you puking all over me, thanks.”
Definitely a mistake.

***

“They look stunning, darling,” Agnes Mellketh cooed. She arranged the flowers into a
vase by the kitchen window. “Orchids. My favourites. So thoughtful of you, Kal. Must
have cost a fortune.”
He squeezed her plump hand. The purple polish on her nails was chipping off.
“My pleasure, Auntie. Thanks for having me over.”
“My boy, don’t be silly. You’re always welcome here,” Ronald said. He sank a
Californian maki roll in soya sauce. A sluglike brown tongue poked out of his mouth
and ran over the food. He shook his head. “Can’t even bloody taste them properly
anymore. Just the memory of it. Bah. Don’t die, any of you, y’hear me?”

15
 “You spoil Dad so, Kal,” teenage Cassandra sniffed. “Gourmet sushi? Really?
Couldn’t you have got him something more – edifying?”
Kal rolled his eyes at his cousin, good-naturedly.
“You weren’t half quick to try the designer jacket on, though,” he said. “That’s
not very, ah, edifying.”
Cassandra blushed and glowered at him in a decidedly un-angellike way.
“Hand!” Ronald bellowed all of a sudden, making them start. “Get back here
this minute!”
Something was scuttling fast over the polka-dotted tablecloth. It knocked the
soya bottle over in the process. Maybe you could have mistaken it for an enormous
spider. Well, if it weren’t for the veins that protruded under the skin. Or the talonlike
nails that curved at the end of it, darkened with five years’ grime. It was laden with
rings and bracelets that jingled with the motion.
Ronald Mellketh lunged forward across the table and seized the hand.
“For god’s sake,” he snapped, and held it upside down, so that the long fingers
dangled in mid-air. “Now let go of Kal’s ring.” The thing writhed in his grasp. “And
Mrs Heevey’s wedding band, and the neighbour’s bracelets. All of it, mind. I swear I’ll
chop every phalange off if you continue with this idiotic behaviour. I don’t mind, I can’t
feel a thing anymore.”
He shook it more forcefully. An assortment of jewellery clattered down on top of
the sushi tray.
“There you go, Kal. Sorry. It loves nicking bright stuff off people, Hand does.”
Ronald sighed and addressed the spider of decayed flesh and bone again. “You make me
ashamed. Yes, ashamed. I sure as anything never stole a thing in my life with you. Just
because I’m dead now and you’re no longer attached to my body doesn’t mean you
ought to act like a common thief, see. Run along now, and don’t disturb us again. I think
there might be a rat or two left in the attic if you’re feeling peckish. No, the cat’s out of
the question; we’re much too fond of it. Yes, that’s my final answer. Now go.”
The tendons on the hand’s surface tautened. Then it scurried over their plates,
down the table and vanished from sight.
“Incorrigible, that thing is,” Ronald said, shaking his head. He looked up to find
Kal staring at him. “What? I thought you’d seen it before? Now don’t look so shocked,
my boy.”
“Yes, I’ve seen it a couple of times,” Kal said. “But it gives me the creeps still. I
mean, it used to be your own hand, Uncle. It’s sort of weird.”
“Nonsense,” Ronald said, in brisk tones. “Yes, it used to be my left hand, back
when I was alive. Got severed off. Now it’s running about the house. So what? Odder
things are happening every day.”
He broke off and looked down the table. “Hand, I’m feeding you to Arthur
Rabber’s German Shepherd if you don’t behave, I’m warning you!”

***

I hissed and slapped Ben’s hand off my cheek.

“Quit doing that, Ben,” I whispered from underneath him. “You know I’m – that
I have – "
He looked at me. “A scar?”
I felt a burning surge of shame, as I always did when the subject came up. Years
of bullying at school had worn my confidence down. Weirdo, they’d called me. Witch,
loner. It didn’t help that I’d been a naturally shy kid. I didn’t make friends easily, and

16
squashed down by their alternating mocking cruelty and blatant ignoring, it turned me
into a silent, anxious teenager.
No one would sit next to me in class willingly, and if they did, they’d perch on
the farthest edge of the chair, as though being scarred were an infectious disease. There
was no one I could gossip and giggle and exchange notes with during lessons. No one I
could link my arm through and share crisps with at break time. No one I could invite
over for sleepovers. The loneliness was vast, sharp as the brightest glass, hollow as
hunger. It made my bones ache. It sucked the life from me, little by little, day after day.
You bring out the monster inside me, my bullies would say.
It does things to you, being bullied, you know. Crumbles you. Changes you into
someone bitter and scared, into a half-person who never dares speak up.
My classmates would also mutter about Mum. “She has people over at theirs
every night,” they’d snigger. “She – you know – entertains them.”
Somehow they’d got hold of this information, but what they were driving at was
far from the truth. There again, what really went on at home every now and again, when
we were going through a rough patch and needed every extra pound that could come in,
wouldn’t have set their minds at ease either.
That’s the thing about humans, you see. Despite what they might believe, they
need no demonic influence to be infinitely cruel. They manage on their own extremely
well indeed. However, deep down in my heart, I knew who was really to blame for the
bullying, for turning me into a ghost version of myself.
The angels’. They’d marked me that night on that wet street, and they’d ruined
everything.
Sometimes I’d lock myself in the toilet and force myself to stare at my face in
the mirror. I’d trace the snake-like outline of the long white scar that began under my
right eye, ran down the cheek and ended near the corner of my mouth. You bring out the
monster inside me. I stared at it, and hated it, and sometimes I hated myself. I was so
self-conscious about the scar I couldn’t even leave the house without covering it with a
thick layer of makeup.
I didn’t fit in anywhere. At home I wasn’t bad enough, at school I wasn’t good
enough, cool enough, pretty enough.
I was a freak.

***

“It’s heart-wrenching, isn’t it, to think of all the starving people in the world,”
Cassandra declared, looking pointedly at Kal’s steaming plate, piled high with potatoes
and meat.
“Absolutely.” Kal wolfed down another chunk of roast beef. Oh God, she was
wearing The Face. He steeled himself. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”
She glared at him in stony silence.
“What do you want me to do about it, Cass?” he said.
Cassandra flung her thin hands into the air. “I don’t know!” she said. “You’re an
angel, aren’t you, same as us all? Perhaps seek the Greater Good? Rings any bells?”
Kal could feel a giant headache starting at the back of his skull.
“Look, Cass, I get what you’re trying to say,” he told her.
His eyes met Nate’s – blue like his own – and he shot him a small, sly smile.
Cass was too much to handle sometimes, his brother had once confessed. Nate smiled
back and returned to poring over his Star Wars comic, engrossed. It was his favourite,
and Kal had managed to find the vintage collector’s edition, much to his brother’s glee.

17
 “I do my best, okay?” It wasn’t true, though. It had been a long time since he’d
been totally truthful with anyone, come to think about it. “But it really beats me why
starving myself would help anyone in the first place, to be honest.”
There. He’d been truthful for once. That was a start, wasn’t it? He dipped a
square of wholemeal bread into a pool of sauce. Man, that was some lunch.
There was a suspiciously loud silence. He glanced up at his family. Uh-oh.
Wrong thing to say. The four people at the kitchen table were all now wearing The Face.
Shit.

***

“Rae, don’t move, will you, I just keep slipping off you.”
“Look, I’m not a doll, you know. I can’t help moving. Let’s just go to sleep,
yeah?”
“Oh, don’t be like that. Come on. Just a few minutes more, come on.”

***

“My dear, it’s the intention that counts,” Agnes said, her gentle voice matching the tones
she used on the abused women and the abandoned children she worked with. She’d
been a social worker for almost twenty years and was excellent at it. It was impossible
not to be soothed by Agnes. “The intention of sacrifice and selflessness and empathy. I
think it would do you good to starve for a few days, just like Cass is doing, see how it
goes. Does wonders for the spirit, doesn’t it, Cass? Cleanses the soul and removes all
the calories, born from a life of luxury, all the petty worries. Besides, you get such
awfully glamorous cheekbones.”
“I’m good, Auntie,” Kal said, the epitome of politeness.
Did he dare eat the remaining piece of soggy bread on his plate? Meanwhile,
Cassandra took a tight-lipped, zero-calorie sip of tap water.
“Sounds like a ball, being a martyr and all, but not like my kind of thing, really.
Thanks for the offer, though. I’ll bear it in mind,” he added.
“Your brother is going to volunteer at the homeless shelter next week, aren’t
you, Nathaniel?” Ronald said, licking a grubby finger.
Nathaniel Mellketh nodded and finished eating quietly. He’d been wordless
throughout the entire meal. He conjured to mind the image of a prepubescent scrawny
mouse.
“Excellent, kid,” Ronald said. “Excellent. You’ll do us proud.”
Ronald noticed the boy’s eyes flickering towards him. Turning scarlet, he
fastened his woollen jacket shut, blocking from sight the glimpse of spleen, darkened
and rotting, at the left corner of his see-through abdomen.
“No staring,” he snarled. “Mind your manners, Nate. Give your uncle some
privacy, for God’s sake.”
“Sorry, Uncle,” the boy murmured.
Nate was twelve years old, the same age Kal had been when his parents – when
they’d been – when it happened – and his aunt and uncle had welcomed them into their
home and lovingly raised them along with Cassandra as if they were their own children
too. Nate had been a toddler at the time, and had been living with them ever since, while
Kal had left for university when he turned eighteen.

18
 Nate sat at the family table with his head bowed, his blond hair dishevelled. His
thin shoulders were hunched over his plate, like he’d lost everything and he now had
nothing whatsoever left.
Which wasn’t true.
Not really.
Not at all.
First, he had a quick-witted mind. He wanted to be an inventor or a scientist;
whenever he could he’d shut himself in his aunt’s garden shed and carry out all sorts of
experiments on assorted bits and pieces of machinery he came across at. Second, he had
a generous nature that made it effortless to like him. And last, he had an older brother
who loved him more than anything else in the world.
Kal would kill every remaining demon walking the face of Earth with his bare
hands before he let Nate suffer at their hands. He swore it to all the gods he’d so long
ago lost faith in. He owed it to Nate. He owed it to his parents. And he owed it to
himself.
It wasn’t a threat, though. Kal Mellketh made no threats.
It was a promise.

19
Rae’s practical guide to being an Evil Demon

I know what you’re thinking: it shouldn’t be too hard, being bad and everything, should
it? I mean, it’s merely unleashing your deepest, darkest desires, and don’t let’s be
hypocrites, who hasn’t those every once in a while? Baring the uglier parts of yourself,
yeah? Well, you know what? Actually, it’s more than that. Thing is, you can’t be
blatantly, in-your-face wicked. Well, you can, of course, you can walk around being a
mass murderer and stuff. But that’s just vulgar, see. No class about that.
No, you must be evil in this subtle, ever-so-sneaky sort of way. You have to be
crafty when meddling in human affairs, crooking their lives with a careful word here, a
sly gesture there, so that secrets are spilt. Friendships crumble. Love turns bitter. The
possibilities are endless. And listen, the beauty of this, the real beauty of the whole
scheme, is that it’s the humans themselves who wreck it all. They’re the ones inflicting
pain on each other.
You’re nothing more than the gunpowder that triggered it all. The smiling face
behind the scenes.
How elegant.
Not.

Kal’s practical guide to being a Positively Angelic Angel

Right. So, being an angel. Yeah. The theory goes something like this: you have to be
good, but hold your horses, not because it’s your duty. Not because it’s what’s expected
of you or because people are watching or because you feel guilty. No, the goodness
must stem from your innermost being, you must have this totally natural urge to always
do good and –
Hey. You listening?
Me neither.
Look, let me get this straight: it’s so stupid, the whole sacrifice thing. You might
think it’s noble or admirable or valiant or whichever phoney adjective you’d like to add
here, but in fact it’s not.
It’s just plain stupid.
For example, when we were kids, my aunt and uncle made Nate and I wear
shoes a couple of sizes too small for us. Not all the time, but every few days, enough so
that I’d sometimes dash out in my slippers or barefoot rather than limp around in those
horrible trainers. What was the purpose of it all, you might very wisely indeed ask?
Supposedly it was a lesson to teach us endurance to pain and perseverance in life
and whatever. Endurance my arse. I swear my left foot has never been quite the same.
It’s spectacularly ugly; I’m actually quite proud of it.
And don’t get me started on food. No second helpings if you stay for lunch at
my family’s place. In fact, the more undernourished you are, the better. Eating is a really
nasty habit, okay? Can’t you just live on air like a normal person?

20
 I was forgetting, no mirrors in the house, of course. Duh. Looking at yourself is
something only the weak of nature do. We Mellkeths don’t put up with that sort of
behaviour, you narcissistic, morally bankrupt creature.
In other words, it’s exhausting, being an angel.
My advice to you is to stay nicely flawed and human.

21
 Chapter 5
Blue

The next time I saw him, I was dressed up as Stitch.

Last winter, our boss, Mrs Taylor, had taken it into her head to throw a costume
party at Anker’s once a month to ‘spice things up’, that was how she put it.
Unfortunately, the habit had stuck and people seemed to love the idea. Also, Mrs T. had
made it mandatory for the ruddy staff to be dressed up as well, ‘so that customers
wouldn’t feel out of place’, i.e.: having us waiters mercilessly ridiculed. To make
matters worse, these parties were themed, so that you couldn’t actually dress up in
something that struck your fancy or in a costume that required the minimum of time and
money. No, Mrs T. insisted We Follow The Theme Or Else.
Hateful hag.
The theme for this month was Disney films, and Vanessa had shrieked with glee
at the news. I should’ve known better than to trust her with the costume. But to be
honest, I couldn’t be bothered to come up with costume ideas, let alone search shops or
the Internet for one – it had been a pretty hard week at the training centre and I was
knackered.
“See if you can find a sparkly headband or something of the sort,” I’d told her.
“Nothing elaborate, okay? I’ll just hop it on and say I’m one of them princesses, and
you can do the same. Mrs T. will have to lump it.”
“Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours,” Vanessa had said, eyes gleaming.
“I’ll get us something for a song. And, yes, something subtle, I promise.”
I should point out that Vanessa’s idea of subtle was the equivalent of wearing a
leopard-print trikini to a business dinner.
She’d turned up at my flat yesterday with a plastic bag and a smile.
“Check out what I found on Amazon,” she’d said, skipping around the living
room in excitement. “I’m a genius, I reckon. You’re going to love it, Rae.”
I flopped down on the carpet and pulled something out from the bag. Something
suspiciously blue and fluffy. I stared down at it with a dawning sense of horror.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I know, isn’t it fabulous? Here’s mine, look.” Vanessa swished out a green skirt
and a garland of flowers, and gave a triumphant twirl. “Ta-da. We’re Lilo and Stitch!
You know, from the movies?”
I inspected the furry blue thing in my hands, warily. “Bloody Hell, it’s a
jumpsuit? And it has – ears? And please don’t tell me this part is worn over the head.”
Vanessa clapped her hands in glee. “That’s right! What kind of imposter Stitch
would you be otherwise?”

22
 “Ah, so I take it I’m going as Stitch and you as Lilo?” I crossed my arms. “No
way. No fricking way.”
Vanessa pouted. “Don’t be so wet, Rae. Your turn to choose next time if you
like. It’s just a bit of fun.”
“Cheek,” I protested. “You’re not going to be the one swanning about dressed as
a weirdo blue dog in front of dozens of people.”
“He’s not a dog, Rae. Since when is Stitch a dog? He’s an alien. Duh.”
“Well, thank god for that,” I said sarcastically. “You’ve really eased my mind
now.”
“Look, you don’t have time to look for anything else now. Go on, please?”
I sighed, defeated. “Did I mention that I hate you?”

***

“Here you are,” Lilo said in a sing-song voice, setting down a tumbler on the bar. “Have
a good night, Mike.”
Prince Charming rapped at the foam sword strapped at his waist and ran an
appreciative eye over her. “Looking good, V. Looking good. I’ll see you around.”
Vanessa sighed at the guy’s retreating form and adjusted the red plastic flowers
on her curls.
“Isn’t he cute, Rae? What d’you reckon he means by that, though? See you
around as in ‘yeah, I know you work here and you’ll be around’ or as in ‘I want to see
you specifically, Vanessa’?
“See you around,” I said, “means just that. See you around. Most guys aren’t
particularly known for their eloquence.”
Vanessa blew on her very jagged and very turquoise nails. “Hey, Sulky Stitch,
cheer up. Guess who’s turning up later?”
I scratched at my scalp. The hood was turning out to be rather itchy. I’d already
been caught red-handed twice trying to climb out of the blue costume; of course that
had to be the exact same moment when Mrs Taylor had decided to waltz past the bar.
Trying to shirk my duties, was what she had the cheek to claim I was doing.
“Not sulking,” I glowered at nothing in particular. “Just not sure if Lilo ever
wore a skintight, glittery miniskirt, you know.”
“Oh, that’s just the envy speaking, then?”
“That’s it.” I paused, then said, in what I hoped was a casual manner: “Who is
turning up later? You said.”
“Oh, yeah. Kal Mellketh and his lot. When the girl who’s onstage now is done.”
“Who?”
“The guy we saw sing last Friday, Rae. The banquet on legs.” Vanessa cackled.
“Remember?”
“Oh. Oh. Yeah.” Then, in studiedly breezy tones, I asked: “He told you his
name, did he?”
“Yep, the day you were ill. We had a bit of a chat. He’s a character.”
“Right.” There was a sudden sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I tried to
make sense of it, while I asked: “I guess ‘a chat’ is Vanessa-code for stuff?”
She sniggered. “Girl, you overestimate my powers of seduction. Three minutes
of conversation isn’t enough, you know. Even by my standards. But thanks for your
faith in me. That was moving.”
“Right,” I said again, trying not to sound too relieved.
“So no, Rae. No stuff.” She grinned. “Yet.”

23
 I said nothing. It came to me later, when I retreated into the kitchen looking for a
bag of crisps some guy insisted on having.
I was terribly, absurdly jealous.

***

“Guys, you ready?” Jake asked, jigging up and down. He tapped a frantic little rhythm
on his legs with his drumsticks. “Any time now.”
Becker nodded. He huddled against the wall, head bowed.
“Are you praying, Becker?” Kal asked him.
Becker’s head shot up and turned towards him. “Yeah,” he snapped. “You got a
problem with that, Mellketh?”
Kal shook his head. “Who do you pray to?”
“Satan. Who do you think?” Becker snorted, then added, in defiant tones, as
though daring him to mock him: “Saints, okay? Angels. I like to think there’s some
good left in this world. That they’re – they’re watching over me. Somewhere.
Somehow.”
Kal nodded, feeling the usual embarrassment creep over his skin. He forced
himself not to squirm and clapped his bandmate on the shoulder.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, self-consciously. “Anyway, you’re allowed to
believe whatever you want.”
“Yeah. You know, you’re okay, for a godless little wanker.” Becker smiled.
“Don’t you believe in anything, mate?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Becker shook his head. “One look at you is enough to make that deduction.”
“I believe in myself,” said Kal. He took a deep breath. “And I believe in us. So
let’s go kill it out there.”

***

It was proving to be harder than I’d thought. Not wishing broken bones onto the hordes
of screaming women below the stage that tried to clutch at the singer, that is.
Hour after hour, I mixed drinks and mopped up puddles of beer off the bar and
warded off dubious overtures of friendship from men old enough to be my grandfather.
Throughout it all I concentrated hard on not murdering anyone in the process, the music
thundering in my ears.
In the rare moments I was left alone, I watched the band onstage. Well,
accurately speaking, I watched the singer, clad from head to toe in elegant black.
I watched the way he tilted his chin down and gazed up at the audience through
half-lidded eyes. I watched him fling out an arm, drop to his knees, heave his hips
forward in time to the music. I watched the crowd sway under his spell. And all the
while there was a peculiar feeling stirring inside me, something ancient and powerful
and ravenous –
Look. I don’t know how to put this delicately, so I’ll have to be blunt.
Kal Mellketh oozed sex. Kal Mellketh was sex, raw, animal-hungry, dark-gold
sex.
With a final crash of drums and thrum of guitar, the song rippled to an end. He
got to his feet and lifted a hand, grinning, breathless, while the swarming mass of
people below cheered.

24
 “Oh my god, amazing much?” Vanessa yelled over the shrieks, and high-fived
me. “I think they could go places.” She reached around and poured out two shots of
tequila into Anker’s best glasses. “I suggest a toast. To us. To the most glamorous Lilo
and Stitch that ever walked the Earth.”
“To us,” I echoed, and swigged it back, trying not to pull a face. “Woah.”
Vanessa let out a titter and pulled me in for a hug. “Only an hour to go, and then
we’re free. You can come over to mine for a drink if you like. It wasn’t that bad, tonight,
was it? I told you so.”
“It was alright, yeah.”
We worked for another ten minutes or so before I felt a sudden wooziness wash
over me. I flung the costume hood off my head.
“Hey, it’s sweltering in here,” I said. “I can’t breathe. I’ll go get some air, okay?
Back in five.”
“Okay. Don’t die on me, please.”
“I’ll try not to,” I called back over my shoulder.
And then I nudged the front door open and stepped out into the night, making
the biggest mistake of my life.

***

I stood outside the entrance of the bar and pulled in a lungful of fresh air, sighing with
relief. There was a shadowy cluster of people crowding around nearby. The smell of
cigarette smoke filled the air.
I walked past them and huddled down on the step of a darkened doorway on my
left. I’d just got out my phone when I saw someone glancing in my direction.
“For Gawd’s sake, another one of your fucking groupies, Mellketh,” a voice
groaned. A guy’s. “Dude, I don’t know what you do to them. Though this one is pretty
hot. Well, as hot as a chick dressed as a blue dog can be.” He sniggered.
“Yeah.” Another young male voice, strident. I could hear the mocking in it.
“Reckon she’s naked under that costume?”
Face burning, I shot bolt upright. The nerve of some people. I dropped my phone
into my pocket with an angry clang, pushed myself to my feet and stalked off in the
direction of the voices.
Three years ago, I had promised myself I wouldn’t be made to feel small again.
That I’d never hear scorn ringing in anyone’s voice, or curl up in the shadows, alone,
hollowed out.
That I’d fight back.
I stopped behind their backs now.
“Excuse me, I’m right here, you know,” I said, seething, and my bullies’ faces
fluttered in my memory. “I have ears. And manners, unlike you lot. And for your
information, Stitch is a blue alien. Not a blue dog. That’s general knowledge, pals.”
There was a stunned silence as the small gang of people turned to stare at me. I
stood there, a sudden embarrassment taking over me. Then, opposite me, dressed in
black, a young man laughed, low and husky. I felt my whole body reacting to the sound.
“Too damned right,” Kal Mellketh said. “Now, guys, would be an excellent time
for you to put a sock in it and leave.”
His eyes wandered over to my face. I saw them widen slightly in recognition.
“You not coming to Camilla’s or what? I thought we were all leaving together,
man,” one of the guys said. “Camilla’s already asking about you.”
“Then she’ll have to wait,” he said. “See you later.”

25
 The others cast one last bewildered glance at me before slouching off.
Kal Mellketh looked at me. “Sorry about that. They might have a talent for
music, but also a distinct lack of functioning brain cells.”
“S’okay.”
I felt a belated wave of shyness woosh over me. I fiddled with my sleeves,
suddenly all too conscious of my appearance. I cursed Vanessa for the tenth time. He sat
down on the graffitied bench behind us, and after a moment of hesitation, I perched
down on his left, keeping a cautious distance from him.
“I’m not one of your – of your groupies,” I blurted out. “Just for the record.”
Oh Hell, it hadn’t sounded that harsh in my head. Worried that I’d offended him,
I peered at him.
He darted an amused look at me, unbothered. “I know. You’re Rae. Aren’t you?”
He remembered my name.
“Yes,” I said, secretly thrilled.
Up close, I could see the small dark mole on his left ear and the subtle creases in
his black shirt. It was taking all my willpower to refrain from gawking at him.
“I’m Kal,” said Kal Mellketh. “Great costume, by the way. Original. All I came
across earlier were stripper Cinderellas.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, feeling proud that I was managing to talk to him without
making an idiot of myself. “I only save this costume for special occasions, you see. For
special people.”
His mouth twitched. “Yeah? I feel flattered, then.”
Plucking up the little remaining courage I had left, I retorted: “Whatever makes
you think I meant you?”
He looked at me sideways, then shook his head. He was grinning.
“Oh man. I think I’m going to like you, Rae.”
I rubbed my clammy palms on my thighs, wiping the anxious sweat off. Was he
– no, he couldn’t be – was he flirting with me? Was I flirting with him?
“I’m not sure if you should. I’m much too odd,” I said.
“That makes two of us, then.”
He swivelled his head so that his blue eyes locked with mine. I made myself
look right back at him, my heart pounding. He didn’t break eye contact, and a swooping
sensation filled my stomach. My eyelids burned. Three seconds more. He was the most
fascinating creature I’d ever met, the man in black sitting by my side. I couldn’t hold his
gaze any longer. A strange feeling fluttered inside my chest. Five seconds. Seven. I was
going to burst.
I dropped my eyes then. Something hovered between us; it reminded me of
those summer days when the air stills before a thunderstorm.
“What did you dress up in, anyway?” I asked.
He smelled of coffee, cologne. I could have reached out a hand and touched him.
He was so near me, and I wanted to so badly. But I stayed still, and gazed down at my
grubby white Converse.
“Ah,” he said in the half-darkness, and I could almost taste the smile in his
voice. “I went as Kal Mellketh. That’s enough costume as it is.”
I said nothing. I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t come out for
some air. I wondered what I would have done if I’d known he was outside. I would’ve
frozen with shyness and not dared approach him, probably. But afterwards, when
everything happened, I would come to believe that, sooner or later, I’d have run into
him again.
He was mine. He was my destiny.

26
 “Well, it was great seeing you again, Rae,” Kal said, unfolding himself to his
feet. “Even if you offered me no free drinks or something.”
I laughed. “Cheek!”
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying. Got to go now; annoying people are
waiting. Cheers.”
He strolled off into the night, and a lonely wind made stray beer cans jingle
around his feet. I watched him walk away from me, heart banging.
Did I dare?
I knew it was now or never.
“Kal?” I asked, and his name felt alien in my mouth. He stopped walking, and
looked over his shoulder at me, questioningly. “Could I have your phone number?”

27
Rae and Lisa: a conversation

Lisa: Rae? You there?

Rae: Of course I’m here. I mean, you’re the one camping in my head, not the other way
round, you know?
Lisa: Whatever.
Rae: You were saying?
Lisa: Ah, yes. You’re thinking of that guy, aren’t you?
Rae: Which guy?
Lisa: Now don’t play dumb with me, my girl. Remember I get to peek into your
thoughts, as you said. You know perfectly well which guy I mean.
Rae: Um, yeah, so?
Lisa: Well, stop it. Stop thinking about him all the time, it’s bordering on pathological.
Besides, I have a feeling about him. A bad feeling. I don’t know why, but there it is.
Rae: You know nothing about him.
Lisa: Oh, and you do? Excuse me but you don’t. You don’t, Rae, okay. You just wish
you did. So I’m warning you one last time, before you do anything stupid. It would be
so like you to do something stupid with a guy like that. Listen to me. Don’t text him.
Stay away from him, now when it’s nice and easy and nothing has happened yet.
Rae: You know what, I’m sick and tired of you nagging all the time. You’re so judging.
And you’re bonkers ⎯ what could he do to me?
Lisa: I’m bonkers? Sweetie, I’m not the one talking to myself in front of the mirror.

19:26 Rae: hi Kal this is Rae. waitress from Anker’s, just so that you place me muahaha
I did not just write muahaha.
Oh Hell, I did! Delete the message, quick! Shit, I can’t!
He’s not answering.
He’s not bloody answering.
Of course he’s not answering, I bet he can smell your desperation from the other side of
London. Pathetic.
Will you shut it for a month, Lisa?

23:08 Kal: Rae? redheaded, little, didn’t want to get me a free drink even though I sang
spectacularly well. yep perfectly placed :)

Oh my sweet Hell, he’s nice. HE’S NICE. And he didn’t ignore me!

23:29 Rae: hey!

23:47 Kal: just kidding. how’s it going?

28
 Chapter 6
Her

The lecture on cardiovascular surgery had just started when Eden Hawthorne’s phone
rang.
She shouldn’t answer it. She knew she shouldn’t.
She saw the professor pause in mid-sentence, a frown on his face. His eyes
racked the dozens of students surrounding him, and Eden willed herself to remain
seated. After all, she was privileged to be here, at the UCL Medical School, and it had
cost her a fortune, too. She shouldn’t waste this opportunity. But the tinny tune was still
blaring out of her phone, horribly loud in the middle of the whispering silence. She
risked a hasty glance at it. She probably wouldn’t have answered it, if, well –
If the name that lit up the screen had been anyone’s but his.
Hunched up in her seat, Eden held her phone up to an ear. She hissed: “Yes?”,
while the girls on either side of her rose their eyebrows at each other.
“My one and only,” a deep voice said on the other end of the line. “You busy
later?”
She felt her whole face transforming. She scrambled to her feet, feeling eyes on
her.
“I’m in class, you idiot,” she whispered, but she couldn’t help grinning.
She walked out of the lecture hall and into a corridor.
“Keep your voice down. I need to get back. Going to hang up on you in three
seconds,” Eden warned, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t, and both of them knew, had
known all the time. “So shut up. Get back to you later.”
“Listen. Want to grab something to eat? I’ll pick you up at one, all right?”
“All right. Now I really need to –”
“And afterwards,” said the man. “Afterwards we’ll do a spot of good old
hunting.”

***

Kal was waiting for Eden outside. In theory, she knew you couldn’t park there if you
weren’t a student or a member of the staff, but then again, Kal was Kal. She supposed
he’d somehow managed to sweet-talk his way inside. Again.
“Hey,” Eden said, clambering into the passenger seat of the car, a smooth,
glossy-black thing that reminded her of its owner.
He turned to smile at her. Though it shamed her to admit it, her pulse quickened
at the sight of him.
“Beautiful Eds,” Kal said. “How’re those classes of yours going?”
29
 “Great. I love it,” Eden said. “So satisfying, learning how to cut people up.”
Kal laughed. “Don’t want to get on the wrong side of you, then.”
Surreptitiously, Eden patted her hair into place. Her long blonde mane swept
down her back, gleaming from the hasty attack with her brush she’d subjected it to,
before leaving, though she wouldn’t confess even at gunpoint.
She’d considered herself in the mirror: she’d always been tall for a girl – five
feet ten. Back when she’d been at school, she’d always been the one placed at the very
back row in year photos. She’d hated it. It had made her feel self-conscious. Sometimes
it still did, even if she was twenty-two now and very mature and whatever. Why
couldn’t she be small, delicate, elfin? And don’t let her get started on guys. The shorter
ones were bound to be weird about her height; some idiot she’d dated for a while tended
to sulk whenever she wore high heels.
“What have you been up to these last weeks?” Eden asked Kal.
“Oh, you know, this and that. Working in that awful office. Then college gigs,
pubs. Little by little; the rise to immortal stardom isn’t easy, my girl. By the way, where
do you fancy going for lunch?”
“The Bee, obvs.”
The Bee, a tacky little restaurant in Bloomsbury, had been their haven for many
years. They’d spent countless hours on its plastic chairs, gossiping between mouthfuls
of greasy chips, revising for exams, or just chilling out and enjoying each other’s
company.
“Perfect.” Kal touched the panel to his left. “Let’s have a little music meanwhile,
shall we?” The sound of a reedy pop song filled the car, and, mouth quirking, he said:
“Don’t mean to boast, but I run rings around them. Objectively speaking, of course.”
Eden groaned. “Dude, you’re so full of shit. Remind me again how come I’m
your best mate.”
She remembered when they’d met. She’d been outside the principal’s office, a
willowy twelve-year-old with bad acne and a sharper tongue. She’d been given
detention for nicking the right femur from Fred the skeleton, whisking it out of the
science lab and then using it as an impromptu hockey stick.
Eden was glaring at anyone who dared look at her when this boy walked past.
She recognised him as someone from her after-school piano lessons. She was slightly
jealous of him, because Mrs McMillan always singled him out to play and sing solos.
She wished she had a voice like his, even if hers was okay. But his made her cry. And
then made her furious for crying. She’d spend the rest of the lesson with a dripping
nose, her mascara all over the place, claiming she had hay fever.
So she glared at him, of course. To her surprise, instead of averting his eyes like
the rest did, the boy winked at her.
Winked at her.
She’d stared at him in shock. Then, after a moment, she’d winked back. He’d
smiled. She’d smiled back.
And the rest is history.
Kal grinned now. “You know you love me really, Hawthorne.”
Yes. That was the problem, precisely, no matter how hard she tried to squash the
feeling down. It sat on her chest between her ribs like a heavy stone. Eden Hawthorne
was deeply, secretly in love with her closest friend, and she’d loved him for the last
seven years.

***

30
The chorus of Back to Black erupted into the air when the front door opened.
“Christ. What is this racket?”
A brisk clatter of shoes, and my delightful flatmate Sean walked into the living
room, coat in hand, a frown on his face.
“It’s Amy Winehouse, Sean,” I said. “Not a racket. But I’ll turn it down, since
you asked so nicely.”
I was celebrating, as a matter of fact. I’d just passed my latest exams with flying
colours and Head Fireman Williams had informed me personally I was now ready for
the next part of the training. Ecstatic as I’d been, I felt my earlier mood deflating at
Sean’s presence.
Boy did that guy know how to sour anyone in an instant. We’d been sharing this
flat in Camden Town for a couple of years, sometimes accompanied by other people,
sometimes not, and you’d think we’d be used to coinhabiting by now, but we weren’t.
Sean was a hygiene maniac and insisted on hiring a cleaner, but I thought it was totally
unnecessary. He claimed I always made too much noise and frowned on me having
friends over, while I wished he’d lighten up. He’d recently graduated with a Literature
degree and looked down his nose on anyone who didn’t read The Odyssey for fun.
In other words, we couldn’t stand each other.
Sean strode out of sight. I heard the fridge click open and the hiss of a can.
“You better turn it right off. I’ve got to work on my doctoral thesis and I can’t
hear myself think. Weren’t you going to be away this evening, in fact?” he called from
the kitchen.
I resisted the urge to bash him on the head with whatever was at hand.
“Hey, you really know how to make a girl feel wanted, Sean. And no, change of
plan. I’m staying in tonight, sorry to disappoint you.”
“Why?”
He reappeared in the doorway, sipping at a beer. He ran a hand over his crew
cut. There was something of the bloodhound about Sean: he had heavy jowls, drooping,
melancholy eyes, and a restless manner. I could imagine him briskly sniffing around for
plump rabbits only too well.
“Well, I’ve got to babysit someone,” I said. “My parents are going out tonight
and he hates being left on his own, you see.”
“What? Babysit here? I thought I’d just told you I need silence. And where’s the
kid, anyway?”
I fought down a smirk. “Don’t worry, you won’t hear a squeak from him.” I
whistled. “Cerb, come here, boy. There’s a good boy.”
A moment later, the room crashed into sound as the coffee table was knocked
over. Sean raised his eyes from the smashed pieces of a vase to the hulking black form
in front of him. I saw the colour bleed out of his face.
“W-what is that?”
“He’s not a that. He’s a who,” I said, grinning. “Sean, meet lovely Cerberus.
Cerb, this is Sean. No, you can’t chew his leg off yet, lovie. Better wait when he’s
distracted.”

***

“A steak for you, sir – and what would you like, miss? A salad, maybe?”
Eden glared at the waiter. “Or maybe not. I’d like a cheeseburger, please.
Actually, make that two cheeseburgers; I’m starving.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Kal snorted. She turned her scowl on him.

31
 “What’s so funny?”
“You, Eds. You remind me of my aunt’s growling Yorkshire terrier.”
“It gets on my fucking nerves, you know. Everyone assuming I don’t eat just
because I’m a girl, like I should be all delicate or something. That’s plain sexism, that’s
what it is. You know what, I’m going to go to the demonstration on women’s rights next
month, see if I don’t –"
“…right.” Kal cleared his throat. “Hey, my folks are hosting a dinner or
whatever at theirs in a couple of weeks, want to come? They’re always gushing on
about you, Eden. Saying you’re such a ‘good influence’ on me. Or some crap of the
sort.”
She took a huge defiant bite from her cheeseburger. “That’s not crap.”
“You know what I mean. Take pity on me, please. I can’t stand another evening
of lecturing on martyrdom. It’s nauseating.”
“Mm.”
“It’ll be bearable if you’re there with me. Go on, Eds. Nate’s great. My aunt and
uncle are great. And Cassandra’s not that bad either, as long as you’re wearing earplugs
the entire time you’re speaking to her.”
A wheeze of laughter from Eden.
“Kal, be kind, you bastard.”
There it was again, the effect he had on her. Then he saw the smile sliding from
her face as she looked at him.
“You’re really not like them, are you? You’re – you’re different,” she said,
quietly.
She wasn’t judging him, not Eden, never Eden, but he felt himself stiffening
nonetheless.
“I guess I am,” Kal said, in as light a tone as he managed to.
A trickle of pain. He shoved it down.
She was right. He was different, no matter how long the trail of dead demons in
his wake grew. Different from his family, with their absurd sacrifices and infuriating
virtuousness and limpid gazes. Different from her, the solemn doctor who, even if she
was cranky, strove to save lives. He’d feel it, sometimes, in a glance shot at him from
the corner of their eyes and in the shadow of an expression rippling across a face.
Kal Mellketh was an outcast. He’d been one all his life.
When they were finished, they walked out into the grey January day. At the
entrance of the restaurant there was a beggar crouching in a tangle of crumpled
newspapers.
“How’re you doing, John?” Kal said, dropping a fiver into the man’s upturned
cap.
“Gettin’ by, lad. Gettin’ by.” The beggar smiled down at the cap. “You’re a good
person, mister Mellketh.”
“Totally,” Kal agreed. “Sometimes, at any rate.”

***

“He gets a bit over-excited with strangers, that’s all. Not to worry,” I said. “Down,
Cerb.”
Cerberus tapped at Sean’s chest with a paw the size of a small African village,
and let out a plaintive whine.
“He wants you to play with him, Sean,” I said, chuckling. “Go on, humour him.”
My flatmate struggled into a sitting position, still white in the face.

32
 “Is he a – a mutant or something? Or is he ill? Why does he have – why is he…”
“Three-headed?” I suggested, and he gave a shaky nod.
The thing is, he was the guardian of the gates of Hell, up until ten years ago
when he suffered a nasty femur fracture on his left hind leg and They considered him no
longer able to do his job properly, you see. Then my parents and I adopted him.
“Er. Nothing’s wrong with him, aside from his limp. He was. Um. Born that
way,” I mumbled. “He’s just a poor stray we took in.”
Cerberus looked insulted.
“Huh. Right,” mumbled Sean.
He gingerly balanced a stuffed giraffe in front of my dog’s three pairs of huge
eyes, which flickered from side to side as though he were watching a riveting tennis
match.
Cerberus was having a ball here on Earth, as a matter of fact. He couldn’t
believe he’d gone thousands of years without playing tug-of-war, and he made a mental
note to develop another incorrigible limp, just in case the lot from Below poked their
noses in mortal affairs and started asking awkward questions. He didn’t miss it one little
bit: the Damned were no fun at all. Plus, he considered gravely, there were no cats to
chase in the Underworld.
Then he leapt up into the air with an overjoyed bark and snatched the toy off
Sean’s hand, nearly ripping his fingers in the process.
Toy between his teeth, Cerb sat by Sean’s side, tail thumping on the carpet.
“Good boy,” Sean murmured, patting each of his heads in turn. “Lovely boy.”
I beamed at them both. “Hey, I think you’re going to get on just fine.”

***

The demon was lying on the grass in Hyde Park, scrolling through his phone.
“Are you sure he’s …?” Eden whispered, as they approached.
“Of course I’m sure. Quit fussing, Eds.”
“Well, you quit being so … so reckless, Kal. You never stop to think for a single
minute. What if we get it wrong one day and kill an innocent human? Like – like your
moth– ”
Kal’s chest tightened. “We won’t.”
The demon glanced up at the sound of their footsteps.
“Hey.” Eden ruffled her blonde hair and smiled at him. “You got a fag, mate?”
The man smiled back at her. “Might have one just for you, beautiful.”
It was as he turned sideways to rummage in his bag that she lunged forward,
sending the phone flying through the air.
“What the –”
The demon jolted in shock, and tried to pry the girl off his chest, but Eden was
strong. She straddled him and pinned him down firmly. A second later Kal was by her
side.
“Is this some kind of sick joke or something?” Then the demon tensed, and
hissed: “Angels.” He spat at them.
Kal felt the saliva dripping down his nose.
“Now, now, no need to be rude,” he said.
The demon struggled beneath their hands, snarling curses at them. Kal and Eden
concentrated, together, in perfect synchrony, as the shadows shuddered around them and
the air rippled.

33
 A minute. Sweat started to trickle down their foreheads. Two minutes. Kal’s
heart was pounding with the effort. Four. Then they felt the man go limp under their
grasp, and they watched his jaw slacken. There was a lull, and the shadows coiled again
into the corners with a hiss.
“Holy shit,” Eden panted, slumping down on the grass. “This one put up a
fight.”
Kal was staring at the freshly Forgotten demon sprawled next to her. They had
about ten minutes left before he came to.
“Doesn’t it sometimes strike you how it’s – too easy for them? That they should
suffer more?” Kal burst out.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.
Eden shot him an exasperated look.
“You know the theory, Kal. Nobody deserves to suffer, not even demons, and so
on and so forth. We only remove them because they’re a threat to human society.
Because they’re evil and disrupt the balance of the world, not because they actually
deserve to. Right?”
Wrong.
“Besides, I’m willing to bet they do suffer,” Eden said. “Imagine what it feels
like, being Forgotten. Nobody remembering you, not even your nearest and dearest.
Talking through you. Not seeing you. As if you were invisible, or never existed in the
first place. I’d go mad.” A pause. “And then Forgetting yourself. Forgetting to eat and
drink and sleep. Forgetting your body, feeling like it doesn’t belong to you, so you end
up chopping off a hand, or a leg.” Then, matter-of-factly, as an afterthought: “They all
die, of course, or do away with themselves.”
“Don’t you lecture me too, Eden,” Kal snapped. He saw the stung look on her
face, but he couldn’t help it, didn’t care. “They killed my parents. They killed them.” He
cursed the tremor in his voice. “My mother wasn’t even an angel. She was human, but
they killed her anyway. Maybe you’re right, okay? I don’t want to be like that – don’t
want the blood of innocents on my hands. I’ll be less reckless – happy now? ”
He could still conjure up the sound of his father’s booming laugh the summer he
taught him to ride a bike. The feel of his mother’s soft hands when he curled up against
her to watch old white-and-black films. Her favourite had been Casablanca; she’d been
able to recite whole passages of it by heart.
“They weren’t even too fond of demon hunting; they were more of the helping-
others-crap kind of people. And I was a kid. Imagine how that felt like.” He was
breathing hard. “They ended their lives, ruined Nate’s life. Ruined me. So no, don’t you
bloody dare lecture me, Eden.”
Eden appraised him coldly. “Are you done shouting like a madman?”
Kal turned away from her, his face tight. Then, after a moment, he said: “Come
on. We should get a move on.” He sighed and swallowed his pride. “I’m sorry, Eds.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Then something caught Kal’s gaze: a sleek bulge on the demon’s wrist that
glinted in the watery sunlight. He kneeled down, clicked the expensive watch off and
casually slipped it into his own pocket. Eden watched with pursed lips and said nothing.
As they left, Kal hastened one last glance over his shoulder at the – the flea, and
felt a singular sense of peace spread over him.
“I’d like to say I’m sorry,” he told the being on the grass. “But I’m not.”
With a thrill, he wondered who the next one would be.

34
Eden’s list of the ten things She Hates The Most (in no
particular order)

1. People who are too lazy to take their coats off on public transport even if it’s thirty
bloody degrees inside.
2. Anything that advertises as fat-free or wholemeal or sugarless. What’s the point of
eating it, then?
3. Guys who leave their disgusting socks on when you sleep with them. Dude, honestly.
Fuckssakes.
4. Plucking your moustache hairs ⎯ mediaeval torture sounds like a ball compared to
this.
5. People who shout instead of speaking like a normal human being.
6. That moment when someone nicks food from your plate when you haven’t even
offered to share. I’m instantly overwhelmed by this very strong urge to chop their hand
off.
7. People who confuse my name and call me something weird like Paradise.
8. Smelly people. I mean, I’m sure they’re excellent folks and all the rest of it, but there
you go. I hate them, yeah.
9. Running into an acquaintance at the Tube and then having to make polite small talk
and pretending you’re a nice person all the way till your stop. Exhausting.
10. Finding dead bugs drowned in your soup.

Wait, does it only have to be ten things? Can’t you make it twenty?

35
 Chapter 7
The Carrowses

I answered the phone on the second ring, grinning. If neither of us was busy, Vanessa
and I were in the habit of phoning each other up at ten o’clock, every other day, for a
good, gossipy chat.
“Whorequeen and Whoresupreme, the old firm. How can I help you?” I said,
slouching further down my bed. I was planning to be as lazy as possible this Saturday
morning. “Hunks chained and bound, slander spread, arses spanked.”
There was a puzzling stretch of silence on the other end of the line. Then the
static filled with the sound of someone bursting out laughing.
“Vanessa? Vanessa!”
I was struck by a sudden, horrible suspicion. I dragged the phone away from my
cheek and looked down at the screen.
Vanessa’s name did not appear on it.
“You know something, Laurel?” I told my stuffed pony. “Life is a bitch.”
I sighed, then held the damn thing to my ear again, pink in the face. “Hey.”
“I must confess that’s the most original and enthusiastic way anyone’s ever
greeted me,” Kal Mellketh said. “Loved it.”
I giggled despite myself. “I know. I regret to inform you we don’t, er, deliver
those, er, services, in fact.”
“Pity,” Kal said. He was still sniggering, the bastard. “Tempting as those sound,
I was actually going to suggest if you felt like meeting up for coffee this afternoon. I
know just the place.”
I hesitated. Triumphant as I’d felt last Friday when we’d exchanged numbers,
I’d come to my senses the morning after, thankfully.
What was I doing? I’d done exactly what I was certain he’d expected of me: join
his well-supplied collection of fawning women. No, I refused to be part of it. I wouldn’t
last past date one, and he was bound to be the kind of guy who got a kick out of having
girls on a string.
Besides, there was Ben to think of. I didn’t want to dump him when all he’d
proved to be was kind and intelligent. Well, mostly. Even if he was a bit patronising.
And boring. And so serious.
“Rae?” Kal said.
I closed my eyes, ignoring the urge in my body to agree to his plans and to see
him as soon as possible. Hearing his voice was an acute reminder of how strongly I was
attracted to him.

36
 But there’s something – wrong – about him, isn’t there? Lisa piped up in my
head. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. Careful, now. Be very careful.
“Can’t. I’m busy this afternoon,” I stammered, and waited, in agony. I just
wanted the conversation to be over.
“Alright. Next week, then. I should be able to squeeze you in next week.”
This was it. I steeled myself.
“Look, Kal, I don’t think this is actually a good idea. Us hanging out, I mean.”
There was a beat. “Rae, I’m not going to kidnap you or anything, you know.” He
sounded wry.
“Um. I just don’t think it is.”
“Right,” he said, and the smile had slid from his voice altogether. “See you
around, then.”
“See you,” I whispered, and hung up on him.

***

My parents’ home had many doors.

The one I was standing at, ringing the bell, for instance, was called Frida. She
thought of herself very highly indeed, what with being the front door and all. She
insisted that we bow to her every time we arrive, otherwise she wouldn’t open.
“Hey,” I told the oak surface. The white paint was chipping off her in long strips.
“Here I am.”
I was feeling rather bad-tempered after the whole exchange with Kal –
somehow, I kept going over if I’d made the right decision. I wasn’t in the mood for
grovelling to a pompous door. I reached out and rang the bell again, even though I knew
this wouldn’t make Frida open, if she didn’t agree to, no matter how hard my parents
yanked at her from the other side.
“Oh, for Hell’s sake,” I hissed, and bowed. “Please, Frida. I promise I’ll polish
you and paint you all over whichever colour you like if you let me in, there’s a good
girl.”
There was a reluctant pause, and the door swung open with a screech. I stepped
into the hallway, where my father was dusting a pair of shoes.
“Oh, hello, dear,” he said in low tones. “We weren’t expecting you so early. But
come in, come in.”
I hugged him close and shut Frida carefully behind me. She was so offended if
you slammed her. For the past five years, my parents had been living in a sleepy little
town a perfect commuting distance from London. Their house boasted a luxurious front
garden full of industrious garden gnomes.
“How are the gnomes doing?” I asked, noticing the soot on his hands. “Giving
you any trouble?”
“Oh, they’re a marvel. They help me no end with my flowers and veggies,” he
said, then frowned. “Well, apart from Peter. I sacked him last week; he did nothing but
smoke and sulk. Caught him nicking tomatoes. Nah. I’m not having anyone ruining my
garden, oh no I’m not.”
Alexander Carrows would rather go to Heaven than let his beloved plants wilt.
“I brought scones for tea,” I said. “Your favourites.”
My father beamed at me. The electric light shone down on his bald head.
“Lovely. Thank you very much, Rae. But keep your voice down, dear, your
mother is being worshipped right now.”

37
 I lowered my voice to a murmur and followed him to the kitchen. “Oh, right.
What was the name of the sect again?”
“Growing Darkness, it’s called,” my father said. He tied a striped apron around
his ever-growing waist, with a flourish, and peered down into the oven. “Excuse me for
a moment, dear. I’ve got to check on the chicken. Mustn’t let it burn again.”
Growing Darkness, that was it. It was, in my opinion, one of the lamest devil-
worship sect names in history; it sounded like a club for people with cataracts, but I
wouldn’t tell poor Mum for the world, obviously.
“Rae?”
The kitchen sprung into sound as my mother kicked the door open. This one was
named Andreas and he was the laziest of his kind I’d come across. More often than not
he pretended to be a wall instead of a door. We’d stand there at lunchtime starving of
hunger for ages before he bothered to let us in. I’d learnt to sneak emergency supplies of
chocolate and crisps upstairs to my bedroom and wolfed them down whenever this
happened.
A grin broke out on my mother’s face.
“Darling, I knew that was you. I heard the sound of your breath. Quite
unmistakable.”
She had startingly sharp ears, even for a demon. It had made sneaking out at
night a pain in the neck; teen me had devised all sorts of strategies to avoid it, and nine
out of ten times I was caught red-handed and sent back to bed in a mighty sulk.
“Hey, Mum, everything all right? You’re looking fabulous.”
Deborah Carrows preened, smoothing down the heavy black tunic that trailed
down to her feet.
“Always look the part, that’s my motto,” she said in a confidential whisper.
“Otherwise folk don’t buy it. But dim the lights, add some spooky music and Bob’s
your uncle.” She grabbed my arm. “Come along. I want you to learn; after all, it’ll be up
to you to keep the tradition going, someday.”
“Mum, you know I’m not interested in –”
“Don’t be silly, darling. It’s every demon’s dream to have a satanic sect fawning
at their feet. Even lesser ones like us.” She chuckled. “These poor town fools are
suckers for this kind of thing. It adds a bit of excitement to their dreary lives. And it’s a
nice little source of income for us.”
“But – aren’t you sort of – warping – these poor people?”
“Stuff and nonsense. They enjoy these evenings, and then they get back to their
normal lives,” my mother said. “No harm done, unfortunately. And I won’t have that
silly compassion from you again, Rae. I’ve raised you better than that, child.”
She marched me through the maze-like dark corridors of the house, her bright
copper hair whipping behind her. I followed, feeling like a sullen teenager again.
Then she stopped in front of an oak door, and nudged it open. We stepped inside
a large, darkened room. The only meagre source of light was the flicker of candlelight,
which cast a quivering glow on the faces that stared up at us in awe. A reverent silence
fell over the cluster of people sitting on the floor. Inside the circle they formed, I could
see the shape of a pentagram drawn in white chalk. Something black dripped from a pot
onto the floor, and the spreading puddle reflected the flames.
“My Dark people,” my mother announced in her powerful voice, over the eerie
background music. “We have the honour of having a visitor among us today. I’d like to
introduce you to my daughter, Rae Carrows, Creature of Night, Princess of Evil. She
has bested hundreds of angels in fight. Mothers whisper her name to their children when

38
Night arrives, and grown men have been known to cry in fear for her. Look at her, and
worship her.”
I could feel a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on me. I squirmed, mortified, standing
next to my mother. I’ve never been one to bask in the spotlight.
“Er,” I mumbled. “Hi.”
Then my mother snatched her phone off a table and paused the YouTube video
on the screen. The music stopped.
“Mum, don’t you think you overdid it a bit?” I hissed. “All the titles stuff.”
“Of course not, darling. They loved it; didn’t you notice?” she said to me in an
undertone. Then she clapped her hands, and added, in a louder voice: “Right, folks. Tea
break. Does anyone fancy a cuppa? Rae, go put the kettle on, please, and bring those
scones of yours, there’s a dear.”

***

Ben was already seated at our booked table at La Piazza when I dashed inside.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, flopping down opposite him, panting. “My mum
wouldn’t let go of me.”
Ben sipped at his wine, mild disapproval on his features.
“Mm. Nothing wrong, I hope?”
He was dressed in a designer shirt that would have kept me fed for an entire
year, and his beige hair was combed and slicked back. He looked as though he were part
of the restaurant’s expensive furniture, smooth, well-oiled and perfectly lifeless.
“Oh, no. Everything’s all right,” I said. “She just insisted on showing me how to
run the, er, family, er, business.”
“Family business? I didn’t know your family ran a business,” Ben said.
At that moment, the waiter materialised by our side and set down a couple of
steaming dishes. I looked at Ben, bewildered.
“Oh, yes, I took the liberty of ordering for the two of us,” he said, smiling his
beige smile. “Gorgonzola gnocchi for me, spaghetti with veggies for you. Both are my
favourites, so we can share, eh?”
His favourites. I could feel my temper flaring.
“You could’ve waited for me, you know,” I said. “I would’ve chosen something
different.”
“Rae, we would still be agonising over where to have dinner if it were for you,
my beauty. And do me a favour and try your spaghetti, eh? Veggies are good for you.
Besides, you want to watch your figure,” he said, in cloying tones, and he leaned over
and patted my head.
He actually patted my head, as though I were an unruly Golden Retriever. Had
he really said that? And why was I sitting frozen on the spot like a good little doll, not
even able to muster a response?
“What was I saying?” Ben asked, scooping up a spoonful of gnocchi.
“My family business,” I said, and hated myself for it. I stabbed at a piece of
tomato as if I had a personal grudge against it.
Why hadn’t I retorted anything before? Why did I always find it so hard to stand
up for myself? It was pathetic. I was pathetic.
“Nah,” Ben said, with a deprecating wave of the hand, and then I hated him. “I
was just about to explain to you the latest architectural techniques that are being
developed in Eastern countries. It’s really fascinating, because –”
He launched into a decidedly un-fascinating monologue.

39
 I put down my fork. I looked at Ben Davies, really looked at him, as he droned
on over the soft background music. With the force of a bullet train, it hit me.
What the actual Hell was I doing here?
I slipped out a handful of notes from my handbag and flung them down on the
table. Ben, irritated to be cut off in mid-monologue, rose an eyebrow.
“Rae? Is something the matter?”
“Yes, actually, there is,” I said, and got to my feet. “Everything.”
“What? What’s the matter? Rae, sit down again this instant, you’re showing me
up,” he hissed.
“Sorry, Ben. You’ll have to deal with that yourself.”
I scraped my chair back, making a satisfactory screeching noise that caused a
handful of well-dressed clients to turn and stare in my direction.
“Rae, don’t be so childish.”
“Thanks for everything, Ben. It’s been fun,” I said. “Sort of. And, just to make
things clear, I’m not your beauty.”
I walked out of the restaurant without looking back. Then I fished out my phone
from my pocket, took a deep breath, and dialled Kal Mellketh’s number.

40
21:32 Ben: what the hell just happened? don’t understand
21:34 Ben: now get back this instant
22:03 Ben: answer me for fuck’s sake
22:16 Ben: come on dinner’s on me
22:17 Ben: call me Rae please anytime, we can make this work, I know we can
22:28 Ben: ???
23:56 Ben: fine suit yourself, don’t come running back to me crying later
23:58 Ben: bitch

41
 Chapter 8
Trade

Kal wasn’t coming.

I checked the time on my phone for the fifth time: ten past eight. He was ten
minutes late. After I’d called him, he’d agreed to meet up with me for a quick drink at a
pub he’d suggested. I hadn’t explained about the change of plan or why I’d turned him
down that morning on the phone, because I hadn’t really known what to say. He hadn’t
asked either, much to my relief.
I drained the rest of the coffee I’d ordered, my hands shaking with nerves so
badly I spilt some onto the table. I didn’t even really like coffee. But I hadn’t wanted to
look like a prat, sitting there by myself doing nothing, obviously waiting for someone.
Twenty past. My guts gave another vicious churn. The caffeine was doubling my
already skyrocketing anxiety. I checked my phone for any messages he might have left.
Nothing. Radio silence.
Twenty-five past.
I felt both indignant and humiliated. He definitely wasn’t coming.
Why would he, when I’d turned him down this morning? Why would a guy like
that ever agree to hang out with me? He could’ve at least told me he couldn’t make it in
the end, anyway, instead of standing me up and making me feel like an idiot. Who did
he think he was?
I stood up. If I sat there a second longer, I’d explode. I asked a nearby waiter
where the Ladies’ was and rushed off. I looked at myself severely in the mirror.
“You’re fine,” I told myself. “You’re not going to wait a second longer for that
bastard, you’re going straight home and you’re going to stuff your face with takeaway
pizza. You’re fine.”
I took a deep breath. He was so not worth it, and pizza and a chick flick sounded
like a plan. Buoyed by this, I stepped out of the toilet and into the rumble of noise once
again. The air was sharp with the tang of smoke. A Dua Lipa song was playing in the
background. And there, totally at ease, sitting at the small corner table where I’d left my
jacket and my empty coffee cup, was –
“Kal,” I croaked out.
Kal Mellketh looked up from the book he was reading. He smiled a long lazy
smile at me, the way a panther might stretch in the sun. It did strange things to my body,
that smile of his.

42
 “Hey,” he said, pocketing the paperback into the depths of his coat. This
surprised me, as I hadn’t pegged him down as the reading type. I guess you never know.
“Sorry I’m late. Sometimes I’m a bit of a pain in the arse. Got distracted, etc.”
“It’s fine,” I said, sitting down to his right. I was careful and vain enough to face
him with my scarless side. My voice was high-pitched from nerves. “Is that for me?”
He pushed one of the beer bottles towards me. “Yeah. This round’s on me.”
“Great, thanks,” I said, feeling my annoyance start to subside. I looked about the
quaint little pub. “Nice place. Do you come here often?”
“Every now and again. My mates like it here.” He shrugged. “Drown our
troubles.”
“Drown your troubles? What kind of troubles?” I asked.
Kal shook his head and half-smiled. “You ask too many questions, Rae,” he said.
“Very well,” I said, over the rim of my bottle. “I’ll trade you. A question for a
question. An answer for an answer.”
He looked at me. I was finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him, to be
honest; he still somewhat intimidated me. His mere presence made a terrified sort of
exhilaration flare up in me.
“You’re a curious girl, you know that?”
“Curious as in interesting, or as nosy? Or as in complete psycho?”
“Now that you outlined all the options,” Kal said, solemnly, “probably all three.”
“Cheek. Right, you up for the question-answer game, then, or not?” I asked,
grinning. “Eight questions. Four each. And you have to be truthful about the answers;
otherwise it’s no fun.”
A gulp of beer. “Okay, mad weirdo,” Kal said. “I don’t dare disagree with you
any longer.”
“You’d better not. Can we ask about anything at all, then?”
“Okay, now I’m really regretting agreeing to this.”
“I’ll start. Let me think for a minute.” I racked my brain, staring up at the black-
and-white Marilyn Monroe that pouted from a poster over Kal’s head. “Okay, okay, I
have one. If you could choose anyone in the world as a dinner guest, who would it be?”
Kal considered this for a moment, hands steepled. The delicate silver ring on his
left pinkie finger caught the light and glinted.
“Anyone? Living or dead?” he asked.
“Either.”
“Easy. Freddy Mercury,” he said, and sat back in his chair, triumphantly.
“Him? Why?”
“Do you remember when I said last week that I thought I’d like you?”
“Er, yes?”
“I take it back.”
I snorted. “Why?”
“That’s what I want to know. Why are we even discussing the reason Freddy
Mercury is my ideal dinner guest? The dinner guest. I mean, Freddy Mercury,” Kal said,
and pounded a fist down on the table, for emphasis. The liquid in the bottles danced.
“It’s bloody Queen. I love them to death.”
“Yeah, that much I gathered,” I said, laughing.
“Okay, my turn now,” Kal said, downing the last of his beer. He eyed the
approaching waitress and, with a polite smile, gestured to the empty bottles. “Drinks
taken care of. Now, Rae. This is a really good one. If there was a fire in your house and
you could only save one thing, what would it be?”

43
 I thought for a moment, chewing on a strand of hair, which I know is a perfectly
disgusting habit and not the best move to pull a guy. I lowered my hands and tried to
look like a normal person.
“Equally easy, Kal. My running shoes,” I said. “So there.”
He rose a dark brow. “Running shoes? Aren’t you meant to say your favourite
dress or your eyeshadow palette or something of the sort?”
“Oi, you,” I said. “Being female doesn’t make me automatically crazy about
fashion or cosmetics, you know. I love jogging, as a matter of fact. I’m thinking of
signing up for a marathon this year.”
The look on Kal’s face, I felt, made up for the tension I’d been coiled up in all
day.
“Wow. Really? You must have a serious training schedule, then,” he said.
I nodded, more delighted with his response than I’d actually admit.
“Pretty much. It helps that I’m a firefighter trainee. So yeah. But enough about
me,” I said, glancing at my almost-empty bottle sideways. Where had all the beer gone?
“Right, second question. Here goes. Who would you try to – no, better yet, who would
you trust your life with?”
“Eden,” he said, not even pausing to think. “My best friend. Man, she’s
amazing.”
I tried to ignore the idiotic jealousy creeping up my throat.
“Yeah? What’s she like?” I asked.
“She’s smart and funny and snarky and generous. She can be a huge bitch too,
I’ll grant you that. But she’s great, Eden is.” He was smiling as he talked about her, his
whole face lit up. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. She’s my rock. I’d trust
her to the end of the world and back.”
“Mm. She sounds nice,” I said, and knew I sounded like I was delivering a death
sentence.
“Only sometimes. Right, let me think of a question for you, Carrows,” Kal said,
tipping his chair backwards. He tapped his fingers on the wooden table. They were a
musician’s fingers, long and dexterous. “Okay. Here goes. This is a deep one. What’s
your biggest regret?”
Taken aback, I stared at him. “My – my biggest regret?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. Yes. That.” My mouth turned dry. “Simple. I have no regrets.”
“Rae. I’m not buying that for a moment. Everyone has regrets, big or small.”
“Even you?” I asked.
“Especially me,” Kal Mellketh, the singer, the stranger, said. “Now spill.”
I sighed. For a second I considered telling him a half-baked story about the first
thing that popped into my head. But I knew, then. This was a tacit bargain of sorts, Kal’s
and mine.
“One day, when I was fourteen, no, fifteen,” I halted into speech. I could feel the
buzz of the alcohol in my blood. I wondered if it was responsible for my loosening
tongue. “I, um, hurt a man.”
I expected him to lift an eyebrow in veiled disbelief, or come out with something
along the lines that come on, I was only a small skinny girl and did I really expect him
to swallow that?
But Kal did nothing of those things.
“Badly?” he asked.

44
 “Badly,” I whispered back, and the blood rang in my ears. “Very badly. It was –
it was an accident. I hadn’t meant – I swear I hadn’t meant to – oh, I’ll never forgive
myself …”
I buried my face in my hands. Why had I told him? And now he’d want to know
why, and of course I couldn’t tell him the truth and –
Kal rested a hand on my shoulder, gently. At his touch there was a shudder in the
world, a shifting of shadows that reminded me of – now what did it remind me of
exactly?
“Hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay. Your secrets are your own. I’m sorry if I upset
you.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “No, I’m just being stupid. And exaggerating stuff. It
wasn’t such a big deal, honestly.”
It was a lie, and a terrible one at that. Both of us knew perfectly.
There was an awkward silence for a moment. Kal then ran a hair through his
black hair, and rose a brow in that elegantly ironic manner of his.
He said: “Well, isn’t this a nice light conversation? Fabulous icebreaker at
parties. I use it all the time.”
I laughed at that, relieved at his neat manoeuvring out of a disaster.
“Moron,” I said. “Well, I’m going to get back at you, you know. Now, Kal, pray
tell me, in all manner of details, what’s your most embarrassing memory?”
He groaned. “Oh my god. You’re heartless. Utterly heartless.”
“You’re welcome.” I grinned.
“Ugh. Well. Wait a second, I’ve got to choose. I’ve got quite a nice little
collection of embarrassing moments. Okay.” He rose his head and cleared his throat in a
dramatic fashion. “I must have been eighteen at the time, I think. I was at a house party
of a friend of a friend’s, here in London. I didn’t know many people, but I’ve never had
a problem with that, and just walked up to people and larked around, you know the sort
of thing.”
I certainly didn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“So, I’m mingling in this huge house, right – it was huge, they must have been
loaded – buzzed from a few rounds. I’m standing by the pool with some guys I’ve just
met because my friends, the bastards, are nowhere to be seen, and from the corner of my
eye I notice a small gang of pretty girls nearby watching me. Eyeing me, more like, and
giggling to themselves.”
Emboldened by the beer, I mimed gagging.
“Shut up. That’s an essential part of the story, smart-arse,” Kal said. “And
speaking of which. They’re sort of actually eyeing my arse, to be more accurate.
They’re turning around and their eyes are flickering and it’s getting rather obvious. And
I didn’t blame them at all, you know. I really do have a first-class arse, in case you
haven’t noticed. You can ask anyone about it.”
Of course I’d noticed, you’d have to be a vegetable not to, but I concentrated on
sounding airy.
“You don’t do low self-esteem, do you?” I said.
“Low self-esteem? A nasty habit I do my best to avoid, certainly,” said Kal. His
smile could have been an advertisement for a top-tier dental clinic. “Anyway. These
girls are staring at me and me being me, and me being a bloke, well, to be honest, I bask
in it all. I turn this way and that to give them a better view – don’t groan, Rae, hear me
out – and when my new friends laugh, I laugh the hardest and the loudest. And then –
oh god –” Kal started to laugh, such a full laugh I couldn’t help grinning too. “And then

45
this girl walks up to me, the prettiest of the lot, dressed in a sequinned silvery thingy.
She beckons to me, so I waggle my brows at the lads, all triumphant, and join her. She
looks at me, and says in a polite whisper: “Um. Hi. I just wanted to warn you that your,
er, trousers are filthy. Drenched. You must’ve spilt a drink over yourself or something.
So yeah. Just thought someone should tell you.”
I let out a gleeful guffaw. “You’re kidding me. But how?”
“Don’t laugh, you. It was mortifying,” Kal said, but he was laughing himself. “I
must’ve sat down on a puddle of red wine, I suppose, because when I dragged them off
they were bright red, all over the butt area. Yeah. Well, at least I hope it was wine. I
didn’t notice a thing because alcohol is as good an anaesthetic as any other.”
“And the girls,” I said. “You weren’t friends after that?”
“Friends? They were sniggering their heads off, and kept clear of me the rest of
the night. Served me right, I guess. Someone had to take me down a notch,” Kal said,
shaking his head. “I was fucking unbearable then.”
By now I was feeling comfortable enough in his presence to tease him. “Was?
You sure about that?”
He elbowed me. “Oi. I’m a changed man nowadays.”
“Yeah, sure.”
It struck me, suddenly, that I liked him. Under the glossy, strutting exterior I’d
caught glimpses of someone self-deprecating, witty, and genuine. It was impossible not
to thaw under his easy charm and quick smile. I decided then that I wanted to get to
know him better – Kal Mellketh, whoever he was.
I realised I’d been staring at him for an unreasonable amount of time when he
tilted his head and looked back at me. I reddened, and felt the quality of our silence
change. There was an edge to the silence now. A delicious sharpness.
“Last question for you,” Kal said. His voice was a low rumble, sleek as lies.
He leaned over towards me. A crackle in the air, and there it was, that niggling
feeling in the back of my head. What was I trying to remember that I kept forgetting? I
could feel the knowledge skulking … somewhere … somehow … it was taking shape,
arranging itself into a word …
But then Kal spoke, and it slipped into oblivion again.
“What are you thinking, Rae Carrows?” he whispered, leaning towards me.
His breath was warm, and his dark hair tickled my cheek. Goosebumps erupted
over my skin. I looked straight ahead, drunk on cheap beer, drunk on the smell of him.
Silence within the silence. And I thought, Kal Mellketh, make love to me with gentle
hands and a whisper in my ear. Kal Mellketh, clutch me tight. Kal Mellketh, let me taste
your warm skin and the sun in your eyes and the gale in your voice.
“Oh, nothing interesting,” I said, innocently, in the silence within the silence.
“Just the weather.”
He flashed me a small, dangerous smile.
“Me too,” said Kal. “I’ve a feeling there’s a storm on the way.”

46
12:32 Rae: what’s your name short for, then? Kalvin?
12:48 Kal: Simon actually
13:02 Rae: you’re hilarious :/
13:53 Kal: I know, aren’t I?
13:54 Kal: it’s not an abbreviation, it’s just short and sweet
13:56 Rae: neither of which you are :)
14:09 Kal: even if you’re mean to me, I like you, Rae-possibly-short-for-Rachel. A lot.
Just so you know.

47
 Chapter 9
Edges

What nobody told you about the Market was that it was chock-full of weirdos.
The first one that strolled by my stall was a woman, grey-haired, small tote bag
hoisted over her shoulder.
“Excuse me,” she said. “You wouldn’t happen to be the Carrows’ daughter, by
any chance?”
“That’s right,” I said.
The woman let out a chuckle of delight. “Thought so. Like two peas in a pod.
Isn’t your family around, dear? I’d like to say hello. And I wanted to carry out some
business, if possible.”
I wondered who she was. I felt a prickle of annoyance at her patronising tone. I
wasn’t a kid, for goodness’ sake; I was a month away from my twentieth birthday.
“They’re busy today, I’m afraid. But you can rely on me for anything you wish.”
“Lovely. Well, um –” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “A friend of mine told
me about your special bargains…?”
“Yes,” I said, sliding a sheet of paper over to her. “Check them out if you like.
We’re interested in all kinds of souls: large, small, stained, whatever. Even second-
hand.”
She peered down at the paper. “What do you recommend, as a professional?
Which bargains are the most popular?”
“The first two ones, I think.” I was warming to my businesswoman role. “You
get to enjoy all the benefits, in the span of two to three weeks. Ruthless brilliance of
mind. Timeless beauty. Wonderful absence of feelings: you’ll never get to feel guilty or
jealous or melancholy again.”
A glint in her eyes. “Sounds like a dream.”
Neither Mum nor I were fond of this kind of thing, truth be told. More often than
not Mum didn’t even bother to ensure if the pact actually worked. Too much trouble,
she said, lazily, while I felt uneasy about the effects it brought on the human. In the long
term, it would ruin their life, and it was highly likely they’d ruin countless other lives
along the way. No, I wasn’t having it. Except for my first year at the Market, I’d never
made the pact come true. That meant I was swindling the customer, I suppose. Anyway,
I’d rather be a fraud than be responsible for having a psychopathic genius on the streets.
However, even if the pact didn’t fully work, the moment the person sold their
soul to us demons, they’d walk away a little less human, as something vital was ripped
out of them. A little meaner. Somewhat smarter.
“We have to keep the tradition going,” Dad would insist. “It’s a matter of
tradition, you people.”
48
 “And we guarantee the utmost discretion, of course,” I told the woman now.
“That’s a relief, dearie. I don’t want tongues wagging. I’ll have the second one,
then, please. Oh, and here’s Sheila; take care of her, will you? She’s rather a pet, after
all.”
“Of course. You needn’t worry, madam.”
Then the woman set her bag down on the counter of the stall and fished
something out. It changed colour when the sunlight hit it, as though it were underwater,
and it billowed out in the windless air. I inched forward a finger towards the soul.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. She bites,” the woman said, sweetly. “Well,
it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, miss Carrows.”
As she was turning to leave, I noticed something, with a start. The woman
seemed unperturbed by my staring.
“Oh yes,” she said, glancing down at herself. “I’m missing a hand, dear. Very
forgetful of me, I know. You get to my age, you’ll be just as forgetful, just you wait and
see. First lost my reading glasses. Then lost my house. And then lost my hand. Haven’t
got a clue where it could be.” She gave a shrug. “It could be worse, of course. My sister
lost her head last year. Doesn’t suit her, being headless. She looks a right sight.”
When she was gone, I got out my course books from my bag, glad I could now
study for a while. I had upcoming exams in two weeks and, swot as I’ve always been, I
meant to get top marks. I looked up sometimes to watch the sun loiter on the horizon,
the colour of lifeblood and rage.
It had been sunset forever, give or take a bit.
I was underlining the chapter on How to Proceed in Emergency Situations when
a nearby voice said: miss, would you be so kind as to tell me the time?
“Six o’clock,” I said, without looking up.
There was no need to check my watch – it was always six o’clock in the Market
at the edge of things.
just on time, then, the voice whispered.
I looked up, and froze. The creature standing in front of my stall flashed out a
monstrous smile. A casual glance at it might have led you to believe it was nothing more
than a horse. A black horse, so half-starved it was only a shadow away from being a
walking skeleton. Maybe you would have flinched with pity at the sight of it.
You would have been completely and utterly wrong.
how do you do, Rae Carrows, the Night Mare said, flickering its dark mane, and
its soundless voice sat in the back of my head like a migraine. I was looking for you.
I stood still. I said nothing at all.
come now, do not be scared, the thing said.
With a horrified sort of wonder, I stared at its rich black coat and at the vertebrae
poking out sharply from its neck. My eyes stung.
do not be scarred, Rae Carrows.
I found I couldn’t drag my gaze away from it. Then the Market swung and tilted,
and my vision blurred, and now I was staring at my worst nightmare in the face.
I gasped out, catching myself in the arms of the chair. There was a scream
burning in my throat, and it took all the willpower in the world to choke it back.
it happens to all of you, you know, the Mare said in conversational tones. some
even faint. so charming, really. what is your worst nightmare, then, Rae Carrows?
Jaw clenched, I brushed the tears away with the back of my hand.
“That’s personal. I’m not willing to share that.” I raised my head again, careful
not to look at the creature directly again. “What do you want from me? Do you want to
do business of some sort?”

49
 nothing of the like, it said. as a matter of fact, I have some valuable information
that might interest you.
“Yes?”
curious man at the blue stall by the poplars, do you not think? you may want to
keep a close watch on him, the Night Mare said in my head, and its hooves pounded on
the ground.
Then, in a rattle of old bones and blackness, it was gone.

***

“Listen to this one, miss,” the bald man at the blue stall said.
He fished something out from a box and popped it into his mouth. When he
spoke a moment later, his voice had turned into an uneducated grunt.
“Hey, I sound tough as old boots. Don’t you mess around with me.”
I smiled at him, stalling for time. I needed a little more time, just to make
certain. I had to make certain. I couldn’t afford to be rash and make a mistake again,
couldn’t, wouldn’t. But this time was different, wasn’t it? This time my suspicions were
growing … I stiffened and listened and heard the air crackle around us … I was sure …
so sure …
You were so smug and sure that time too, though, weren’t you? And look where it
got you.
I shoved the memory away, teeth gritted.
“Could I possibly try a voice on, sir? I haven’t made up my mind yet as to which
to buy. They’re all amazing,” I said.
“Sure,” the angel cooed. “Here, have this one. I think you’ll like it.”
I took the thing he’d left on the counter and swallowed it down.
“Could I have some water, please? Wash it down properly?” I stopped short. The
voice coming out of my mouth was a smooth, fruity drawl, and I let out a chuckle of
surprise. “This is so weird.”
The angel clapped his hands together in delight. “That one suits you, miss. Each
voice lasts for about five hours, by the way, then it wears off.” He handed me a glass of
water.
“Thanks,” I said, and deliberately brushed my fingers against his. I felt it then,
magnified by the contact of skin against skin: the hum in the wind, a deep thrumming in
my chest. My pulse had quickened.
This time I was sure. This time I’d make no mistakes.
The angel prattled on, and now I was almost shaking with loathing. I loathed the
monster that hid behind his bright smile and soft tones. He wasn’t fooling me; I
wouldn’t be taken in by his kind, not any longer.
I loathed the monster that they had turned me into.
“Somehow fits with your complexion, that voice. Fits with your hair. You’ve got
beautiful hair, miss.” The man looked at me. Something crossed his face. “Almost
devilishly so.”
“Exactly,” I said, touching the scar on my cheek like some people cross
themselves.
I whipped out Sebastian the dagger from the depths of my bag, and squinted out
at the scarlet sun that never set, there in the Market at the edges of things.
Then I added, very politely, in the same smooth fruity drawl the voice stall
owner had had the kindness to let me try on: “I’m afraid this might hurt, sir. So sorry to
inconvenience you.”

50
 ***

Afterwards, I cleaned up the mess carefully.

No one can accuse me of being a sloth.

51
 Chapter 10
Thief

Behind the counter of a prestigious jewellery shop on Bond Street, a woman was
apologising for something she had never done.
She had blonde highlights and a plastic name tag on her breast that read: Jessica.
“Yes, sir. Of course, we take responsibility for the mistake,” she said.
She felt her lips moving, but she didn’t really process the words that left her
mouth. She only knew that the young man standing in front of her had the brightest
smile she’d seen in her life. She blinked. She was feeling oddly light-headed.
“I don’t understand how this can have happened, sir,” she said. “Please feel free
to choose from any of these items, as compensation.”
“Excellent,” Kal, the angel, the singer, the kleptomaniac, said. “Thank you very
much.”
He swept off a couple of gleaming watches from the cabinets set against the
wall, hesitated for a moment, and pocketed a slim gold chain with a teardrop. Placidly,
the woman named Jessica watched him move about the shop.
“Is there anything more you’ll be wanting, sir?”
“No, that’ll be all. Well, you’ve been wonderfully understanding. Thank you
again for your trouble,” Kal said.
He winked at the uniformed security guard standing by the door. The man
touched his cap to him.
“Nice lad, that,” the guard said, when he’d walked out of the door. “Such good
manners.”

***

There was a child curled up in the doorway.

Kal spotted her the moment he walked around the corner of Euston Road and the
block of flats where Eden lived came into view. The child had straggling fair hair, so
pale it was almost white. She was hunched up on the floor, back to the door, knees
drawn up to her chest. She looked up at him.
“Mama? Where’s my mama?” the little girl in the dirty white nightdress
whispered. “I want my mama.”
Kal went down into a crouch.
“Hey,” he whispered back. “What’re you doing here? Are you okay?”
Maybe it was because the sight of her, blonde and lost, raked up painful
memories. Maybe it was because the morning task at the jewellery shop had left him
drained and bound to distraction. It always took its toll, stealing.
52
 Whatever it was, when Kal realised what was going on it was too late.

***

The lift was out of order, so Kal stomped up the three flights to Eden’s flat. He didn’t
mind, actually: it was a good way to vent. He kicked a cardboard pizza box out of his
way. He strode to Eden’s door, where a blue sign that proclaimed WELCOME-ISH,
DEPENDING ON WHO YOU ARE AND HOW LONG YOU STAY FOR hung.
Despite his anger, he couldn’t stifle a smile. That was just so typical of Eden.
Kal rang the bell, again and again. Then, the click of a bolt unlatching.
“I wonder if you’ve ever heard,” Eden greeted from the threshold, “that patience
is a virtue, Kal.”
He pushed past her and into the neat hall of her flat. It smelled of citric air
freshener.
“Not really. Can’t have been listening.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Eden. With a raised eyebrow, she watched him hang
his coat on the rack on the wall. “Are you going to tell me what’s the matter with you?”
“There was a demon downstairs,” Kal said, in a strained voice.
Eden’s eyebrows rose higher into her forehead. “Sorry?”
Her polka-dotted dressing gown rustled while she strolled into the living room, a
minimalistic, sterile-looking affair. That was Eden all over again; wherever she went, a
strict order followed. Even the plants on either side of the sofa were too terrified to shed
leaves on the carpet.
“You heard me,” said Kal, following her. “Isn’t Lottie around?”
Eden had been living with her sister Charlotte for the four years since she’d
started med school. She would have wanted to live in halls to have a full university
experience, but she couldn’t afford it. Money had always been tight in her family as far
as she could remember.
“Lottie’s gone out,” Eden said. “Now suppose you elaborate about the demon.”
“The flea was down by the doorway, and caught me by surprise. She reminded
me of. God. I’m so bloody stupid,” Kal said, and flung himself down on the white sofa
with a frustrated sigh, as at ease in the house as though it were his own.
Eden looked incredulous. “She reminded you of God? Take your shoes off,
matey. I don’t want scuff marks on the sofa.”
“What? Of course not. You know I don’t – She reminded me of Nate, when he
was a kid,” Kal sighed. “She reminded me of – myself.”
Eden was silent for a moment, perched on a chair opposite him.
“I see,” then she said, and Kal knew that she did. “Did you make her
Forgotten?”
“Yeah, but she managed to attack me before. I’m such an idiot.”
Eden stiffened. “She attacked you? Are you hurt?”
“Eds, it’s okay. Only a scratch or two.”
“I don’t give a damn,” Eden snapped. “Let me take a look.”
“Eden, no,” Kal said, and he was frowning now. He pushed himself into a sitting
position. “Honestly. Don’t –”
Hands on hips, Eden glared at him. “Shut the fuck up, Kal. Do I need to remind
you who’s the doctor here?”
“Fine,” Kal said, with a scowl. “Fine.” He unbuttoned his navy blue shirt and
ripped it off in one fluid, irritated motion. “There’s one or two on my back, I think.
Another on my forearm.”

53
 “Right,” Eden said, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. She turned to him so they
were facing each other. “Show me your arm first.”
He noticed a scientific earnestness take over her face as she peered down at the
wound on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t deep, but it was red and angry.
“She bit you, didn’t she?” she asked. “I’m going to fetch some stuff, stay put.”
She returned a few minutes later, carrying a slim bag, a dripping cloth in the
other hand. She shook off the contents onto the sofa, between their crossed legs.
“First of all, rinse the wound with good old water and soap. Let’s hope it’s not
infected.”
“Am I going to get blood poisoning? Shit, I am, aren’t I?”
“Not,” Eden said, grimly, placing the cloth on his arm, “if I can help it.”
Drip. Drip. The water trickled down the length of his forearm. Eden’s hands
were gentle as she moved the cloth over the wound, and Kal’s skin was cold and smooth
to the touch. He let out a groan of pain.
“Sissy,” she said, but her voice was tender, uncharacteristically so. In the
twilight, and in the half-silence, she said: “You know, Kal. It’s okay to be vulnerable
sometimes. To let go. To let people see you when you’re down, or hurt. And it’s me,
Kal. Me. I’m not going to think any less of you just because of it.”
He nodded, eyes down. “I know. I know, Eds. I just get mad sometimes. It’s like
I’m letting them down. My parents. My brother. Myself. I don’t know.”
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Eden said. She pressed a swab with disinfectant
on the wound next. “That’s what I think. Right. Now turn around. Let’s see the one on
the back.”
Kal shifted around, meek now. In silence, Eden repeated the process on the
wound on his ribs, a larger one this time. Eden was glad his back was turned on her.
That meant he couldn’t see the look on her face.
The softness in it. And the aching.
She looked at the broad slopes of his shoulders, the taut, lean muscles of his
back. Under her hands, she felt them swelling with his every breath, and loosening
when he exhaled. A tingle of warmth somewhere within herself. There was an odd
intimacy about this, she reflected. About healing.
But maybe that was just something to do with her.
Maybe that was just because of him.
Eden cleared her throat. “There. Done. I think you might even survive the
night.”
Kal stood and grabbed his shirt back. “Bitch. Not funny.” Then he pulled her
suddenly to him, and whispered into her hair: “Thanks, Eds. You take such good care of
me, always have. You’re my best girl, d’you know that?”
She broke free from his hug, before some disaster took place.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I have a little something for you, by the way,” Kal said.
“For me? Why?”
He walked to the hall and returned with a small ornate box and a bag. He passed
the box to Eden and shrugged.
“Just because.”
Eden opened it. A slim gold chain shone up at her.
“It’s beautiful. Did you –”
A pause. Kal knew, then, that she knew. He didn’t mind. She’d always known
him whole, not just the glitter of his smiles and the leather, but the interplay of light and
shade in him.

54
 Eden’s hand closed around the cold necklace. “Where did you …”
“Bond Street. I got something for my brother too,” Kal said, and rummaged in
his pocket. He fished out the two watches that sat in his other pocket. “One for Nate.
Another for Luca, my flatmate. You know him.”
“Yes,” she said. “You took nothing for yourself?”
He shrugged. “No. I don’t need anything.”
Eden was watching him. “Kal, why do you do this?” Her voice was soft.
His held a defiant edge to it. “Do what?”
Eden hesitated. “You know. Take stuff. Steal for others.” She looked across at
Kal. He wasn’t looking back at her. “Kal, it’s – it’s lovely, but. But I don’t need it either.
You know I don’t.”
“I know you don’t,” said Kal. There was an acid twist to his lips. “I guess I can’t
help it. I get this urge sometimes, and it’s so damned overwhelming, Eden. I can’t think
straight. And afterwards – this is going to sound weird, but afterwards I’m at peace
with myself. With my friends. And with my family, for putting up with me all these
years, even if I’m nothing like them.” He looked at her, a tinge of challenge on his face
once again. “I know, I’m a freak. Go on, laugh.”
How could she laugh, when he broke her heart, when he broke his own?
There was a small silence. Eden fidgeted, racking her brain for something to say
that would make the sagging look on Kal’s face disappear. She couldn’t bear it. His pain
was her own.
“It’s sweet of you, anyway,” Eden said. “Oh my god, Kal Mellketh being
actually sweet. Wonders will never cease.”
It worked: Kal grinned.
“Keep your voice down, will you? I’ve got a reputation to keep, Hawthorne,” he
said, waggling a finger at her.
Then, without warning, Kal scooped Eden up in his arms, as if she weighed no
more than a child. He started to whirl her around and around. He put on a high-pitched
girlie voice, mimicking her: “Omigod, Kal being sweet?”
She punched at his shoulder in mock horror, her hair whipping around them in a
golden arch.
“Put me down, arsehole. Put me down!”
“Omigod, who would’ve possibly thought? I know, girl,” Kal shrilled, prancing
around the living room. “He’s bad news.”
Eden flung her head backwards, and laughed, high and bright, like birdsong.
Shrieking delightedly, she clung to him, all thick hair and strong arms and sky in his
eyes. He was so handsome to her then that her bones ached.
She buried her face in his neck, and breathed in his warm, musky scent, and she
loved him. She loved him, long, hard, and true. She loved him, even if he didn’t love
her back. Not the way she did. Not the way she wanted.
It was her blessing, and her curse.

***
A couple of hours later, in the dark:
“You want another last slice? It’s so good, Eden.”
“Jesus. Are you still eating? You’ll spray crumbs all over the sheets, you pig.”
“I’m telling you, this is so good. Hawaiian pizza rocks.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“Eden. The door’s right there, in case you hadn’t noticed before.”
“I feel the need to remind you that this is my home, Kal, remember?”

55
 “Quite beside the point. Ooh, there’s another slice left of the steakhouse one too.
All juicy and bloody. Love it.”
“Ugh. I can’t stand blood. Gives me the creeps.”
“Dude, Eden, that literally makes no sense. You’re a doctor. You can’t be
squeamish.”
“And? I just want to help people, Kal, even if it means confronting things I
dislike.”
“Whatever, nutjob. Hey. Do you know what this reminds me of?”
“Mm?”
“Remember when we were kids, the night before the school Christmas play?
How I always stayed over at yours? Otherwise I got so het up at home I became an
awful nuisance. Oh, and remember that play when you played the Virgin Mary?”
“Huh. Yeah. I wanted to be Gabriel. That cow Olivia Williams was chosen
instead.”
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks. You were the star of the show,
wasn’t that enough? I remind you that some people played a tree. A bloody tree, Eden. I
don’t think there even were trees at Belen. Stop laughing.”
“Well, you weren’t really cut out to be an actor, Kal. Hey, be right back, I’m
going to text my friends we’re postponing our drinks for tomorrow, you being a pain in
the arse and all.”
“Aren’t they going to be pissed off?”
“Sod them. You’re hurt. I’m not going to leave you here.”
“Well, well, look who’s being all nice and sweet now, eh?”
“Shut up.”
“I was thinking, Eds. You sure you don’t mind me sleeping here with you? I can
crash on the sofa, no worries.”
“I told you. It’s fine.”
“Mm. I just wanted to warn you, that’s all. Think you’ll be able to resist a
temptation such as myself all night long? Ow. Stop it, woman. Stop it, that hurts.”
“I’m glad. Now put a fucking sock in it and let me sleep. You better not snore.”
“Goodnight to you too, Eds.”

56
Eden’s ten very sensible reasons why fancying Kal is A Bad
Idea

1. Yes, he snores as if he were the bloody Minotaur.

2. He always checks out his arse in the mirror before going out.
3. He’s so lazy that sometimes he’d rather go an entire meal without water than actually
get up and refill the jug.
4. I’ve caught him a couple of times clipping his revolting toenails with my surgical
scissors.
5. He’s the most hypochondriac person I’ve ever met ⎯ he gets so much as a fever and
he’ll start fretting whether it’s terminal pneumonia or syphilis.
6. He used to chew his own earwax as a kid.
7. He never likes to plan or book anything in advance and goes all, Eden, bro, don’t
fuss, of course there’ll be a table left. No prizes for guessing who’s right most times.
8. The way he says: “Dahling, I’m so sorry,” right after a quarrel so you can’t even
enjoy staying mad at him for a while.
9. In the days leading up to a show he gets unbearable, yelling the same songs over and
over again and larking about. And if you tell him to lay off he’ll just pester you even
more.
10. That infuriating swagger-and-smirk thingy he does to pull girls. And the fact that it
works.

Look, this is totally useless, I know Kal’s the most annoying guy on earth but I
still fancy him like crazy, okay?

57
 Chapter 11
You

“Er, hi,” I said to the guy behind the door. He was wearing a hoodie, on which was
printed, for some obscure reason: Crocodiles forever. “Is Kal in?”
He frowned at me. For one horrible moment I wondered if Kal had been pulling
my leg when he’d asked me over for lunch at his, and given me some random address.
Again I checked the message he’d sent me the night before, anxiously. Number 10
White Lion Street, Islington. Maybe he had been laughing at me behind my back the
whole time and –
“Yeah,” the guy said, in lightly accented English, and yelled over his shoulder:
“Kal! Your girlfriend’s here, man.”
I cringed. “I’m not his girlfriend,” I said. “We’re just, um, friends.”
And even that was stretching the truth a little. We hardly knew each other, after
all. We were – what was the term? Friendly acquaintances? We’d kept a lively banter
over text for the last couple of weeks, but I wasn’t sure what was the deal with us. What
his deal was, or what he really wanted from me.
The guy scratched his beard. “Lovely. Whatever. Get inside, get inside.”
I followed him into a poorly lit hallway and into a spacious living room. The guy
with the crocodile hoodie hopped down on a chair and whipped out his phone,
forgetting all about me. My heart was hammering with nerves. Then a door to my right
opened, spilling out a pungent scent of spices and a flood of light.
“Thought that might be you, Rae,” Kal said, and grinned.
At the sight of him, my stomach lurched with an absurd mingle of joy and terror.
I straightened my denim skirt and swished my long red plait behind a shoulder. I’d spent
the best part of the morning prettying myself up, and hoped I’d managed the ‘cute but
casual’ look. I definitely didn’t want to look as though I was trying too hard.
“Welcome to our humble abode. Are you hungry?” Kal asked.
“Starving,” I said, and followed him into the kitchen.
A riot of smell and noise engulfed me. It was cramped and chaotic: jars were
scattered all over the island, pans and pots sizzled, and loud music blared out from the
radio on the windowsill.
“Have you been cooking?” I asked, surprised.
I didn’t have him pegged down as the cooking type. I’d imagined him to be the
typical lazy bloke who lived on microwaved lasagne from the supermarket.
Kal wiped his hands on his Donald Duck apron. It looked comically incongruous
over his smart black shirt.

58
 “’Course. I’m quite the chef,” he said. “I do a mean curry, actually. Do you like
curry?”
“Loads,” I said. On birthdays, my parents and I were in the habit of eating out at
an Indian restaurant near my flat, where we’d stuff our faces.
“Thank god. Otherwise you’d have gone home hungry, Rae. Just kidding. I had
everything under control; plan B mapped out, C, D, all of them,” said Kal, bent over an
onion. The knife in his hands gleamed. “I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for ten minutes or
so before it’s ready, though. Want anything to drink meanwhile? Coffee, beer? Juice?”
“Juice sounds great, thanks,” I said. “I’m a healthy gal. Well. Sort of. Hey, love
the apron, by the way.”
Kal clutched at the rim that fell to his thighs and did a silly little twirl, sending
himself up.
“I know, right? Donald Duck’s just the greatest. I even have a soft toy of him.”
I burst out laughing. Who would’ve thought that this guy would be so quirky?
“You’re serious?”
He grinned back at me. “Never been more serious. He was a present from my
aunt for my seventh birthday, and I treasure him still. I keep him at the foot of my bed.”
His manner was so disarming that it was impossible not to tease him: “Do you
cuddle him when you’re scared?”
Kal’s grin widened. “Duh. Who do you take me for? Of course I do.”
He handed me a glass of fresh orange juice from the fridge, and afterwards
poured a waterfall of coffee into a huge cup, from which he drained half in a single
gulp.
“Someone’s thirsty,” I said, chuckling.
He held the kitchen door open for me, and sauntered out into the living room
behind me.
“Not thirsty,” Kal said, voice muffled by the cup. “Just extremely unhealthily
addicted to coffee.”
At the sound of our voices, Crocodile Hoodie looked up from his phone. He was
sprawled on the sofa, feet propped up on a low coffee table that bore marks of mug
rings and cigarette burns.
He looked at Kal over his shoulder with a smirk. “Yeah, you better keep an eye
on him, Rae – it’s Rae, isn’t it? Dude lives on coffee and curry and wome –”
Kal cut him off, rolling his eyes. “Okay, thank you, Luca. We get the picture.”
I hovered awkwardly between the two guys, sipping at my juice for lack of
anything better to do. I wondered if the Crocodile Hoodie was joining us for lunch – the
thought triggered both an odd sort of relief and a deep disappointment.
Come on, Rae, say something, dumb-arse. I mustered social energy and cleared
my throat.
“So,” I said, intent on causing a good impression on them both. “You two share
this flat together?”
“Yeah, with another couple of guys,” Kal said, “who thankfully aren’t going to
be around for the whole afternoon either, eh, Luca?”
“Point taken,” the flatmate said, laughing, and his teeth looked almost
fluorescent in the mid of his bushy dark beard. “Kal here, Rae, is an ungrateful jerk. I
teach him my risotto ai funghi recipe and d’you think he invites me over to lunch when
a pretty girl turns up on our doorstep? Not he.”
Kal whacked him with the empty mug of coffee.
“Yeah, yeah. Now clear off before you scare Rae away.”
“Too late for that,” I said, and he laughed.

59
 “Cheers,” the flatmate said, and slammed the front door closed behind him.
I sat down with a flop on the sofa. Kal followed suit, stretching all the way out,
shoulders back. He was so close to me I could feel the outline of his arms grazing me
and the warmth of his body. It made my skin tingle. There was something of the
carnivore in his movements.
Something dangerous.
I was suddenly very conscious that we were very alone in the flat. Were we
going oh my sweet Hell to – to sleep together? Did I even want to? I did, of course I did.
But I didn’t want him to forget all about me the following morning either. I didn’t want
to be seen as an easy catch, particularly not to him, of all people. I wanted our
relationship – whatever it was, whatever it would blossom into – to be fuller than that.
Longer, more meaningful. I wanted to get to know Kal, all the layers and doors of him.
“So,” Kal said. “What have you been up to? Tell me about that firefighter course
of yours.”
“There’s not really much to tell,” I said, feeling suddenly shy. “I got it into my
head that I wanted to work as a firefighter a couple of years ago, even if my parents are
being a bit of a bother and don’t approve. But I’m loving it, the whole training process
and everything.”
“Why didn’t they want you to be a firefighter, then? Your parents?”
I fidgeted. What could I tell him?
“They’re sort of. Prejudiced? It’s complicated. It’s a family thing, you see,” I
said. “My mum is a lawyer and my dad is a parking officer. They don’t quite get me.
I’m the odd one out.”
Both of them were nothing short of devoted to their jobs. My father absolutely
loved fining people, even when he was in the wrong and their cars were properly parked
and no infraction had been broken – especially then – and my mother was notorious for
being an excellent, if merciless, lawyer.
Something flickered in Kal’s blue eyes.
“I know the feeling. I know it too well. My parents ran this huge charity and
would’ve wanted me, I’m sure, to follow in their footsteps,” he said. “But I never did.
I’m an engineer. And a musician. I knew it wasn’t my sort of thing, running a charity. I
would’ve never been happy. So yeah. I get you. I get the feeling of not fitting in.”
I digested this, more taken aback than I was letting on, and asked: “And your
parents? They’re okay with your choices now?”
I saw the walls of his face come up as readily as they’d slipped down a moment
before.
“They’re dead,” Kal said, flatly.
I felt my jaw slacken in shock. I mentally kicked myself for asking. “Shit. I’m
sorry. I …”
I trailed off, unsure if to ask further or not. Then I sneaked a look at his face and
decided not to.
“So,” I said, in airy tones that didn’t fool anyone. “You said you were an
engineer, just now?”
He turned to face me again with an edge of a smile, and I was relieved that the
awkwardness had dispersed.
“Yep. Just graduated last summer. Studied at Bristol, now working at an
electrical company, which bores my arse off. Why do you sound so surprised, Rae?”
I giggled. “Are you kidding me? You’re the least engineer-y person I know.
Like, I wouldn’t have imagined it in a million years.”

60
 “Oi,” he said, jabbing at me with an elbow. “Why does that somehow feel like
an insult?”
I laughed harder, almost upsetting my glass of juice. I leaned over and set it
down on the coffee table.
“It’s not! I swear it’s not. It’s just plain fact.”
“And that’s plain insolence, my girl,” Kal retorted.
He whipped out a hand and tickled me over my ribs. I let out a piercing squeal
and flailed out at him with my hands. Kal’s grin widened. I felt his fingers running over
the sides of my stomach, scrambling up my neck, down my arms, and somehow,
beneath the terrible itchiness, the feel of his touch sent a spike of pleasure through me.
I knew, then, smiling inwardly, what was going to happen next.
Sometimes there’s no turning back.
“Stop it,” I shrieked, squirming. “Stop it, you bastard.”
“Sorry, Rae, I’m having too much fun to take pity on you right now.”
He grabbed hold of my wrist, while I kicked out at him, giggling. I lost my
balance then, and toppled over the side of the sofa, onto the carpeted floor.
“Shit,” I moaned, rubbing my arm. My skirt was riding up my thigh. Hastily, I
rearranged it into a more modest position.
A second later Kal rolled himself down onto the carpet too. He landed on top of
me, catching his body weight with his hands. I went very still. His face was directly
above mine; I could see every mark on his features. I could have counted the number of
lashes surrounding his eyes. My heart was banging hard.
“You see,” Kal said in a whisper. “That’s what happens when you insult me.”
I stared up at him. “Well, serves you right,” I teased back, breathless. His whole
body was pinning me down. “So big-headed it’s a wonder you can walk through the
door.”
He dipped his head forward so that his hair was brushing my forehead. His
cheek skimmed mine. I felt the vibration of his voice next to me, and a strong wave of
heat rose inside me.
“Apologise,” he said.
I wiggled underneath him. It felt so delicious, this moment.
“No.”
A low rumble next to my cheek. “What did you say?” he whispered.
“I said no,” I said, emboldened. “I won’t.”
Kal readjusted his weight and raised his head. “Do you know,” he murmured,
“what I do to insolent girls who won’t apologise?”
I looked up at him, in the thrumming silence. My chest was heaving. I saw his
eyes flicker to my mouth, down to my neck. He was close – so close to me – was he
going to – when was he going to – I couldn’t wait much longer – I was going to explode
if he didn’t kiss me –
And then, just as he was lowering his face so that it was inches apart from mine
and our noses brushed –
Just then –
Kal recoiled back from me with a hissed curse. He stared at me, wild-eyed.
Trembling.
“Demon,” he rasped out.
It was at that moment, air crackling, shadows twitching around us, that the word
that had been sitting at the back of my mind all along broke with a shudder through my
consciousness.

61
 He was an angel, for the loveless love of Hell. An angel. How could I have been
so blind?
Angel angel angel angel.
I knew, then, what was going to happen next. Sometimes there’s no turning
back.
Kal Mellketh, singer, stranger, angel, and I weren’t friends, nor lovers. We
weren’t even acquaintances.
We were enemies.

Then Kal lunged forward again and closed his hands around my neck.

62
 Chapter 12
Weirdos

Kal’s muse was called Betty. She had a drinking problem, an ex-husband in advertising,
and a cramped flat in South Bank. Also, she wouldn’t see forty again.
In the garden shed, Kal slouched on a chair, scribbling on a notebook. It was
here that he wrote songs, here that his brother Nate brought chunks of machinery and
breathed life into them. So it was only natural for his muse to walk into the shed. She
could smell the creation of things, just like a shark is baited by blood.
“There you are,” Kal said, looking up. “I’ve been praying and praying for
weeks, and you turn up now? Fat lot of use you are.”
Betty, in her flared jeans and peroxided hair, made herself comfortable on an old
rocking chair in a corner of the shed. She fished out a rusty lighter from her pockets.
“Kal Mellketh praying,” she said. “Now wouldn’t I like to see that. You mind if
I smoke?”
He waved a hand. “Go ahead. Anything to get your inspiration going.”
A spurt and a flame, and the muse leaned back, luxuriously.
“Anything, eh? You stuck or what? Want me to spoon-feed you again?” She
scratched her black roots. “Artists in distress, you’re all cut out from the same cloth.
Dickens, Bach, Picasso, you think you rule the world, but you’re helpless as a babe
without us.”
“Maybe,” said Kal. “I don’t know what to write the next song about. If there’s
even a song.”
She sighed. The chair rocked, back and forth.
“Sure you know what to write. And of course there’s a song. There are always
songs around us, you just have to listen.”
Kal snapped the notebook shut.
“She’s – she’s a demon, Betty. I found out only two days ago. A demon. I did
have an odd feeling about her … but I shoved it down, idiot that I am. Didn’t want to
be” – he made quoting marks with his fingers – “‘reckless’, like Eden said I was.” – a
bitter shake of the head – “Some hunter that I am.”
“Uh-huh,” the muse said. She flung back her head, and blew blue cobwebs of
smoke into the air. “And how does that make you feel?”
Kal scowled at her. “Now you sound like a shrink or something.” He paused. “It
makes me feel … angry.”
“Angry? Merely angry?”
“Yes.”
63
 She laughed, a tinkle of bells in the distance.
“Lies, boy. I can smell the lies on you. I’ll tell you how you feel.”
And she leaned forward, in the rocking chair, the muse with the cheaply dyed
hair, and looked straight at Kal, and said: “It makes you feel livid, not just angry. You
blame her kind, you blame her, really, deep down, for the grief and the ordeal you went
through as a child. Another part of you thrills. Thirsts for murder. For revenge, and the
blood in your marrow sings. And yet another part of you feels betrayed.”
“Betrayed? Don’t be stupid.”
“Yes, betrayed. You thought Rae Carrows understood. You were beginning to
feel close to her. You were beginning to think you’d found someone in whom you’d
seen an echo of yourself.”
Silence in the shed.
“I wanted her,” Kal whispered. “But I also wanted – a friend.”
Betty rose to her feet. She walked over to him and grazed his cheek with a
finger. He stiffened at the touch.
“You’re so lonely, aren’t you, angel?” she said. “You were an odd, lonely boy,
now you’re an odd, lonely man. Always different from the rest.”
Kal nodded. “It’s exhausting, being a misfit.”
“That’s why you do all those things, don’t you?” said the muse. “That’s why you
steal and you smile like you don’t have a care in the world and you wake up to nameless
women in the morning. To keep the loneliness from biting you. But is it worth it –
afterwards?”
Kal looked at her. Hollowed out, that’s how he felt after. Plastic. Made of so
many bones.
“I get this marvellous sense of peace when I steal something, you know, Betty,”
said Kal. “Like things fall into place. There’s nothing better than seeing the look on
people’s faces when I get them something I know they’ll like. The way they look at it.
The way they look at me. As though I – oh, I can’t describe it.”
“I can,” said the muse. “You just want to be loved, don’t you?”
Another curl of silence tumbled on top of the first one, and this new silence was
deeper, and darker, and dead.
“I’ll kill her, you know,” Kal said, when the silence flickered out. “Rae Carrows.
I’ll make her pay. I won’t let myself forget, or her.”
Betty took another drag of the cigarette. “I doubt it, boy. No offence, but I doubt
it.”
Kal shook his head. His jaw was set. “Wanna bet?”
“Sure,” Betty said. “I love my little bets.”
“Right. If I win – if I kill her – you’ll come whenever I summon you. You’ll be
my slave.”
Betty smiled with nicotine-tinged teeth. “You would keep me in a cage, angel?”
“Maybe,” Kal said. “I’d feed you well. Anything that keeps my songs rolling in.
I’m such a lousy engineer, Betty. I don’t belong in the office, or in the lab. With those
electrical circuits, those machines. It makes me miserable.”
“I know,” she said. “You belong here, creating things. You belong on the stage,
with the trouble in your voice and the sun in your eyes.”
“What happens if I lose? If I don’t kill her?”
She stopped and turned to face him. She said, urgently: “You forgive.”
“What? Who?”
“You forgive Rae Carrows, for representing everything you loathe, everything
you fear. You forgive yourself. And you let go.”

64
 He was smiling now, a sour edge of a smile. “You’re delusional.”
Betty dropped the stub of her cigarette to the ground, then ground it out with the
heel of her cowboy boot.
“Is that all the thanks I get for my work?”
Outside, a flute blared out, obnoxiously. Kal and Betty winced at the sound.
“Ever thought of paying Cassandra a visit? She could do with your help,” Kal
said.
“Nah,” the muse said. “She’s a lost cause.”
Kal smiled. “Isn’t she? And thank you, Betty. You’re right. There was a song
inside me, all the while.”
“Of course there was.” Then Betty stooped, and planted a light kiss on Kal’s
forehead, as a mother would. “Now take care of yourself, Kal Mellketh. Don’t get too
lost. And open the door; Cassandra is coming, and she wants your help.”
She waved yellowed fingers at him, and was gone.
A screech of old wood. Cassandra flounced into the shed, peering around
suspiciously.
“Were you talking to yourself?”
“Not today,” Kal said, stretching to his feet. “Just talking to my muse. She’s a
little shy, so she’s already left. No, not shy. Uncivilised.”
He could feel Betty giving him the finger, somewhere. He grinned.
Cassandra cast a wary look at her cousin, unsure if he was making fun of her or
not.
“You’re so weird, Kal.”
“Thank you.”
She flopped down on the floor and burst out: “Anyway, listen. I’ve got the
musical show at school in a week and I got assigned the bloody flute and I just can’t hit
a single bloody note! You’ve got to do something!”
“Language, Cass,” he teased.
She ignored him. “An unmusical angel! I’ll be a laughingstock. I’ll – I’ll bring
disgrace to the family. Ugh. But I don’t want to learn your sort of music. Mum and Dad
say it’s not appropriate.”
Kal sighed. He knew his family had never approved of his music. It was too raw,
too wild. When they listened to him, they could see through the cracks in him, and then
they could no longer pretend that he was one of them. They’d have liked him to write
and sing neat, simple songs. Songs that didn’t leave a burning behind the eyes. Songs
that didn’t rise in the blood and crest over like an orgasm. Safe songs.
But he wasn’t safe.
He was trouble.
“Cass, you can make up your own mind. You’re not a kid anymore.”
Cassandra gave a prim little shake of the head.
“It’s not suitable. I don’t want to do anything I shouldn’t,” she intoned. Kal
wanted to shake her. “But you’ve got to help me anyway. Don’t you dare rub it into my
face: that you’re good not only at music but at dancing and cooking that weird stuff. It’s
bad enough, when people are skilled at something.” She glared at him. “But seems to
me, being skilled at more than one thing, well, that’s just plain rude. Seems to me.”
Before Kal could answer, the door swung open again, and in scurried Nate
Mellketh. His features bore a definite resemblance to his brother’s, but while Kal was
all loud edges and dark velvet, Nate carried with him a silence of sorts, soft, blond,
discreet.

65
 “Kal,” Nate said. There was an indescribable something in his tone that made
the other two stare at him. Shaking, he leaned against the wall. “I was – some people –"
In two strides, Kal was by his side, hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right? Has
something happened to you? Are you hurt?”
“Look at you,” Cassandra said. “Clucking over like a mother hen.”
Nate let out a long breath and looked down at his scruffy trainers. “I – I t-think I
was being followed. In Camden.”
“By whom?” Kal asked. There was an edge to his voice. “Who was following
you?”
“I – I don’t know. Two men. I don’t know who they were. And yes, I’m all
right.”
“But were they demons? Or humans?”
“Um. I don’t – know,” said Nate.
A touch of exasperation on Kal’s face now.
“How can you not know, Nate, for goodness’ sake?” he said, and his brother
hunched further into himself, further caved into the wall.
Cassandra flashed him a warning glance. Kal sighed, and ran a hand through his
hair, cooling his temper down. After all, he reminded himself, he couldn’t very well
talk.
“Nate,” Kal said, softly, and the boy looked up. “I just worry about you, that’s
all. You should let me train you, or come along with me to hunt sometime.”
“I don’t like,” Nate confessed to his trainers, “hunting. It makes me – sick. It …
I don’t like it.”
“Very well,” Kal said. “I’ll keep you safe then. You see anything strange, you
feel uncomfortable, you call me. I’ll keep them nice and quiet, whoever’s bothering
you. I swear.”
He took his brother’s hand, and squeezed, tight, until it hurt. Nate could feel
Kal’s delicate silver ring digging into his skin. Their mother’s ring.
“I swear, Nate.”
Nate squeezed back, then let go, fidgeting at his brother’s strange intensity. He
said nothing. Next to him, Cassandra’s features contracted into a look that was part
veiled admiration, part sententious disgust.
“You’d hurt anyone who’d bother him?” she asked Kal. “Even humans?”
“I would, yes,” said Kal. He didn’t even have to think about it. “Even humans.”
Cassandra’s voice dropped a notch, and a horrified fascination tricked into her
tone.
“And have you? You know – ever hurt a human before?”
The two children stared at him, faces frozen, and Kal surveyed them.
“Of course not,” he said.
It was really rather simple, lying ⎯ as long as you did it enough.

66
What Kal says about being Different

Hey, you. Yes, I’m talking to you. I know what it’s like, always being the odd one out.
Been there, done that. I know what it’s like, feeling like you’re condemned to a life
where you won’t ever fit anywhere. Like you’re swimming against this powerful
current, and you’re straining and struggling and kicking back. But it’s so much stronger
than you, so much more vicious, and your bones start to burn.
It hurts, sometimes. Of course it hurts. It hurts so badly, not to be understood, or
to be mocked for having different ambitions. Or for fighting for what matters to you. Or
for being downright original.
Listen to me. Fuck them. I mean it. Fuck those who sneer at you and that
sceptical look in their eye and their cowardice. Because, yes, in case you were
wondering, it takes freaking guts to be different from the rest, actually. And people are
so damned spineless.
But you know what? You’re not. You’re one of a kind. You’re the distinct,
plucky one in a herd of timidly bleating sheep. So, yes, whoever you are. You heard me.
Keep fighting for yourself, and for what you believe in, no matter if others ridicule it.
Do the things you love, no matter what others say. Equally important, don’t do the
things you never wanted to do in the first place. Be true to yourself, always.
Okay, enough with the lecturing.

Kal’s list of maddening things people say (because you’re not

like them)

1. Oh, you write songs? Right. What, you sometimes write poetry too? Dude, isn’t that
kind of, er, gay?
2. Dearest, would you mind not playing that music in front of Cassandra and your
brother? I – I don’t think it’s such a good influence on them. I don’t, well, want them
having any strange ideas, you know?
3. Hey, you want some? Sure you don’t? Man, it’s only weed. Don’t be so wet. Live a
little, for god’s sake.
4. Kal, why don’t you wear a crew cut like everyone else?
5. Are you seriously reading again? You’re such a nerd. Don’t you, like, get bored? I
don’t think I’ve ever finished a book in my life.

(It’s terrifying, really, to think of the number of pea-brained people there are crawling
about.)

67
What Rae says about bullying

Oh my sweet Hell, bullying. Particularly terrifying, bullying at high school, when

you’re nothing but this vulnerable mess of a teenager. I don’t even know where to start.
Let me tell you just one thing. If you’re different, be it for one reason or another,
your odds of being bullied multiply. Anything can be used as an excuse. Maybe you’re a
foreigner that’s just arrived in town and you’re struggling with the language. Your
classmates snigger when you answer questions in class, mimicking your accent. Or
maybe you’ve always been kind of chubby. It was never a big deal, but suddenly your
friends are squeezing into crop tops and piercing their belly buttons and looking at you
with mingled pity and revulsion. They start calling you fat. Porky. Whale. Maybe you’re
just smart, but now people groan when you come out top of the class. They ask if
you’ve got a life outside school. If you’ve got no friends, or what?
Here's the thing. Perhaps you don’t. People shun those who aren’t like them.
Nine times out of ten, there’s nobody brave enough to not give a crap about what the
rest of the group thinks and to actually remain by your side. You’re alone in your pain.
It eats you inside out. You feel so ashamed of yourself, for being the weirdo they all
claim you are. You hide in the library at lunchtime with a sandwich, not daring to make
an appearance in the cafeteria. Because you know what they’ll call you, and what you’ll
see in their eyes.
That’s the common factor in all experiences of bullying, I think.
You’re always so bloody scared.
For some reason, the fact that you’re different infuriates the hell out of people. I
swear it does. You see them pause and frown at you, their brains going tick tick tick.
They can’t stand it. They resent it, and sometimes they envy it, and because people are
so twisted, they turn cruel. They make a game out of your suffering. They laugh through
the day, and you bet it doesn’t keep them up at night.
You wonder if you’ll make it out alive. You wonder if there’s something wrong
with you. There must be something wrong with you, you reason; otherwise people
would leave you alone, wouldn’t they? You wonder when this will end, this ache inside
you, this feeling of being inferior, all the time.
Trust me. It does end. You’ve got to hold on, okay? You’ve got to be brave,
braver than they’ll ever be. You’ll learn from this. You’ll learn how to stand up for
yourself. You’ll learn that some things aren’t okay, even if everyone ignores it, or makes
a joke out of it. You’ll grow resilient. You’ll learn which is the kind of person you never,
ever want to be.
Speak up about what’s happening to you. Hold on. Be strong. Be brave. You’re
almost there.

68
Rae’s list of maddening things people say (because you’re not
like them)

1. Did you finish that project we had to do on time? God, you did. That’s such a loser
thing to do, isn’t it?
2. Girl, you’re not wearing that to the party, are you?
3. You dropped out of uni? Oh my god, for real? Don’t you feel like you’re, you know,
at a disadvantage compared to everyone else?
4. Guys, listen to this, listen! Rae here likes bird-watching. Isn’t it hilarious? Bird-
watching. Yeah, I know. I mean, it’s totally the sort of thing someone in their seventies
would have as a hobby, isn’t it?
5. What, you have no Instagram? Not even Twitter or Snapchat or I dunno. No? You’re
kidding, right?

69
 Chapter 13
Practice

I was trapped inside a toilet cubicle, and honestly, I wanted to die. I slid back the bolt
and pulled at the handle. It didn’t budge. Feeling a wave of fear, I shook it again.
Nothing.
I stood there, sweating under my thick, neon-bright firefighter uniform, while
the sounds of the Park Royal Station cafeteria outside rang in my ears. The toilet cubicle
was tiny, which did nothing to alleviate the panic. It’d been a long time since I’d felt
claustrophobic, but I could feel it returning now with a vengeance. I’d visited a
psychologist for almost two years to get it under control. It hadn’t completely worked,
though.
I was trapped trapped trapped trapped.
“Help!” I shouted, pounding on the door. “Please!”
Nearby, the patter of footsteps and the clank of plates in the cafeteria continued.
But no matter how hard I rattled the door, no one came. No one responded to my cries.
I felt a fresh surge of terror. Could it be true, what I’d been dreading? Maybe
they didn’t hear me, didn’t even register my existence any longer. Could I have already
been – Forgotten? Just like that? I knew what angels did to demons, of course I did; my
parents had been whispering it into my ear as soon as I was old enough to walk. What I
wasn’t so sure about was how long it took for the effects to take place. But – there was a
but, thank badness. He hadn’t managed to hold onto me for long. I knew prolonged
physical contact for at least five minutes or so was essential to make the curse work.
I remembered once when my family and I had gone to Cornwall for the summer
holidays. We’d settled down on a spot overlooking the sea, about to tuck in our fish and
chips, when this bloke had wandered past. He was muttering to himself, and his hair
was tangled and filthy, but the thing that made me gasp, horror-struck, was his arm.
Well, or more accurately speaking, what was left of it. His arm ended in a bloody stump
just below his elbow.
“Forgotten,” my mother hissed as he wobbled past us. “Hacked off his own
arm.”
I jumped up from my seat. “We – we have to do something! He might throw
himself off a cliff or something. We have to help him!”
My mother seized me and pulled me down again. Her voice was icy when she
said: “Don’t make a fool of yourself. We’re demons, Rae. We help nobody; you keep
your head down, mind your own business, warp the world a little.” She held my chin
and looked into my eyes. “You don’t want to end up like that man, do you? That’s why
we must fight angels. Do you understand me, child? They’re evil. They’ll stop at
nothing to remove the world of our kind.”
70
 When she’d let go of me, I’d found I’d completely lost my appetite.
I steeled myself now, locked in the cubicle. There was a gap beneath the door, I
realised. Would it be large enough for me to crawl through? I clenched my teeth; there
was no other way. I had to get out of this toilet, or I’d rot inside. I lay down, on my
tummy, my face flattened on the cold floor, and started to push myself out. I’d never
been so glad before of being small. I squeezed past the door and dragged myself out. I
swore, and stumbled to my feet.
Forgotten or not, I was free.
I raced out into the corridor, past the cafeteria, down a flight of stairs, into the
open. The February sky above me was bleak. I came to a panting halt, and scrutinised
the courtyard. I broke into a run again, until I reached a small huddle of people, all
wearing matching uniforms, training at the left far side. My squad.
“Hey,” I gasped out to Janet, a tall brunette whom I’d been getting on well with
lately.
She didn’t so much as turn towards me, just continued rummaging around in a
bag, nor did any of the four others.
“Janet,” I said, desperately. My head was swimming with redoubled fear. I
willed myself not to start weeping, and it was harder than I’d thought.
Janet cut her eyes at me, irritated. “What, Rae? Jenks’s in one of his moods
today, haven’t you heard?” she hissed. “No talking. He’s already made Squad Four
repeat the exercise twice.”
I felt almost light-headed with relief. “You can see me? Hear me?” I wheezed.
Janet frowned. “You drunk or something? Wasn’t blind or deaf, last time I
checked. What you hugging me for? Get off.”
“Nothing,” I said, grinning hugely. It was going to be alright. Of course it was
going to be alright. “I’m just so happy to see you. To see all of you guys. Isn’t this a
wonderful place?”
Janet darted another look at me. “Feeling okay, Rae?” she said, but my
enthusiasm was contagious, and I could see her expression softening into a smile.
“We’re doing equipment carry, so grab something, okay?”
“Okay!”
It hadn’t been just the relief talking: I really was enjoying my training course
here, I thought, as I dragged a hose across the courtyard, puffing, then I joined my squad
for a run.
“Come on, team!” my fellow trainee Wilson shouted, in the lead. “Let’s kick
arse!”
A cheer went up, and we ran on. Listening to the perfect synchrony of our feet
pounding on the concrete, our breaths frosting and intermingling in the air as if we were
a single panting being, I realised I was a part of something bigger than me. Here, I
wasn’t different or a freak. I didn’t have to be good enough or mean enough or pretend
to be something I wasn’t.
Finally, after all these years, in this unlikely place, I fit in.

***
Thud.
Thud.
“Rae, don’t forget it’s your turn this week to –” Sean froze in the doorway of my
bedroom, gawking at the wall in front of me. “Christ on a bike. What the fuck are you
doing?”

71
 I turned towards my flatmate, the knife still clutched in my hand. I wasn’t using
Sebastian, of course, it was much too precious. When I practised I resorted to the set of
knives my parents had given me for my thirteen birthday, wicked, sharp and definitely
useful, but nothing fancy.
I scowled at Sean. My earlier triumphant mood at the fire station hadn’t lasted
long. The memory of a black-haired young man with his hands clamped around my
throat swam into my mind, and I felt the rage rise in me like a fever.
“Knock, can’t you?” I said. “I don’t go barging into your room.”
“But – but what’s this – what –”
I smiled. I took a step backwards, right hand poised over my shoulder, hip
angled, just like my father had taught me, all those years ago. I could hear his voice in
my head: Calm and cool as a breeze, Rae. Focus.
I squinted, and the makeshift dartboard I’d set up on the wall above my bed
sharpened into focus. Then I took aim. A shrill whistle through the air, and the knife dug
itself into the bull’s eye, wobbling. A bit showy, perhaps, what I’d just done. I couldn’t
help myself, though. I’d known the look on Sean’s face would be priceless. His features,
as I’d predicted, were sagging with shock. He ran a hand over his closely cropped hair.
“Holy shit, Rae. You seem like such a sweet, quiet girl, well, most of the time,
anyway – I didn’t know this violent streak of yours.”
Sweet. Ugh. I loathed that word.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, pulling the knife free with a twang.
I walked back to where I was standing and positioned myself again. I pretended
the bullet’s eye was Kal’s head, then I threw the knife again. Again. And again. Practice
makes perfect.
“I’m full of surprises.”
“Looks like it. What happened to your throat? It’s all bruised,” asked Sean, more
out of curiosity than concern. “You got into a fight or something?”
From his tone I could tell he’d meant to mock me, but then he glanced up at the
dashboard, and the taunt in his voice turned half-hearted.
“Something like that,” I said.
Yesterday’s events crowded around in my mind: Kal attacking me, the
expression on his face at realising who I was, mirrored in my own, his hands on my
skin, pinning me down. He’d meant to hold me down for long enough for him to
concentrate and make me Forgotten, I knew he had. Thank Hell I’d kicked out and
whipped Sebastian out. I always kept it tucked up in my right boot, just in case. I’d
shallowly stabbed Kal on the shoulder, twice, managing to make him stumble
backwards. I’d fled the flat before he was up on his feet again.
I’d seen the look in Kal’s eyes. The hatred, and the wariness, if not downright
fear. It filled me with a strange sense of glee, that someone like him could be afraid of
me. The feeling, although wonderful, wasn’t new: it was always like this after hunting. I
felt electric and whole. I wondered what my parents would think, if they’d be proud of
me.
I wanted them to be proud of me for once, so much.
Maybe Kal had known all along what I was. Maybe it had all been a trap he’d
set up beforehand, and he’d got closer to me on purpose. But deep down, I knew this
wasn’t true. I’d seen the shock in his eyes. Idiotically, some part of me somehow felt …
disappointed. I thought we were getting along. I thought, even, that we could … in a
flash, the memory of my thoughts that night drifted back into my mind, and I cringed. I
smothered down a smudge of pain.
I was a moron.

72
 “You’re good at it,” said Sean, from the doorway. I thought I detected a smudge
of grudging respect in his voice. “Is it – is it a hobby?”
“A hobby?” I echoed. The knife thudded against the wall. A shower of patchy
white paint rained down on my bed. “No. It’s being prepared, Sean. That’s what it is.”
A nervous titter from him. “Er, nobody’s out to get you, Rae. You’re not
interesting enough, I’m afraid.”
Thud.
Thud.
“Oh, yes there is,” I said, with a certain grim satisfaction. “There is, trust me.”
Kal Mellketh had meant to kill me … the thought stirred a pang of feeling so
overwhelming that I started shaking and the knife slipped from my grasp. Angel. He
was the reason I’d been wounded and tormented for years. He was the reason I walked
out into the street each morning with a faceful of make-up over my right cheek, that my
ghosts talked me into despair, sometimes. Kal Mellketh had meant to kill me, and I had
no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t rest until he’d done so.
If I didn’t kill him first.

73
Kal’s list of Stuff he’d never (usually) admit to out loud

1. Listen, is it just me or is my hair the most gorgeous thing you ever clapped eyes on?
No, seriously. Look at the way it catches the light. I really ought to scrub this mirror
clean, by the way; it’s disgusting. And if I turn my head like this … now look at that, so
thick and glossy. Maybe I should grow it long and then have it chopped off and sell it?
It would make the most wonderful wigs. No, donate, Kal. Can’t you be generous for a
single second? Think what it must be like to be a bald guy. Oh crap, what if I turn bald
in the future? Okay, calm down. Calm down, of course you won’t be bald. Easy now.

2. Sometimes, when I’m feeling down for some reason, I’m hit with the certainty that
I’m going to die alone. I picture myself as a, yes, bald, wrinkled old man living in a
cramped flat surrounded by dozens of cats. They pile on my lap and they climb over the
sofa and the whole damn place is stuffed full of cat toys. Actually, that doesn’t sound
half as bad as I imagined. I quite like cats, as a matter of fact. They remind me of Eden.
Yeah, I wouldn’t mind at all having five or six cats, all pedigree, mind you. Maybe I
could have Siamese, those silky ones. Yes! And I’d buy them these wonderful fluffy
beds and I’d tuck them in at night and I’d get extra posh gourmet cat food at the
supermarket and we’d share king prawns together and –
Woah. Hold your horses, Kal. You’re getting worriedly enthusiastic about it.

3. Oh my god, look at her. Check out that – well. You know what I mean. Where’s she
popped out of? Okay, time to attack. Walk over, slowly now, as if you haven’t even
noticed her. Chin up, shoulders back, flick your hair and – hang on. Hang on just a
second. Is she clutching Becker’s arm? Why is she clutching his damn arm? Oh my god
the bastard. Is she with him? How can she be with him, he’s not a patch on me, is she
blind or something? I bet I could win her over in five minutes flat and make her forget
all about Becker –
Okay, stop. Becker is your friend. No he’s not. Yes he is. The golden rule, man.
Don’t forget the golden rule. And you’re not that big of an arsehole, are you? So turn
around. That’s the ticket. Excellent. Shit, they’ve caught you staring. Smile like you
don’t want to strangle him. Wave back all cheery-like. Perfect. Now who said you were
a bad actor?

4. Right, this might sound lame but I’d love it if a girl brought me flowers someday.
They wouldn’t have to be expensive or anything, nor a fancy – wutdayacallit – species
or whatever. It’s the gesture that counts. It’s always me buying roses and shit. The girl in
question merely grins and it doesn’t cross her head for a single second that maybe I’d
like a silly gift too. I mean, just because I’m this incredible hunk of a guy with an
awesome personality and bucketfuls of talent … wait, what was I saying? Ah, yes. Well,
it doesn’t mean that I’m a lump of meat with eyes and no feelings, you know.

5. The night before a show, even if it is at a shitty little student pub, I get scared
something awful. I know I come across as confident but, actually, all these awful
doubts plague me – what if I forget the lyrics? What if I can’t get a single word out and
just stand there like an idiot? What if people laugh at me and boo me off? Or worst of
all, what if I’m simply not good enough? Sometimes I’m so nervous I have to lock
myself in the toilet with some stupid excuse and puke down the loo. I haven’t told any

74
of my bandmates about this; they’d have a field day if they knew. In fact, only Eden
knows about my stage fright.

6. Every now and again I’m struck with the sudden suspicion that I might be one of the
stupidest people in London, probably. I scraped through my Engineering degree and
thought that the worst part was over, but guess what? Working in the labs is even worse.
I stare at my colleagues around me, all intent and concentrating, and wonder what the
hell did I study, Botany? I imagine them sipping their midmorning coffee and shaking
their heads and sighing that yes, the new kid is nice and everything, but he doesn’t have
a bloody clue, does he?

75
 Chapter 14
Hunters

“Bless my twisted little soul, Verity,” a voice said, in the canopy of trees above my
head. It sounded like something lurking in a graveyard. “Is that what I think it is?”
I stopped in mid-bite of my cheese sandwich. Whenever I could and the weather
allowed, I enjoyed having a spot of lunch in a little park near the Park Royal Station.
I looked up, mystified. The leaves shone. I thought I glimpsed a flare of
movement in the corner of my vision, but when I looked again, there was nothing.
“My, my,” another voice answered, buttery, snake-sleek. “We haven’t seen one
of those in ages, have we, Vesper?”
“That is correct, my friend. And may I say what a lovely sight it is, always, a
demon woman with mozzarella on her chin.”
“Quite lovely, Vesper, if not slightly anticlimactic.”
I whirled around, scanning all around me. I wiped the cheese from my chin with
an unsteady hand and demanded into the trees: “Who are you? Show yourselves!”
A low chuckle drifted with the wind. “Ah, and what would be the fun of that,
dear lady? No fun at all.”
“Are you fairies?” I asked. I felt a prickle of unease. “Are you witches?”
“Witches,” one of the voices repeated, with deep contempt. “As if we’d be
anything so common.”
“Exceedingly common, Verity. Exceedingly common. Never seen eye to eye
with the likes of them, not since that dinner party in the eighteenth century, you
remember.”
“I remember only too well. Fairies, too, dear friend. Rather vulgar sorts, fairies.
One of them had the nerve to swindle me at the last Market. Swindle me.”
“A disgrace. Alas, London isn’t what it used to be, not any longer.” A sigh
shifted the leaves. Then, meditatively: “Do you think our dear lady knows?”
I frowned. “If I know what?”
The other voice slithered into speech: “I don’t believe she knows, Vesper.” Then
it was lowered into a theatrical whisper meant to reach my ears. “Demons aren’t what
they used to be, either. So ignorant these days. No fire about them, no proper class, if
you know what I mean.”
My face burned.
“What are you talking about?” I said.
“Can’t you feel it in the air, demon woman? Can’t you feel it in the whisper of
the leaves? How the sun shines a little brighter … he can’t help the effect he has on the
nature of things. Even if he’s repulsed by it and rebels against it.”
76
 “Well,” the other said, in slow, ponderous tones. “He’s an angel, my friend, at
the end of the day. At the end of the night.”
I felt it, then, a tingle across my skin. A rush of rage and fear threatened to
swallow me.
I scrambled to my feet. “Kal!” I shouted. I didn’t know if I was being brave or
stupid, or both, but at the moment I didn’t care. “I know you’re there. Don’t hide, you
coward! Come fight me.”
“Cheek,” one of the beings said. “You wouldn’t have realised, if we hadn’t
tipped you off. You know, Verity, I really don’t hold with people who pretend others’
merits are their own.”
I ignored them, my heart thumping while I scanned my surroundings. A minute
passed. Nothing happened. Another minute, and another. I began to think – and a small
part of me, if I were to be honest, hoped – that the beings and I had been wrong.
But then there was a rustle in the bushes, and Kal strolled out, as idly as if he’d
been taking a leisurely walk around the gardens. He was buckling his belt, which
clinked in his hands.
“Not hiding,” he said. “Can’t a guy take a quick piss in peace or what?”
I looked at him, and, under the desire for revenge, under the dread, my traitorous
body responded with a jolt of … oh no, was that pleasure? … at the sight of him. His
hair was dishevelled and his boots were soundless over the grass. I could see the shape
of his lean muscles move under his black jacket as he walked forward, towards me. A
spike of something burned in my chest.
I wanted him.
“Kal,” I squawked.
Kal inclined his head in a polite nod.
“Rae.” He looked up at me, unsmiling. His eyes held mine, and my breath
hitched. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I wanted him badly.
He was standing right in front of me, unmoving. The metal clasp of his belt
caught the sunlight and glinted white. I imagined the cold feel of it, the small jingling
sound it would make as I unfastened it off him …Then a tug, a zip, and my hands would
be filled with his flesh … warm and velvety and succulent and hardening in my grip,
down my throat, deep inside me …
But what was I thinking? He was a killer, I reminded myself. He was the reason
I’d suffered so much. I clutched at the thought and gritted my teeth. I couldn’t be weak.
Not after everything. Not now.
“So have I,” I said. I watched him get nearer, his gait the calm, calculating tread
of the predator’s. My skin was fluttering. An ancient instinct in my blood urged me to
run. “I trusted you, you know. I liked you.”
(The rhythm of his body against mine, push and thrust, push and thrust, hard, my
breasts swaying, back and forth, harder, the hoarse sounds of pleasure coming from
Kal’s lips…)
“I liked you, too,” said Kal, with an acid smile. I saw his right hand touch his
left shoulder, where I’d stabbed him. I felt a bitter surge of pride. “And look where it got
me.”
So badly, so badly.
(The exquisite feel of his tongue, rough and burning, up and down between my
legs … my fists curled tight around the dark locks of his hair, begging him to go on and
on and on and on …)

77
 “You intrigued me, Rae,” Kal said, conversationally. “I sensed there was
something different about you. And I guessed right. You’re different all right – you’re a
monster. You killed my parents.”
I stared at him, shocked. I felt the penny drop. I remembered the tightness in his
face when the subject had come up and I’d asked him about his family, back in his flat.
This was what he’d meant, when he’d said his parents were dead … they’d been killed
by demons …
I swallowed. “We’re even, then,” I whispered, holding his gaze. I rested a finger
on the scar on my cheek. “You branded me for life.”
This was followed by a giggle from the trees, ragged, mad. “My, my, this is
getting exciting. She’s not as spineless as she looks, after all, is she, Verity?”
“Not at all, Vesper. This looks promising, an angel and a demon.” A dramatic
pause. “The stuff of legends. The tales gods whisper in the dark.”
“Quite so, quite so. That was a nice turn of word, Verity, by the way. And she’s
right, you know, the demon woman. He won’t kill her, and neither will she. They’re too
similar,” the other voice mused. “It would be like cracking a mirror with a fist. You can
break your reflection into splinters, but you can’t really harm it. It stays where it is, and
stares back at you.”
Kal looked up at the trees for the first time. His voice was icy. “You’re crazy.”
“Very possibly, angel. Very possibly. And you’re so broken, aren’t you?” the
voice asked. “Both of you, so broken. So lost. A pity, really.”
I saw a muscle twitch in Kal’s jaw. Then he lurched into motion. He jolted
forward, hand outstretched. I ducked out of his way, my pulse thumping in my temples.
In a flash I’d whipped out Sebastian from my pocket.
“You’re asking for another stab, Kal,” I said. “Don’t tempt me.”
He smiled at me, breathless. He looked so handsome then, with the hair falling
into his eyes and the flush in his cheeks.
“Oh, I’m always tempting, darling. You ought to have realised that by now.”
He didn’t take me seriously, did he? I glared at him and dashed forward. I felt
the dagger contact with his skin, but he merely stumbled slightly and crept backwards,
shaking his head.
“Nah,” he said, wiping the blood from his chin. “Just a scratch. Come on, Rae,
you can do better than that, surely. Aren’t you a demon, the epitome of all evil?”
I reddened with fury at the mocking in his voice. We circled each other, panting,
eyes never leaving the other’s face. It was a dance of sorts: there was a rhythm to it, a
cadence. It wasn’t as unbalanced as you’d expect; Kal was larger than me, but I was
agile on my feet, quicker.
“And aren’t you an angel?” I countered. “Aren’t you supposed to forgive
people? Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, good?”
“She has a point, you know,” one of the voices said. “I don’t want to take sides,
but there you go.”
Kal shook his head. “Well, so sorry to disappoint you folks.”
A blur, and he was by my side. I felt his hand close around my wrist. A sharp
pain shot up my arm, and I cried out. Cursing, I yanked myself out of his grasp.
“I believe you fail to realise, my dears, that you’re two sides of the same coin,”
the smooth voice said. “Good and Evil, they balance each other out. You need the other
to exist, to stir the hearts of people, to be real. You can’t have one without the other.”
“Bullshit,” snarled Kal.
He launched himself at me again, sending me sprawling to my feet this time.
Gasping for air, I scrambled into a sitting position.

78
 “She has such contradictory thoughts about you, angel, you know,” the voice
said, in a confidential manner. With a shudder, I felt something probe at the corners of
my skull. “She wants to hurt you and yet she longs for you to hold her close and – dear
me – she positively burns to –”
I let out a howl of humiliation and flailed out at Kal. We rolled together on the
grass, a kicking, struggling tangle of limbs, while the voices overhead gasped and
cheered as though they were watching an enthralling football match.
I shifted awkwardly on the grass, fumbling to grab my dagger from the ground,
where it had tumbled to. Kal noticed. He leaned over in a flash, snatched it up and sent
it skidding away into the bushes.
“There,” he said. “Play clean, Rae. No nasty weapons: I have none.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” I grunted, scarcely able to breathe. “You’re the
weapon.”
He smiled. “Spot-on. Close your eyes, now. I’m sorry about this. I think.”
I kept my eyes wide open as his boot connected with my abdomen. The blow
knocked the air out of my lungs, and pain exploded across my vision in streaks of light.
I lay doubled up in a ball on the grass, wheezing.
I hated him.
I wished I’d never set eyes on him.
The world was tilting around me. I blinked, and the simple motion cost me a
terrible effort. Kal dropped to his knees so that he was directly in front of me. I tried to
crawl away from him, but my muscles wouldn’t answer. His face swung before my
gaze.
“You can’t kill me today, I’m afraid, darling,” Kal said. He gave me an amiable
little pat on the shoulder. “I’m running late for work.” He rose to his feet, wiped the dust
off his knees. “Oh, and Rae? Your adorable dagger is behind that bench. Go get it before
someone nicks it.”

79
Seven people Rae would have triplets with

1. Ron Weasley from Harry Potter. A wizard and a redhead? Could I have two of him,
please?
2. Brad Pitt. Self-explanatory.
3. Michael Phelps. I have a thing for big swimmer guys, especially if they win the
Olympics and stuff.
4. This biologist guy who came to my school in Year Eleven to give a talk on what he
did for a job. Turns out he’d worked in jungles in Bolivia and Thailand and whatnot,
researching monkey parasites. It was so interesting, that talk. He was so interesting, and
he was actually kind of hot, too, in this rugged-scientist-sort of-way.
5. Kal Mellketh
6. Kal Mellketh
7. Kal Mellketh

80
 Chapter 15
Hungriest

It was as the Tube jerked to a stop at Goodge Street station that I saw it.
There it was, at the farthest end of the train: a flicker of black leather, in the
corner of my vision. I tensed. I gripped the lip of the seat, straining my eyes to see. The
train chugged on, and the blonde teenager sitting next to me picked her nose in a
leisurely manner.
Nothing happened.
I told myself I was being stupid; my nerves were all over the place lately. A cool,
disembodied voice announced the next stop: Leicester Square. Only one to go. A
succession of dark tunnels blurred past. Nose Picker seemed pleased at a particularly
promising catch. I began to relax again when I heard it, near me. The velvet of a deep
voice, apologising to a woman.
Then I knew.
It couldn’t be. Was this coincidence? It had to be. He couldn’t have been
following me, despite his claims the other day – London was too large a city to manage
to keep track of someone successfully. At least that was what I thought. What I’d hoped.
And maybe he hadn’t even seen me. Maybe he was going on about his life and we’d just
happened to be on the same train.
But I knew I was lying to myself.
He'd found me.
The train whistled to a halt at Leicester Square. My heart was beating hard, and
as I rummaged inside my bag, my heart sank. How could I be such a prize idiot? I’d left
my dagger back at home. Then the doors hissed open, and the crowd inside the carriage
surged forward. I stood, abruptly. This was my chance. I had to make a run for it, even if
it wasn’t my stop. Although it rankled me to admit it, I was powerless without Sebastian
against Kal. I wouldn’t make it to lunch with Vanessa, but it couldn’t be helped. I
suspected she preferred a cancelling friend to a dead one.
He'd humiliated me the other day by leaving me curled on the grass. It had hurt
more than the white-bright pain that had burst into me at the blow. I’d make him pay for
it.
The crowd swallowed me up as we spilt out into the platform. I hoped that way
I’d blend in and he’d lose track of me. If he’d seen me before, that is. I glanced back
over my shoulder. Among the jostling, sweating mass of people, Kal Mellketh’s eyes
rose, like a magnet, and they met mine. He smiled a small smile, no teeth, all grimness.
I swore. I hurried my steps, shoving people out of the way. Not fast enough. I
couldn’t move fast enough. He was right there behind me. He was going to get me and I
was going to be Forgotten and it would have all been in vain and I loathed him so and I
81
wanted him so and I wouldn’t stand a chance against him without my dagger, he was
twice as large as me and why did people walk as though they were strolling through a
sunlit meadow?
I broke into a trot. I collided with the man before me, making him lose his
balance and drop his briefcase. The people behind him slowed. That was good, I
figured. That meant Kal got slowed down too.
“Hey, watch where you’re going,” the man said.
I didn’t bother apologising. There’s a time and place for niceties, and right now
it was neither of those.
Then, somewhere behind me, I heard my name.
“That, Rae,” Kal called out, “was rather rude of you, you know. Tut tut.”
This time I didn’t look back; I couldn’t afford to lose a single second. So I ran. I
ran out of the platform and into a wide corridor and into yet another human river. I
could feel people staring at me, but I kept running, not in the calculated way I ran at the
Royal Park Station, all steady breathing and measured steps. I ran the way I did at races,
the way I loved to run, skin bright, blood buzzing with adrenaline.
But this time I was running for my life.
A stitch burned in my ribcage, and my throat had dried up. I hated this, running
away instead of facing him. It was weak. But it was wise too, I knew. It was the only
way. Round a corner. Past a busker with a violin. Down a flight of steps. A woosh of
warm air announced the arrival of a nearby train, and I sped up, tripping up in the
process. I staggered to my feet again. My lungs were aching. The crowd had thinned to
two or three people before me, who were bolting down the stairs too, hoping to catch
the oncoming train.
I didn’t know where these steps lead to. I didn’t know where I was going. I
didn’t care.
Another step down, and another. I knew Kal was behind me, somewhere. The
carriage doors were still open when I burst out onto a familiar platform. The train let out
a loud hooting. The couple ahead of me squealed, and squeezed inside the carriage just
as the doors whistled closed.
They closed in my face.
I slammed to a stop in front of the train, wheezing for air. Frantically, I jabbed at
the buttons on the door, to no avail. The doors remained closed. Then the train hummed
into motion. With a growing sense of doom, I watched it pull away and disappear
through the tunnel.
I was alone at Victoria station.
Except I wasn’t.
A rustle behind my back. I spun around. And there he was, Kal Mellketh, all six
feet of him, all glossy hair and black leather that shone under the glaring Underground
light. He was smiling.
My stomach gave a painful somersault.
“Hey,” Kal said, as casual as anything. He stood ahead of me, blocking the
corridor. “Seems like we keep bumping into each other. If I were superstitious, you
know what I’d call this?
I answered despite myself. “What?”
He lowered his voice, in a conspiratorial fashion: “Destiny.”
Tensely, I looked about me, but there was nowhere to run. He started to walk
forward, in my direction, and I retreated away from him, backwards.
“I’m getting a little tired of this, Rae,” Kal said. “Of this cat and mouse game.”

82
 And now he was right in front of me, forcing me to back up against an arched
wall that advertised the best burger place in the city. A beer can clanked under my feet.
The blood was thrumming in my throat.
“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” I croaked. “To think you’re the cat and I’m
the mouse.”
I looked at his face. The delicate curve of his mouth, the shape of his bones. I
felt an ache start inside me. I tried not to think about what we could have been. I tried
not to imagine what his skin on mine would have felt like.
His lips twitched. “I never said I did, darling.” He dropped his head forward and
spoke into my ear. “You’re not so bold today, without that cute little dagger of yours, are
you?”
I glowered. “I can hold my own no problem.”
“Of course you can,” Kal said. “But you won’t.”
His hands blurred forward. A second later, my arms were pinned up against the
wall, and his whole body was pressed up against mine, preventing movement of any
kind. I stiffened. I could feel the heat that rolled off his skin.
“Let go of me, bastard,” I hissed, thrashing, but his grasp was firm. “Let go!”
His hands were warm around my wrists. Maddeningly, a jolt of desire coursed
through me, making me tremble with the force of it.
What was happening to me?
“I’m losing my patience, Rae,” Kal whispered.
His mouth hovered over my neck, disturbingly near. My hair was standing on an
end. An inch closer – just an inch closer – I imagined the feel of his lips on my tender
skin and felt a shudder of delight run through me –
“I’ve got to kill you, you know,” Kal said.
“Of course you do,” I murmured. “But you won’t.”
He gazed down at me. His eyes were hard and bright. His chest was heaving.
And then, not loosening his grip on my wrists, he leaned down and kissed me.

***

It wasn’t a shy sort of kiss – Kal didn’t do shy. It wasn’t gentle, or even tentative, an
awkward fumbling of skin against skin.
No. It was rough. Ravenous, delicious. Backed up against the wall, wrestling
with one another. I could feel the hunger strumming his body; it sang in my blood and
pulsed under my skin. He tasted just the way he smelled, of coffee, of the way the air
feels just before a summer storm. My heart was juddering so hard it almost hurt. He let
go of my wrists and his hands slid down my back before resting around my waist. He
pulled me closer to him, and I leaned into him, feeling my whole body responding to his
touch. I weaved my fingers through his hair, marvelling at this glorious moment,
marvelling at –
Hang on.
What was I doing?
I wrenched myself free, gasping.
“Kal?”
Breathing hard, he looked down at me. I saw a riot of emotions dashing across
his face, one after the other.
“Yes?” His voice was unsteady for the first time.
“That was nice,” I said. “And I’m sorry about this, I think. Close your eyes,
now.”

83
I brought my foot up and slammed it into his groin.

84
Eden’s list of the top five things people say when they find out
you’re studying Medicine

Them: You must be such a good person.

Eden: Um. I guess?

Them: You must be so smart.

Eden: *tries to look modest but wholeheartedly agrees*

Them: You’ve seen *lower their voice* dead bodies, then?

Eden: Yeah, it’s interesting. They smell funny, though. Especially if the intestines are
full.
Them: *looks scandalised*

Them: Look, I don’t want to be a nuisance, but can I ask you a question about my
arthritic knee/ spot on my butt/ missed period?
Eden: *remembers you must actually care about people’s health in this job* Yes, of
course. Tell me all about it.

Them: Hey, could you possibly take a look at my dog/ cow/ canary/ baby snake
Mickey? I know he’s not your typical sort of patient, but he’s kind of mopey lately and
I’m ever so worried.
Eden: Er.

85
 Chapter 16
Never o’clock

Mrs Taylor was the actual boss from Hell.

“God, my feet are killing me,” she grumbled, bending down to massage her
ankle. She was wearing designer scarlet stilettos. “And the night hasn’t even started.”
Then she turned to me, and smiled. It was the kind of smile you offer to a child,
encouraging, fake as a new doll.
“Are you looking forward to the dinner, Rae?”
“Um,” I said. We turned around a corner and another street opened up before us.
“Yeah. I mean, yes.”
She tried her hardest to be a cool boss, but it didn’t really work. Laid-back and
Mrs Taylor couldn’t be used in the same sentence. Maybe it was her tone of voice. Mrs
Taylor didn’t talk, she boomed. Even when relaxed, her powerful voice carried over the
others and made you cringe. She was a brisk whirlwind of activity, barking out orders,
straightening our uniform, rushing to and fro to meet clients. I wouldn’t have been
surprised if the woman didn’t sleep. I imagined her sitting up all night at a desk in her
fabulous flat, scheming and planning, expensively dyed blonde hair pulled back into a
bun so tight her eyes popped out of her forehead.
She had a habit of turning up at the pub at unexpected times, to keep an eye on
all of us, I suppose. I couldn’t ever concentrate with her around. She’d lean forward,
elbows down hard on the bar, sipping her drink with a suspicious little frown on her
perfectly made-up face as if she expected it to be poisoned.
She scared the shit out of me.
“Lovely,” Mrs T. said. “Because it’s such an important event, Rae. You know
Anker’s has pubs all over England. All the big fish are going to be present tonight, so
it’s paramount that we make a good impression on them. I want you to be on your best
behaviour. ” She cocked her head to a side. I felt like her reprimanded pet Golden
Retriever. “Understood?”
I tried not to scowl. “Yes, madam.”
She’d somehow managed to discover where I lived; I suspected tongue-wagging
Vanessa had something to do with it. She’d insisted on picking me up at my street. She
claimed she was passing by anyway, and that this ‘was the ideal way to strengthen the
bond between employer and employee’. I didn’t know if I wanted that particular bond
strengthened, but I couldn’t very well refuse. I’d tried to cheer myself up by thinking
she’d probably pick me up in some large posh car and I’d waltz to the restaurant (some
fancy Asian place I’d never heard of) like a queen.

86
 But lo and behold she’d turned up on my doorstep, carless. It seemed I was
lumbered with her the whole way, a good twenty-five-minute walk. It was going to be
torture. I just knew it was.
I hated events like this. I got so horribly tongue-tied that I couldn’t bring myself
to speak to anyone I didn’t know, let alone any of the so-called ‘big fish.’ I tried to
picture all the wonderful food I’d be eating, but my stomach was so tightly knotted with
nerves I knew I’d only be picking at it. Thank badness the dinner was mandatory. That
meant Vanessa couldn’t wiggle out of it. I made a mental note to drag her to sit by my
side.
It was a cold night. I burrowed myself deeper into my coat and saw Mrs Taylor
look at me.
“Are you wearing that, Rae?”
Oh no. “Er, yes?”
“Right.” She gave me a sharklike smile. A bus thundered past. I could see Mrs
T.’s teeth gleam in the bright glare of the headlights. “I thought I said you should dress
up? This is slightly – tacky, my dear. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression of
my employees.”
I felt myself blushing with anger and embarrassment. “Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s
my best dress.”
She shook her head in a mildly amused manner. The hag. Did she think I was
made of money?
“Is it long now, Mrs Taylor?” I asked.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said, checking her watch. “I do enjoy
walking. It’s so nice to stretch your legs a bit, isn’t it?”
“Um, of course,” I said.
“Rae, hurry, I don’t like the look of those alleys,” Mrs T. said, as if I were the
one slowing us down. “Come along.”
I glanced to the side. The alley curved between two rows of narrow houses with
boarded-up windows and darkened doors. They looked like pale corpses in the half-
hearted glow of the lamplight. The street snaked under a dingy tunnel, then out of sight.
It was almost never o’clock.
Then I heard it. Carried by the wind, I could make out the sound of agitated
voices nearby.
A man’s. “Don’t try to deny it, arsehole. She told me herself.” The harshness in
it made me wince. “She’s confessed everything. Everything!”
“Look, mate, it’s all been a huge misunderstanding.” Another male voice.
Composed, placating. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
My steps faltered. I knew that voice. I’d heard it rippling from the stage,
threatening me to death, whispering into my ear.
It was Kal’s.
“Well, it’s too late for that, isn’t it, mate?” The other man spat. “You’re already
in such deep trouble you’re going to regret the day you were born. Little wanker.” The
voice rose in fury. “God. I’m going to fucking kill you, and then I’m going to break her
pretty little neck.”
“Hey, why don’t we just calm down and –"
A loud thud. A beat in the silence. Then came a groan, a drawn-out, horrible
groan, the raw sound of a creature in pain …
I stopped dead, my heart banging.
“Rae?” Mrs Taylor was looking at me, impatience sharpening her features.
“Come along. What are you standing there for?”

87
 “Someone’s – someone’s hurt, Mrs Taylor,” I gabbled. “A man. Didn’t you hear?
Right here, nearby. I think he’s hurt. We’ve got to do something, we –”
“That, Rae,” Mrs Taylor interrupted, “is not our problem. Our problem is that
we’re going to be late for the most important dinner of the year.” She arched her brows
at me. “Yes?”
It was out before I could stop it. “No. I’ve got to – I – I can’t – ”
She sighed. “I wish you’d be more responsible. But as you wish. Phone 999 if
you like. But do hurry. We’re going to be so late.”
It was going to be too late anyway. But I didn’t have the stupid dinner in mind.
If I stopped to call the police and waited for them to arrive, it would be too late for Kal.
I knew it in my bones.
“No. I’m going to go have a look,” I said. The words clawed their way up my
throat, unbidden. Adrenaline was flooding my bloodstream. “See what I can do to help.
Don’t you understand?”
Some distant part of my brain was aware that my panic was completely
nonsensical. It didn’t match what I’d been feeling these past weeks ⎯ the desire for
revenge, the rage, the bitterness. I didn’t know what had come over me. I just knew I
had to do something.
Anything.
Angry shock flashed over my boss’ face. “Rae, I’m warning you. If you don’t
stop this silly nonsense this minute,” – a meaningful pause – “you’re fired. I’m not
joking. Stop larking about, come on.”
I couldn’t walk away, just like that. I wouldn’t walk away. Sometimes there’s
nothing you can do.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Taylor,” I said, but I didn’t mean it. “I can’t.”
The look on her face was the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a long time.
“Fired! You’re fired, miss Carrows!”
Her shouts followed me as I turned my back on her and darted between the two
rows of gloomy houses and through the graffitied tunnel. I don’t think I even registered
her voice or what was happening, not fully. I was possessed by this insane urge to run
forward.
Towards Kal.
In front of an abandoned parking lot I saw a huge bull of a man, tattooed all
over. He was looming over a slumping form on the ground, and my heart missed a beat.
I skidded to a halt.
“Sunnavabitch,” the man snarled. He swung his leg forward with brutal force,
connecting it with the figure doubled up under him. Kal writhed and cried out. My
stomach liquified. “Thinking” – clunk – “you can make” – clunk, a scream – “a fucking
idiot out of me.”
I won’t lie: I was scared, then. I was so scared.
My breath was coming unevenly but I managed to croak out: “Leave him alone
or I’ll call the police.”
The human started in astonishment. He whirled around. When he saw me, all the
tension drained out of his bearing. He smiled at me with a mouth full of brown teeth.
“This guy and I were having a small – disagreement. Nothing to worry about.
None of your business. We don’t want to get into trouble, do we, a pretty lass like you,
eh?”
He was already turning back to Kal, dismissing me. Kal was struggling to prop
himself up into an elbow, his every movement jerky. I marvelled at how high his pain

88
threshold was. Our gazes locked. A small breathless gasp from him. His face was dark
with blossoming bruises, his right eyelid so swollen it had slid shut.
Maybe it was the scorn in the attacker’s voice. Maybe it was because I saw
myself in Kal, lying broken while people strolled by and coolly stepped over you. I’d
have given anything to have someone brave enough to stand up for me, all those years
ago. Maybe it was the look in Kal’s eyes, one that I’d never glimpsed in him before, that
I’d never imagined I’d see.
He was pleading.
It was all of those things, and none of them.
“Girlie,” the attacker snapped. Kal was by no means short or spindly, but this
guy was built like a bull on steroids. He’d beat him to a pulp. “Run along now. Do what
you’re told.”
Rage rose in me. “Fine,” I said. Sebastian the dagger was slippery with sweat in
my hand. This time I’d remembered to pack it.
Time slowed.
It was never o’clock, and Kal Mellketh was alone.
I had to help him.
I shouldn’t help him.
If I didn’t help him, he would die.
If I helped him, I would have failed at my task. I would break my promise. I
would betray my parents and myself.
I hated him.
He made me laugh.
He’d tried to kill me.
He was mesmerising.
He was an angel.
He was mine. He was my destiny.
I lifted my hand and hurled the knife through the air.
It buried itself right into the attacker’s chest. For a moment he eyed me,
bewilderment on his face. Blood burbled from his chest. Then he clutched at himself
and collapsed headfirst into the concrete of the parking lot.
What had I done?

***

It should have been like killing angels.

But it wasn’t.
I tumbled to my knees before a shell-shocked Kal and retched into the ground.
Over and over, until my throat was scrubbed raw and the sour taste of bile filled my
mouth. I’d killed a human. I’d killed a human. I’d promised myself I’d never make the
same mistake again. I’d promised.
Except it wasn’t a mistake, not this time. I’d done it purposefully, in cold blood.
Which meant –
I was a murderer.
“Rae?” Kal’s voice was a feeble thread.
My vision focused on him, with a jolt.
Kal. I’d helped Kal. Why had I helped him? It should have been the other way
around, shouldn’t it? I should have finished him off, or even just walked away with Mrs
T., blissfully unaware, or at least pretending to be so …
Kal heaved himself halfway up, his face white. His lip was busted.

89
 “What are you doing here, Rae?”
“Saving your life, okay?” The sentence trailed off into a choked sob. I was
shaking. I staggered to my feet. “Kal, we’ve got to move. Before someone discovers –
this –”
I tore my eyes away from the silent bulk of the body next to us. Kal clambered
onto his hands and knees, wincing. I saw him stifle a cry of pain. I rushed forward, and
gingerly grabbed his arm, steadying him. He recoiled at my touch, but didn’t shake me
off. I was too exhausted to feel offended. He wobbled into an upright position.
“You okay?” I asked, and immediately wished I hadn’t. Of course he wasn’t
okay. He looked terrible. I noticed that his right hand was sticking out at an odd angle.
“I’ve been better,” Kal whispered, trying to stem the blood that dribbled from his
nose. “That son of a bitch would’ve beaten the crap out of me.”
“Come on,” I said. I brushed the tears with the back of my hand and squared my
shoulders. Now wasn’t the time for wallowing in my guilt. This was my fault entirely; I
had got myself into this situation. I’d have to put up with it as best as I could.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
He took an experimental step, his arm around my shoulders. My knees buckled
under his weight. He gritted his teeth with stubborn determination.
“Yes.”
“Right. Let’s go,” I said.
And we plodded forward, into the night. It was, quite frankly, a nightmare. Kal’s
weight made me stagger, even though he was leaning only partly on me. Panting, I half
lead, half dragged Kal through the tunnel, past the houses, into the street. I didn’t know
where we were going. I didn’t know what to do. I felt another wave of anxiety building
up in me.
The silence between us felt horrid. There were so many questions buzzing
beneath the surface, so much we hadn’t said. With every step we took, I could hear the
sharp hiss of pain whistle through his teeth when he exhaled. I stole a glance at him. His
chest was lurching up and down in an alarming way. I said nothing. I tried to shove out
of my mind the fact that the last time I’d seen him we’d been kissing. That I’d kicked
him afterwards, and fled. And yet I’d rescued him now, which made no sense
whatsoever.
I felt like screaming.
“Kal, we’ve got to get you to a hospital,” I said.
Without looking at me, he shook his head. “No. Can’t.”
I swivelled my head towards him.
“What do you mean, you can’t? Look at the state of you. You’re – you’re – Ugh.
Don’t be stupid, Kal.”
His face was a tight mask of concentration as he limped on. I could almost hear
the pounding of his thoughts: go on go on go on. He didn’t answer my question.
“Suit yourself. You’re crazy, by the way,” I snapped. “We’ll get a taxi. Take you
home.”
Kal stopped. He swayed on his feet.
“See, you’re proving my point,” I said. When he didn’t answer or move, I
looked at him properly. Under the bruises, his face had taken on a sickly grey colour.
“Kal?”
“Rae, I’m going to – I can’t –" His voice had dropped to an incoherent mumble.
Bloody Hell. He couldn’t faint, not now. I tightened my grasp on his waist and
took another step, pulling him bodily forwards. I was sweating under my coat. And
another step. The weight-lifting sessions at the Park Royal were paying off, it seemed.

90
 “Stay with me, Kal,” I said. I had to be strong, for the two of us. “Hold on. Stay
with me. It’s going to be okay.”
I found myself speaking as if I were addressing a wounded animal. Whenever
Cerberus was ill or frightened – thunderstorms turned him into a whining, quivering
thing – I’d use that tone of voice, low and soothing.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise. Walk with me. Come on. There you go.
Perfect. I think there’s a taxi station just round the corner. We’ll be there in no time,
okay?”
He grunted. We trudged on. Past noisy bars and boutique shops and dark parks
and restaurants. My hair was plastered with vomit, and I gagged at the stench. At any
other time I would’ve been mortified to look such a sight in front of someone like him.
But of course that was the least of my worries at the moment. Besides, he looked pretty
terrible too. I could feel passers-by darting curious glances at us. But not a single person
stopped to ask us if we were all right.
Talk about demons.
Then I saw a flash of light spark into the darkness. Heaving with relief, I hailed
the taxi and pulled at Kal to follow me. The taxi screeched to a halt in front of us. I
clambered into the back of the car and shoved Kal inside. He sagged in his seat, eyes
closed, head lolling back.
The cabbie turned around with a frown.
“He okay, your guy? I’m not driving no more drunks, mind. They puke all over
the bloody upholstery.”
“Not drunk,” I hastened to say. Your guy. My insides lurched. “He’s okay,
really.”
“If you say so,” the cabbie sniffed. “Where to, miss?”
“Er. Kal? Tell this gentleman your address,” I said.
Silence. Oh crap, was he – I shook him, hard. His eyes flittered open, unfocused,
then shut again. He curled further into himself. I didn’t remember where he lived, and
I’d deleted all the messages we’d sent each other, in a fit of rage the other day, including
the one where he’d texted his address for me.
I sighed. I was running out of plans. I couldn’t leave him, not after everything.
This meant my options were narrowed down to one.
“164 Arlington Road, please.”
Home.
“Right,” the man said, stirring the engine to life. He jabbed at the radio. Before
the sound of pop music drowned out everything, I heard him mutter: “Young ‘uns these
days. They’ll drink themselves to death.”
I closed my eyes. I’d be turning twenty in a few hours, such a perfect, broken
little number.

91
00:32 Vanessa: happy birthday my girl, love you to the end of the world and back <3
1:05 Vanessa: hey why didn’t you turn up at dinner tonight?
1:06 Vanessa: it wasn’t that bad, you know. Bill Johnson was there ;)
1:07 Vanessa: by the way Mrs t told everyone that she’s fired you but I’m not buying it
1:08 Vanessa: what happened??
2:17 Vanessa: call me when you can

92
 Chapter 17
After

The flat was dark and silent when I peeked inside. Running into Sean now would have
meant a lot of awkward questions. He wasn’t there, thankfully. I breathed a sigh of relief
and half dragged Kal inside.
He stumbled towards the sofa in the living room, but I pulled on his hand.
“Not there,” I said. I imagined the look on Sean’s face when he turned up later
tonight or tomorrow morning and found a bloodied stranger lying on what he
considered to be his sofa. Yes, Sean was like that. “Come on. We’ll go to my room.”
He gave a shaky nod and followed me. I wasn’t used to him being so silent and
meek. I wasn’t sure if I liked it really. A groan of the door, and we were inside. As weird
experiences went, you couldn’t really beat this one: a beaten-up Kal Mellketh slumped
on my carpet. It was beyond odd. I kicked a pair of knickers I’d left tossed on the floor,
out of sight, and perched on the edge of my bed. I felt exhausted.
“Kal, are you feeling any better?” I asked.
I didn’t really understand why I was asking. I didn’t understand why I cared.
And where was he going to sleep? No way I was donating my bed.
He looked up at me. His nose had stopped running blood, but there were
blackened remains crusting his cheeks and lips.
“I think, Rae,” he said, solemnly, “I’m going to faint now.”
And he fainted.
***

I sat up in bed, groggily. I was puzzled to discover that I was wearing my purple
turtleneck jumper. Why hadn’t I changed into my pyjamas? And why did my hair smell
like something had died in it?
Coming from the floor, a sleepy grunt.
I went still, and it all came crashing back to me.
“Untie me,” Kal said, in the darkness.
I approached him, cautiously. Thanks to my demon sight, I could make out the
glower on his face, the angry red marks the rope I’d tied him up with had left on his
wrists. I hadn’t dared leave him free to come and go. He might have tried to kill me
again while I slept. I wasn’t that stupid. So I’d produced some spare rope – the Park
Royal provided us with some – and, blessing his unconsciousness, I’d tied each of his
wrists to the feet of a chair, and the chair to my bed. It was a rather neat job, I thought.
“Why should I?” I said. I stood before him. The fact that he couldn’t see a single
thing afforded me a cheap glee. “You’ve given me no reason to trust you.”

93
 Kal tossed his head back into the carpet, irritated. He’d kicked aside the blanket
I’d tossed over him as an afterthought. So much for being compassionate.
“You really think I’m a scumbag, don’t you?” he said. Well, he had done a good
job of it, hadn’t he? His voice was brittle. “Why did you help me, then?”
I clicked on the light and sat on the edge of my bed. I sighed. The question had
been whirring around in my mind for hours.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I – I felt sorry for you, I guess.”
His bruised face hardened.
“I don’t need your goddamned pity.”
Excuse me? He had to be kidding me.
“Listen, Kal,” I snapped. Standing up for myself, usually, didn’t come naturally.
I had to grit my teeth and muster courage to prevent people from walking all over me. It
wasn’t something I was proud of. But now I was so angry it burst out of me,
effortlessly. “Thing is, you actually did need my pity. If it weren’t for my pity you’d be
a bloody pulp by now.” His gaze didn’t waver from mine. I saw his face change. “I
saved your sorry arse tonight. I saved your life.” I gulped in air. Prick, prick, prick. “I
lost my job. And I’m probably wanted for murder right now. So you better be acting like
you’re grateful.”
Silence. Kal exhaled.
“I know.” A beat. “I know, Rae.” It wasn’t the moved speech I’d expected, but I
relaxed somewhat against the wall. He turned on his side so that he was facing me.
“Weird, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“You. A good demon. Helping others,” he said, and I scowled. “Being kind.
That’s unprecedented. Take my word for it.”
I shot back: “You’re equally as weird. An arseholey angel.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it, darling,” Kal said. “You should think about
untying me, though. Resentment being bad for your health and all that. I’m not going to
hurt you now, I promise. What kind of guest would I be otherwise?”
I eyed him. Even with his wounds, he could still beat me in a fight, probably.
Maybe. I didn’t care to put that theory into practice.
“I still don’t trust you, you know,” I told him, but even as I was speaking I found
myself crouching down on the floor beside him and tugging his bonds free. “I don’t
trust you at all.”
Kal sat up with a groan, rubbing his wrists. I took a wary step backwards. I stood
fidgeting before him, feeling horribly awkward and confused and apprehensive at the
same time. Why had I saved him? Why had I just untied him? I was going mad.
“Thanks. Fuck. I hurt everywhere.” He clutched at his left hand, grimacing. “I
think my hand is broken.”
“You look like death, yeah,” I said.
His right eyelid was still swollen; dried blood was splattered all over his face
and clung to his hair.
“Ever been told what a charming girl you are?” he said. “And for the record, I
don’t trust you, either. I’d be stupid to do so.”
“Well, glad we’re on the same page on that,” I said, dryly.
He got to his feet with an effort, leaning on the chair for support. He prodded at
his ribs experimentally, wiggled his legs.
“No more broken bones, thank god.” He looked at me, then lifted his hands in a
gesture of goodwill. “There. See, I haven’t attacked you or anything. I doubt I’d be fit to

94
do so now, anyway. Right, can I use your toilet? I think my bladder might be about to
burst.”
“I get the picture,” I said. “Yeah. I suppose you can. It’s the second door to the
right.”
“Brilliant,” Kal said. “And while we’re at it, could I possibly have a cup of
coffee? Or is that stretching your demonic kindness too far?”
The cheek of this guy was unbelievable.
“Yeah,” I snapped. “It is, as a matter of fact. Believe it or not, you’re not in a
hotel, Kal.”
He shrugged. “Pity.”
Actually, I was feeling rather hungry myself. I’d had nothing to eat since
yesterday’s lunch.
“I’m going to the kitchen to fix myself something,” I told Kal, walking past him
and stopping at the threshold. “You go to the toilet, then return straight here, okay? No
funny business. Stay put, and don’t nick anything.”
“Of course not,” said Kal, breaking into movement through the room. “As if I’d
ever do such a thing.”
He paused at the entrance, right in front of where I stood. His tall, toned body
filled the doorway, so close to me that he’d be brushing against me if he moved. I
swallowed, hard. His tee-shirt was crumpled and darkened with grime, but there was a
rugged charm about him, even now.
“Who do you take me for, anyway?” Kal asked, softly.
He was looking down at me, a flicker of his old smile on his lips. The smile that
had made my stomach drop and my heart beat faster. But he’d lost his effect on me,
after everything that had happened.
Hadn’t he?
Well, hadn’t he?
I held his eyes. “A killer,” I said. “And a thief, maybe.”
He moved closer to me. I felt my breathing turn shallow.
“And you’d be correct, darling,” said Kal, and his grin was sharp. “Full marks.”
I found I could think of nothing to reply at all, as if my brain had frozen on the
spot. He was only inches away from me. I looked at the slender curve of his neck, and I
felt seized by an insane need to taste the smooth pale flesh.
I snapped.
Without thinking, I went on tiptoes and kissed him.
Kal went rigid with shock. For one long moment he hesitated. But then he
leaned down and kissed me back, his mouth gentle on mine, surprisingly so. I lifted my
hands and placed them on the back of his head. The blood in my veins was screaming a
long, wordless song of hunger and greed.
“Are you scared of me, Rae Carrows?”
“No,” I lied. My hands were shaking with the urge to feel him again. I wanted to
learn the shape of his body by heart. I hadn’t ever wanted anything so much in my
whole life. “I hate you, that’s all.”
Kal smiled. The bruises looked stark on his white face.
“That’s all right, then,” he said. “I hate you too.”
And we were kissing again, against my bedroom door, but there was no
tenderness this time. It had shifted into something frantic, feverish. Kal wound his
fingers through my hair. We were both filthy, but we didn’t care. I bit his lip. I ran a
hand over the slope of his shoulders, and felt him hardening against me. Down the

95
delicious swell of his forearms. Down his broad back, until my head was bursting full of
him and I knew nothing more.
He raised a finger and moved it towards my face.
“Can I?” he asked.
I nodded, breathless.
Kal rested his finger on my forehead. He touched my eyelids. He moved his
finger down the silver trail of the scar on my cheek. I was trembling. He was silent as he
moved it down my nose. Over my lips. His skin was warm and rough. He touched my
jaw, the hair behind my ears, the pendant on my throat, and my heart startled in my
chest. He held my eyes. He touched my breasts and the bones on my hips, slowly. So
slowly. And all the while I breathed in the scent of him, sweat and cologne, musk and
sex.
Kal Mellketh smelled of danger, and it was intoxicating.
Then he said: “Excuse me for a moment,” withdrew from me, and left the room.

***

I returned to my bedroom carrying two mugs, hot chocolate for me, some leftover
coffee for Kal. I handed it to him, and he looked up at me, quirking an eyebrow.
“For me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Guess I took pity on you after all. But you won’t be able to sleep
a wink later, anyway.”
“Sleep?” Kal said. “Totally overrated. I’m a professional insomniac.”
As I watched him, he leaned back on the chair, and took a long sip from his
coffee. I noticed he’d scrubbed his face clean, well, mostly clean. I felt like the Loch
Ness Monster by comparison. I wished I’d had the time for a dash for the shower.
“Ah. Marvellous,” he sighed. “Thank you very much. Hey. Do you live here on
your own, then?”
Curled up on my bed, I leaned back against the wall, cradling the warm mug in
my hands. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes again and sleep for a decade.
“I should be so lucky. I live with a guy,” I said. “His name’s Sean, he runs a
bookshop and he’s a PhD student. We barely tolerate each other.”
Kal laughed. “I take it you’re not – together, then?”
I almost choked on my chocolate. “Hell no. Ugh. Anyway,” I said. “Are you
going to explain why that guy was using you as a punchbag, or not?”
“I slept with his girlfriend,” Kal muttered. “A couple of months ago. Seems like
he found out.” He grinned a wry grin. “Wasn’t worth it. But the look on that son of a
bitch’s face when you threw the dagger at him was priceless.”
I lowered my eyes. “He didn’t deserve to die, though.”
“Sure he did,” Kal said. “I know what I did was wrong, but the guy was a bully.
A sadist.”
“But he was human,” I whispered. “Human.”
Kal rose an eyebrow. “And your point is? You think that just by being what he
was, and not an angel or a demon, he’s a saint of some sort? That he’s blameless?
Bullshit.”
I glared at him. Who did he think he was, lecturing me on human cruelty?
Hadn’t I been the one tormented for years at their hands?
“I know he wasn’t blameless, okay? Don’t use that patronising tone on me. I
didn’t mean that.”
“What did you mean, then?”

96
 I took a deep breath. Was I going to tell him? Was I? I hadn’t told anyone ever,
except for my parents right after it happened. The secret sat deep inside me. But I was
exhausted, and I’d just saved his life, and the strange bond that had tentatively sprung
between us tugged on me.
I had no time for lies, not anymore.
“This is the second human man I’ve – killed.” I saw Kal’s eyes widen with
surprise. I couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear it, so I stared at a stain on the hem of my
jumper. My heart was thundering as I spoke. “The first one … he was our neighbour’s
son.”
Kal’s voice was gentler than I could have imagined it could be. “What
happened?”
“I – I made a mistake. I swear it was a mistake. I was fourteen, and
inexperienced,” I said. My voice was shaking badly, just like it would shake at school
when I was made to stand up before the whole class and speak. Ugh, I hated that kind of
thing. “I was still living with my parents, and the youngest son of our neighbour, who
lived in the bungalow next to ours, came to visit for a couple days. He was rather rude
to me the day he arrived.” I forced myself to go on. “Long story short, I took him for –
for one of your kind.”
“An angel.”
“Yes. An angel. I was so sure … I felt the shudder in the air, the –" I felt stupid
describing it to him; he was watching me intently, and I reddened. “Well. You know. I
guess it feels sort of similar for you people. I felt everything my parents had ever told
me about, at any rate.” I remembered the exhilaration I’d felt, the need for revenge
running hot through my veins. Finally. Finally. “But I was wrong. He was – well. He
was human. My parents told me afterwards. After I’d – um. Yeah.”
“Were they shocked or something?”
I barked out a laugh. “Shocked? They’re demons, remember? They were
surprised alright, but they were so pleased, because I didn’t confess that it had been an
accident, a mistake. They thought I’d done it out of, I don’t know, pure spite or
something. So proud of me. I’d awakened, they said. That I needed to embrace the
darkness in me. Who I was.”
Kal looked right into my eyes. Blue, so blue. My breath came a little faster.
“And who are you, Rae Carrows?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “But not a murderer. Nor someone proud of being
one.” I squirmed, and all my thoughts collided into one. “But what if I am, after all?
What if I can’t help my nature?” It had been a painful niggle at the back of my head
ever since we’d arrived home. “I didn’t hesitate to kill that guy earlier tonight. I didn’t
even think about it.”
“For me?” said Kal Mellketh. Then the question died out of his voice, and a
puzzled wonder replaced it. “For me.”
I felt it then, something shifting between us. I drained the rest of my chocolate,
set it down between my crossed legs and made myself meet his gaze.
“Yes,” I said, and the single word in my mouth was vast. It rumbled, rolled,
raged. “For you.”

97
Lisa and Rae: a conversation

Rae: Lisa, I’m – I’m, oh Hell – I don’t even know how to express it. I’m going mad.
Lisa: I know, my girl. I know. You’re feeling terribly guilty and yet relieved at what you
did and yet incredibly confused and proud of your guts at the same time and basically
way, way out of your depth.
Rae: He’s an angel.
Lisa: Yes.
Rae: An angel. How could I? How could I?
Silence.
Rae: Lisa, what have I done?
Lisa: Oh, sweetie. It’s really rather obvious, isn’t it?
Rae: It is?
Lisa: Well, to tell you the truth, yes. You’ve fallen head over heels in love with him,
haven’t you?

98
 Chapter 18
Morning

I woke up with an awful crick in my neck.

The clock on my nightstand told me it was eleven o’clock. Thank goodness it
was Saturday – no Park Royal training, and, I remembered with a sudden sick feeling,
no night shift at Anker’s tonight either. I wondered what I was going to do about that. I
needed a job to pay my rent, and I wanted to keep my parents’ help to a bare minimum.
I swung out of bed, silently, careful not to disturb the sleeping Kal. It seemed
like the coffee had had no effect on him whatsoever. The sound of his steady breathing
was strangely soothing. He curled up on the carpet, burrowed under the thick blanket.
There was a gentleness about him that I hadn’t ever seen before. I stared at his lashes,
soft on his cheeks, at the zebra patterns the sun drew on his pale forehead. The strong
curve of his shoulder. The way his hands were tucked under his chin, loose with sleep.
I looked at him. Something erupted deep inside me and brimmed over … an acid
kind of joy, knife-sharp, delicate, so beautiful it almost stung… it burned bright in my
chest and filled me whole, this precious, nameless, brittle feeling …
I wanted to touch his face. I wanted to lie down by him and feel his arms tight
around me. I wanted our breaths mingling together and the sun bright on our eyes and
the clock on my nightstand telling us it was midday, six o’clock, night again. Telling me
it was forever. I wanted his smile on me and the smell of him in my head, all the time. I
wanted the deep sound of his voice for myself, to listen to when all else was grey. I
wanted the ruthless hunter, and the singer dressed in black leather, and the broken man
who lay asleep on my rug, tender as dawn.
I left the room.
Sean was in the kitchen when I arrived, standing behind the open fridge door.
His hazel eyes were bloodshot and he was wearing giant fluffy Cookie-monster slippers.
It would have looked comical on anyone but him; he just stepped higher up the
sociopath-likeness scale.
“You finished the apple juice?” he said by way of greeting. “I don’t mind you
having some every now and again, but for God’s sake, Rae, don’t empty the whole
thing.”
“Good morning to you too, Sean,” I said. “Long night yesterday, huh?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Mm.”
I unpeeled a banana and took a bite.
“Hey, could I swing by your shop sometime this week? You’ll let me buy stuff at
half price, won’t you?”
Sean and his mother owned a large vintage bookshop, where he worked every
other evening. Much as I disliked the guy, I had to admit he had a good business head
99
on his shoulders; he’d converted half the place into a swanky cafeteria that was always
teeming with people.
His lip twisted into a lofty curl. “What for? You’re practically illiterate.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not reading the Odyssey, Sean,” I said, “is not the same as
being illiterate, I regret to inform you. And I need some books as gifts for friends of
mine.”
Sean shrugged. “Come by whenever you want.”
The rest of the sentence hung in the air, unsaid but clear, I don’t give a damn.
Then Kal appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, dark hair rumpled, yawning.
His bruises looked purple-black in the morning sun. My heart gave a tremendous leap.
“Morning,” he said, and he leaned against the frame. He was barefoot.
Sean gaped at him. “And who the hell are you?”
“I’m Kal,” he said, casting a look at me. “A –" A pause. “A friend of Rae’s. And
you must be Sean. Pleased to meet you.”
Sean ignored him and glanced at me, an expression of disgust spreading over his
face.
“God, Rae, you’re a fast worker, aren’t you? First that guy who woke me up,
then that other posh bloke, and now this one.”
I guessed he meant Paul, a guy I’d met at the Park Royal Station and whom I’d
had the stupidity to fall for when all he clearly wanted was a one-night-stand. The posh
bloke he mentioned could be none other than Ben. My face flushed with mortification.
And in front of Kal. I wanted to die.
Kal’s voice was quiet but firm when he said: “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, my voice wobbling. “I can handle him.” I turned to Sean.
“First, you’re a sexist pig. So any guy in the world can have as many lovers as he feels
like, but I can’t, just because I’m a woman? Second, it’s none of your bloody business.
And third, this is my house too as far as I remember. I can invite over anyone I want.”
Sean sneered at me for a moment, then stalked out of the kitchen.
“Wow,” Kal said from the doorway. “That’s one delightful guy.”
“Isn’t he?” I breathed deeply in, cooling the anger. “Do you want anything to eat
or something?”
“You’ve done enough for me, Rae. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“Right,” I said, walking towards him. “I’ll see you out then. By the way, I still
think you should have a doctor see you, Kal. Check there’s nothing wrong with you.”
Following me along the corridor, Kal grinned.
“Are you worried about me, Carrows?”
I scowled. “I’m not. It merely gets under my skin, your stubbornness.”
“I hate hospitals.” Kal shrugged. “They give me the heebie-jeebies.”
We stopped at the hall. Newspapers crunched under our feet; every autumn Sean
would cover the entire hall floor with them to prevent it from getting wet or dirty from
rainwater. He really was such a maniac.
I fumbled with my keys. We looked at each other.
“It’s my birthday today,” I blurted out.
Kal smiled at me. “Is it? Happy birthday, then,” he said, and he grabbed my
hand, all of a sudden. “And Rae?”
“Yeah?”
I smiled back at him, easy as drawing a breath. It should have been awkward,
this whole interaction between us the morning after, when so many things had changed,
when we didn’t know where we were going anymore. But it wasn’t, not really. It was

100
merely tinged with a slight hesitation, which was natural, considering the
circumstances.
“Thank you,” Kal said, squeezing my hand, and I could feel the calluses of his
fingers. I wondered if he’d got them from playing the guitar. “For everything.”
The feel of his warm hand in mine was the most beautiful thing in the world.
He looked at me, an almost boyish hopefulness in his eyes. “So we’re – friends,
then, right?”
I snorted, dropping my hand from his.
“Don’t push your luck too far, Kal.”
But we were both smiling as he stepped past me and through the door.

101
Rae’s list of the top five annoying things people say when they
find out you’re a firefighter in training

1. Now arson, my dear. Quite an ambitious crime. Yes, yes. We always knew you had it
in you, of course, didn’t we, Deborah?
2. I’m so jealous, girl. I bet all your colleagues are like all those hot firemen dudes on
calendars and stuff, eh? Can you introduce me? Of course I don’t have a one-track
mind, don’t be ridiculous.
3. Oh, you’re a firefighter? So you, like, light your chimney at home, yeah?
4. Rae, but you’re claustrophobic. What if you had to, I dunno, rescue someone who’s
trapped in a small space? What if I were trapped somewhere? You wouldn’t be able to
do it, would you? What? It’s true, isn’t it? Don’t look at me like that.
5. But you’re so skinny. And you’re a girl. And you’re basically scared of, like,
everything. It doesn’t make any sense. Oh my god, I’m only kidding; can’t you even
take a joke now?

102
 Chapter 19
So evil

“A storm’s coming,” said Kal.

I shifted on the plastic seat of the bus stop. “Yes,” I said. “I think we can rule the
stroll out.”
Two days ago, a ring of my phone, Kal’s voice. Hey, we can meet up tomorrow,
if you like. Start over.
Start over? We couldn’t go back, not now. Everything was set into motion such a
long time ago. Everything had changed.
Okay, I merely said. And I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
“Coward,” Kal said. “It’s just a bit of water.”
The sky was dark. The paper timetables on the bus stop flickered in the wind.
“We could go to one of those coffee shops. There are a couple of them around
here, I think,” I said, and Kal nodded. “We should get going if we don’t want to get
drenched, then.”
Rain started to fall, singing all around us.
“Oops,” he said. “Guess we’re staying here after all.”
“Wasn’t it just a bit of water?”
In mock outrage: “Oi, young lady. We’re getting lippy, are we?”
“I am. You going to kill me for it?” I said. I was joking, or at least I thought I
was.
A sideways glance. “Not anymore, darling,” Kal said, and he wasn’t even
joking. “Anyway, what are you doing for your birthday, then?”
“I guess I’ll have a drink with my friends at the weekend,” I said. “And my
parents want us to go for dinner or something.” I made a face.
“Why so gloomy? Don’t you enjoy it?”
Bitterness in his tone. I wondered what he was thinking, and I thought I knew
what it was. I felt a pang of guilt.
“It’s not that,” I muttered. “Don’t take me wrong, I love them to bits.”
Then I said what had been flooding up inside me for years, drip by drip, pain
after pain, until it brimmed over and spilt.
“But they don’t love me. Who I really am.”
Little Rae, with gentleness in her hands, full of stitches, full of hope.
“They love the version they pretend has been sitting under my skin all along.”
Little Rae, with murder in her heart and a cold dagger in her hands. Little Rae,
writhing with revenge, standing in a dark room in the middle of a pentagram, buying
souls at markets that only half exist.
“And I – I don’t like that version. I don’t want to be that version.”
Then he said, oh he said, “You don’t want to be – bad.”

103
 I looked at him properly, as if I’d never seen him before.
“Yes,” I said, and my voice was so small for a declaration so big. I felt it
swelling out of me. “I’ve had bad to last me for a lifetime.” I pointed at the scar on my
cheek, and managed not to recoil, and neither did he, just looked at it evenly. “You see
this? This was bad. Before. And after.”
The world was grey. A red double-decker bus splashed on.
Kal said, and there was no smile in his voice, “Tell me everything.”
And I told him. I told him about little Rae, with her bright hair and her bones so
small, so easy to love, so easy to hurt.
I told him what it felt like, always being scared.
I told him about the shame and the great gaping loneliness that wanted to devour
me alive and pick my bones clean.
I told him about angelic vultures.
About human demons, and demons who laugh and cradle you in their arms just
like humans do.
I told him that I wanted to put some fires out, the kind that people crumple in,
that I wanted to kindle others, softly, the ones that start inside you and change
everything.
I told him I was always the odd one out. All I ever wanted was to fit in,
somewhere. Anywhere.
I told him it scared me that maybe I couldn’t fight who I was. That maybe a
small part of me would always be monstrous.
Kal sat in silence, his whole body sharp with attention.
“You’re different, Rae,” he said. “Not weird, nor normal. Different. That’s
marvellous; other people are so bland, so bloodless. Why would you ever want to
change that?”
I had no answer to that.
“You’re different,” Kal said again, like a mantra, and it echoed in my ears and
thumped in my chest, different different different different.
Yet this time I didn’t wince at the word. It felt like I had woken up after twenty
years of restless sleep, and I didn’t even know I was sleeping.
“Different, just like me. You and I, why should we conform to what everyone
expects of us?”
You and I, you and I. Him and me, him and me. It tasted so bright, so wide and
aching.
“I’ve spent years wondering why I couldn’t be more like my family. Why I
didn’t want to make any sacrifices, or be a saint, all shiny with goodness, all – all” (an
exasperated wave of the hands) “plastic,” said Kal.
Little Kal, silver ring on his finger, catching the artificial light of a dining room
where nobody’s eating.
“And now I know why. I can’t turn myself into someone I’m not.”
Little Kal, face woodened into a mask of quiet calm while so many beasts thrash
underneath. Little Kal, with the thunder in his voice no-one in his home will listen to.
“I won’t let myself be someone I’m not or will never be.”
And they tell him, be good, be good. And they might as well be pushing his head
under the water until no breath stirs the surface.
“You following me?”
“I’m following you,” I said.
And Hell, oh Hell, I was, I was following him, he was leading me, taking me by
the hand, step by step. I’d been so lost all these years, always, so lost, so scared. I’d

104
follow him to the end and the beginning of time. It took everything in me to stop myself
from saying it out loud, but something must have shone through my smile, because he
smiled right back.
“Before I forget,” Kal said. “I’ve got a little birthday gift for you.”
I looked at him, astonished. “For me?”
A shadow of hesitancy in his eyes. The expression looked odd on his face.
“Yeah. Just a silly little something.”
He tapped on his phone screen, holding it up for me to see.
“I remembered you enjoy running and I took the liberty of booking us both for a
race in March. It’s just ten miles, mind. I’ll probably slow us down terribly, though. I’m
hopelessly unfit; you’ll kick my arse.”
I laughed, thrilled. “I love it, Kal. Thank you, thank you.”
I saw pleased relief spread through his face. I imagined him looking it up online,
taking the time to book it, and my heart stumbled a bit.
“I will kick your arse, though,” I grinned. “Don’t worry; that actually doubles
the fun.”
“Big-headed.”
“But,” I said, “I want another present too.”
“Another? Now we’re getting greedy.”
“Nah. It’s a very simple present. It won’t cost you a penny. I want you to sing.
Just for me. Just for a minute.”
He leaned back against the icy glass of the bus stop. I could tell he was smiling
without even fully looking at him. It was all there in his posture, in the lilt of his voice.
“Very well. I can’t say no to the birthday girl, can I? And what would you like
me to sing?”
“You get to choose that.”
“How generous of you.”
He glanced away and when he looked back at me, he flung an arm around my
shoulders and began to sing. He sang softly, under his breath, in the rain. He pulled me
closer to him, so that my cheek was rubbing uncomfortably against the buttons of his
jacket, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care at all. I couldn’t get over having him by my side,
like this.
In the rain, he sang about being evil, about a man whose middle name was
bitterness. I could feel the vibrations his voice made through his skin. So perfect, this
storm in his throat. So perfect, the feel of him against me, always.
Then he said, suddenly: “I killed a human man last year, Rae. I meant to tell you
the other night.”
“What?” I stared at him.
“There was this creep stalking my brother about. Nate was so het up he couldn’t
even sleep at night. I was having none of it, of course.”
I couldn’t believe he was so matter-of-fact about it.
“So you killed him?”
“Yeah.” Kal gave an awkward shrug. “I mean, I didn’t enjoy doing it, if that’s
what you’re angling at. In fact, I couldn’t sleep myself properly afterwards for ages.
Still can’t. I won’t ever forget his face. But I’d do anything to protect my brother.” He
looked at me. “Anything. You think that makes me evil?”
“No,” I whispered. The storm outside raged on, rain weeping down the cold
glass. I wanted it to go on, forever. I wanted no bus to ever halt by our stop. I wanted
Kal to stay by my side, his voice summer-soft in my ear, his arm around me. “You’re
not evil, Kal.”

105
 “And neither are you, Rae,” he said. “Just as I’m not all gleaming good like my
family pretended, just as you’re not as good as you would’ve wanted, maybe. We’re
light and dark, not pure good, nor pure distilled badness. And, more importantly, we’re
not what we’re born as. We’re what we choose to be. At least that’s what I think.”
“But I am bad, Kal,” I whispered. “I bring out the worst in people. I can’t help it,
that’s what demons do.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“It’s – it’s a demon thing. If you don’t work to control it, people feel down
whenever you’re around them. It’s like you exude some sort of – of, I don’t know, dark
aura that they pick up on. It’s horrible.”
Kal said: “I know for a fact that isn’t true, at least not always.”
“How? How can you know?”
“Easy,” said Kal. “You bring out the best in me, every time. Every time you look
at me. Every time you smile.”

***

(He sang that he’s evil, evil as can be.)

***

And in the rain, in the silence ripe with song, I knew then what it would be like to love
him.

106
11:24 Kal: Eden pick up the goddamned phone woman

11:46 Eden: sorry battery died, what’s wrong?

11:47 Eden: and don’t call me woman I mean it

11:47 Kal: my life is over

11:50 Eden: wtf dude. You drunk?

11:54 Kal: I WISH

12:27 Eden: oh god drama queen alert

12:29 Kal: Eden I’m feeling suddenly sort of feverish and aching all over and dizzy

12:29 Kal: googled it and turns out it’s compatible with Ebola

12:29 Kal: that’s what it said

12:30 Kal: COMPATIBLE EDEN

12:33 Eden: kal calm the fuck down. don’t be ridiculous, how can you have Ebola???

12:54 Kal: yeah laugh at me go on

12:54 Eden: I am you’re actually rather funny

13:16 Kal: just cos you’re in med school doesn’t mean you know everything you know

13:30 Eden: think I’ve studied enough to know there are no Ebola outbreaks in Europe

13:31 Eden: none okay don’t be a pain in the arse again

13:32:Eden: what, you think you’ve been somehow magically infected by healthy
people??

14:07 Kal: maybe

14:10 Eden: think I might strangle you

14:13 Kal: no need for that I’m going to kick the bucket soon anyway. Look I’m
feverish I keep telling you, in fact I’m sending you a pic of the thermometer so you can
see for yourself

14:14 Kal: hang on it’s loading

14:42 Eden: look kal you just have a cold, shut up and take a nap, okay? I’ll nip round
yours this evening if you like

107
14:46 Kal: love you. bring me lotsa chocolates plz

14:46 Eden: love you too you raving nutter

108
 Chapter 20
Chit chat

Clink clink.

“Rae, you won’t believe who’s coming to tea this afternoon. Oh, excuse me,
madam, could I possibly have another glass of wine? Red, yes. Thank you. Rae, you
won’t believe who I’ve managed to get hold of and is popping round to see you.”
“Who?”
“Michael Darraghey! Remember me telling you about him? Petunia’s boy…
he’s about your age. Whenever I see him at work, I always make sure to talk to him for
a while and drop huge hints that you’re single and available and –"
“Mum.”
“Now don’t look like that, dear. And do eat your steak, it’s going stone cold and
costs a bloody fortune. Michael is a rather nice lad, Rae. Well dressed, hardworking.
Has murky financial affairs, is a bit of a crook, if I didn’t know any better. He’s rolling
in it, absolutely rolling in it. He’s going to make it big at the firm, I know he is.
Raymond, tell your daughter Michael Darraghey is quite a catch.”
“Mum, will you just stop matchmaking? I keep telling you I’m not interested in
any of these random guys you introduce me to. And don’t go on about me at work, for
goodness’ sake. It’s so embarrassing. It makes me look like a desperate idiot.”
“Well, you are desperate, darling, aren’t you? You never bring home any nice
men for us to meet. I mean, all right, we’re not asking for a world-famous criminal, but
a simple little swindler would do.”
“Oh God. Don’t start.”
“Don’t say that word. And don’t take that tone with your mother either. You
could at least give this young man a chance; he does sound rather promising. Rae? Rae,
I’m talking to you.”
“Darling, I talked Michael into staying for Sect Evening after tea. He’s such an
enthusiast for that kind of thing, and even if he’s just a stupid little human, he shows
potential. Maybe you and he could start a devil-worship sect together? I do think it’s
high time you lead one of your own now, maybe even start making a trip or two Below
every now and then. Having contacts is essential.”
“…I don’t want to.”
“What? Don’t be silly, dear. Of course you do … you’re a demon.”
“I know what I am. But I’m not going to lead any sect or appear at yours again,
for that matter. I’m not going to meet Michael. I’m not going to warp people’s minds, or
buy souls, or be responsible for anyone’s pain, not any longer. I don’t want to – to be
like you.”
“…Bloody Hell, Deborah, what’s got into her?”

109
 “Now stop all this foolish nonsense. Can’t you see you are what you are – you
can’t rebel against your nature. It’s in your blood. What’s the matter with you lately?
You’re spoiling our dinner.”
“You don’t get it, do you? You never have.”
“Child, are you crying?”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t fight who I am. But I’m going to try anyway
– I’m going to try to be the person I’ve always wanted to be but never dared. Don’t
laugh, Dad. I’m going to do the things that fulfil me from now on, and I’m going to
work with animals, even if you don’t approve. I’m – I’m sorry.”
“Rae, I don’t understand. Why would you choose to be different?”
“Because I can’t turn myself into someone I’m not. I won’t let myself be
someone I’m not.”

***

Ring ring.

“Oh, it’s you, Eds.”

“Hey, great to see you too, bastard. Even my great-aunt Millicent looks more
excited at my arrival than you, and that’s saying something. You busy now? I was going
to suggest we go out for a spot of lunch. How’s that sound?”
“Er, I’m afraid now isn’t a good time. I’ve got company, you see.”
“Oh my god, you’re insatiable, Kal. But no worries, she can come along too,
your new shag. There’s this new pizza place that’s opened up right next to my house.
It’s on me.”
“Eden, don’t be crass. And it’s not like that at all. She’s not like the others.”
“Yeah, yeah. I bet you spin that pretty tale to all of them. Anyway, aren’t you
going to let me in? I’m not going to stand here all morning like a doofus. Let me meet
her; I promise I’ll be ever so polite. Hey, you smell nice.”
“We’ll go have lunch another day, okay, Eds? Friday if you like.”
“Kal, did you just literally block my entrance?”
“I’m sorry, Eds. I told you this is a bad time.”
“What’s going on? You’re acting really weird. Are you afraid I might scare her
away or something? I’m not that big of a looney, you know. Go on, let me stay for ten
minutes, tops. I just want to see you for a bit; it’s been ages. I’ll just make us some
coffee and huddle in the kitchen, quiet as a mouse. She won’t even know I’m there,
honest.”
“Eden, no. I’m going to close the door now, okay? Don’t look like that. I’ll see
you Friday, I promise.”
“Kal. Kal!”

***

Buzz buzz.

16:03 Kal: hey my redheaded beauty

16:04 Kal: okay that’s really cheesy, sounded better in my head
16:05 Kal: what are we doing tomorrow, then? Can’t wait to see you again
16:17 Rae: heyyy

110
 16:17 Rae: just a bit cheesy hehe. Didn’t know we were doing anything
tomorrow
16:24 Kal: well now you do :)
16:37 Rae: great! we could go to the movies if you like. Hey I forgot to tell you,
I got the job!
16:45 Kal: really? Canine hairdresser assistant one, right? I’m soooo glad!
When you starting?
16:47 Rae: Monday. place is called Dogglamourous haha
16:50 Kal: brilliant, you’ll be able to style my hair then.
16:52 Rae: only if you behave :) and I’m thinking that when I’ve qualified as a
firefighter I might enrol in a vet assistant course too
16:53 Rae: don’t give a shit what my parents say any longer
16:55 Kal: that’s my girl!

111
 Chapter 21
Breaking

Kal was late. Again.

Eden checked her watch: it was eight o’clock sharp. She didn’t have a problem
with punctuality. More often than not, she had to wait for a good ten minutes for Kal to
turn up, and honestly, she couldn’t stand that about him.
Eden sighed irritably and pushed the door of the pub open with a tinkling sound.
She’d wait for him inside; she wasn’t going to stand there at the entrance like an idiot
and die from frostbite. A warm blast of air and noisy chatter engulfed her as she stepped
into the pub, which for some inexplicable reason was called Bone and Marrow. Trust
Kal to choose weird places.
“What’ll you be having, dear?” the barmaid asked.
Eden ordered a pint and perched down on a stool against the bar.
“You waiting for someone?” a man next to her rasped out. He bore an uncanny
resemblance to an overfed bulldog.
She blushed. God, was she that obvious? “No.”
“Well, all the better,” the man leered at her. “Fancy going somewhere quiet for a
while? Can’t have a pretty girl like you sitting on her own.”
Eden glared at him.
“I don’t think so, mister. Leave me the fuck alone.”
She glanced down at her watch again – ten past now – and checked her phone
for any messages Kal might have left her telling her he was on his way, ignoring the
man’s injured exclamations (“No need to be rude, I was only asking”). Nope. Nothing.
She wanted to strangle him. She was punching out a furious message when she
heard it: a deep rumble of laughter. Eden stiffened.
She knew that laugh. She’d dreamt of that laugh, those nights when he was
everything that she had ever wanted. She would have bottled the sound and tipped it
down her throat until she was lit up from the inside and her body roared his name. It had
made her smile, so many times. It made her smile now too, despite herself.
It was Kal’s, of course.
So she lowered her drink down on her lap and stared around the small pub. To
her right, a gang of yelling men that made her roll her eyes … next to them … a dainty
girl in her twenties, her face and hands moving animatedly as she chatted –
As she chatted to Kal.
By the looks of the assortment of bottles on their table, they’d been here for
quite a while. He wasn’t late.
No, he was early.
He was with her.
112
 Something twisted in Eden’s gut. Sipping at her drink, she didn’t move from her
stool. Instead, bewitched by some kind of perverse fascination, she watched them. She
stared at the two of them, Kal and this girl with her hair like wildfire and lies, heads
close, shoulders almost touching each other.
She saw the smile on her lips. She saw the way he looked at her.
Oh god, the way he looked at her.
He had never looked at her, Eden, like that.
Laughing now. Heads thrown back, teeth shiny. A wave of rage shook Eden. He
was hers. Hers, even if he didn’t know it himself. She felt sick. She felt loveless. She
felt like she wasn’t worthy of anyone, let alone him. She felt like she’d be alone,
forever.
Eden had known of this girl’s existence, of course. She wasn’t a complete
moron, thank you very little. It had been her who had been at Kal’s when Eden had
gone calling round for him a fortnight ago. She was the reason why Kal had called off
their night out yesterday and postponed it for today, even if he had admitted nothing of
the sort. She was damned if she was letting her get her way again.
She’d even heard her voice, once, on the phone. Eden had rung Kal a few days
ago and a chirpy female voice had answered. She’d almost dropped her phone in shock.
Kal was very particular about his stuff; he was reluctant to let even Eden herself handle
his precious guitar or his phone or his books. And now he was letting her? Eden had
heard the girl on the other line say: “Yes?” And in the background, Kal’s voice, asking
who it was. Eden had hung up hastily, her face burning.
In a week, she’d be history, Eden tried to tell herself. That was what had
happened to all of the others before her; why should she be any different?
But the truth stung at her: she could tell this girl was different, somehow.
She’d seen it in Kal’s eyes.
Eden downed her beer and let the bitterness of the taste swirl around her mouth.
“Another one, dear?” the barmaid said, and there was an odd expression on her
made-up face as she eyed Eden. Something like pity.
Forcing a smile back, Eden shook her head no.
She felt like the main attraction in a freak show, in her knee-high black boots,
sitting by the bar on her own … roll up, roll up, stand aside to watch the great lonely
woman, with her long blonde hair and her glass smile, watch it doesn’t slip and shred
her to pieces, shard by shard, tear by tear.
As she continued to watch the couple at the corner table, it suddenly came to
Eden that she wouldn’t ever know what it was like to lose herself in Kal’s skin. Or feel
the warmth of his arms around her, through her bad dreams, taking her through the
night. They wouldn’t travel the world together, or go to weddings and birthday parties,
hand-in-hand as if merging into a single, unbreakable being. She wouldn’t wrinkle and
silver by his side. She wouldn’t be able to hold close to her some precious creature that
had her eyes and his hair, something that was gloriously, miraculously both him and her
at the same time.
It was not now or never. It was now and never.
Never, never. Never before. Never now. Never, and the word ignited in her chest
and knocked the air out of her.
Eden got to her feet.
She pushed her way through the loitering people and tables until she reached the
corner one, her ears ringing. She flicked her hair back in what she hoped was a casual
manner and looked at them.
“Hey.”

113
 Kal had the decency to look sheepish. “Hey, Eds. We were just killing time until
you arrived.”
Eden resisted the urge to dump the contents of his glass over his head. Kal was a
devoted liar, even if his eyes weren’t.
“I’ve been waiting for you this whole time, you idiot,” Eden said.” You could’ve
at least told me you were here.”
Her own words bounced back at her, taunted her: I’ve been waiting this whole
time.
Yes. She had been waiting a lifetime for him.
“You’re right,” said Kal. “I’m sorry.”
She felt her anger ebbing away until he said: “I just got kind of distracted, I
guess.”
He was smiling at the girl next to him. Had she imagined it, or had the girl paled
at the sight of her? She told herself not to be ridiculous; why would she be afraid of
her?
“This is Rae, Eds. Rae, this is Eden, my best friend,” said Kal. “She’s probably
the only person who puts up with me willingly without being paid a small fortune by
my family.”
They laughed at that, the girl and her, together, and Eden resented this small
moment of alliance between them. She didn’t want to like her. It would be so much
easier to dislike her. She looked at the stranger properly, then. She had red hair that fell
over a shoulder and down the front of her top, and close-up, Eden noticed a long white
scar that ran down her right cheek to the corner of her mouth. She wondered how she’d
got it. Eden had conjured up an altogether different version of her. She’d imagined that
the girl who made Kal act so strangely would be exotic, a voluptuous creature with a
vibrant voice who’d sneer down at her. And yet this girl was small, delicate. Her eyes
were kind.
But wasn’t there … wasn’t there … something, yes, something ever so slightly
odd about her?
“I’m so pleased to meet you finally, Eden,” the stranger – Rae? – said. Her voice
wobbled, but she looked Eden straight in the eye. “Kal has been going on about you
nonstop.”
Had he?
“Pleased to meet you too, Rae,” Eden said, somewhat mollified. What was about
this girl that made her skin itch? Perhaps she reminded her of someone else. Yes, that
had to be it, even though she didn’t really have a common sort of face. Eden made a
mental note to ask Kal later. “Feel free to kick Kal in the balls when he drones on too
much. He’s a royal pain sometimes.”
“Oi,” said Kal, but he was grinning, pleased she was being friendly enough.
“Don’t you women gang up against me.” He swigged from his bottle and set it down.
“Right then. Where are we going next?”
“We?” said Rae, looking wry. “You and Eden are. I’m going to push off home,
I’ve loads to study.”
“Swot.” Kal nuzzled the top of her head. “Come on, just for an hour or so, then
I’ll take you home.”
Kal was the king of wheedling; he usually managed to twist anyone round his
little finger. But this girl shook her head stubbornly and stood up. Eden looked at her
with grudging respect.
“Nope,” she said. “Sorry.”

114
 Kal seized her by the waist. “Please, please. If you leave now, I won’t be able to
sleep or eat tonight or tomorrow and I’ll be a hopeless wreck.”
Rae was laughing. “You’re such a dope.”
Over Kal’s shoulder, Rae caught Eden’s gaze and rolled her eyes. She mouthed,
Guys, honestly. Eden grinned right back.
Eden couldn’t help liking Rae, with her open face and shy smile. She liked her
and yet she hated her … it didn’t make any sense at all … she hated her, for stealing Kal
away, for making him gaze at her like she was the brightest thing he’d seen in a long
time.
Eden wished she were her friend. She knew in another place, at another time,
they would have been friends, and she would have hugged her close and cried on her
shoulder and told her that the love she felt for him was broken and that it broke her.
It had always broken her.
And because she couldn’t be her friend, just as Kal Mellketh wouldn’t ever love
her back, Eden made the hate she felt for Rae a religion, a thing of wonder, of devoted
zeal, a thing to marvel at, so absolute and complete it was beautiful, almost – but not
quite – never quite –
“I’ll see you Friday, okay?” Rae said, and planted a kiss on Kal’s cheek.
Eden looked away, embarrassed at the simple tenderness of the gesture.
“Okay. Thank god Eden is a drunkard like me,” Kal said. He got up, looked at
her. “Coming?”

***

Eden walked straight into a lamppost.

“Eds,” said Kal. “Are you okay?”
She staggered away from it, in as dignified a manner as she could manage, and
joined his side again. She rubbed her head.
“Yeah, sort of,” said Eden. She was trying to walk in a straight line, but it was
proving to be harder than she’d believed possible; it seemed as if her feet had a life on
their own. “Don’t snigger like that, arsehole. That hurt.”
But she grinned, because suddenly it was the funniest thing that had ever
happened to her, and Kal, next to her, was spluttering with laughter, clutching his sides,
next to her, and the world was beautiful and she was happy. She hadn’t fully realised
how happy she was. She stopped dead in her tracks, making Kal stumble, and did a little
tap dance, there in the middle of the dark street. It was three in the morning.
“I’d forgotten how funny you are when you’re pissed,” said Kal, watching her
with a smile. “We should do this more often.”
She waggled a reproving finger at him. “Not pissed. Just happy. Can’t I be
happy? Anyway, that’s rich, coming from you, dude. You practically live on vodka.”
“Practically,” said Kal, flinging an arm around Eden’s shoulders and pulling her
bodily forwards. “Come on, nutter, we’ll catch the night bus if we hurry.”
She was a tall girl, and she was still tap-dancing, so it wasn’t easy. She flung
back her head and started belting out pop songs.
“You’ve got a lovely voice, Eden. I keep telling you that you should join the
band; I’ll get round the lads.”
Eden shrugged a shoulder. Ow, her feet were hurting. And she couldn’t wait to
take her bloody bra off.
“Yeah, well. I’ll think about it. I’ve got exams coming up at the moment.” She
brightened at the memory. “Did I tell you about the surgery we did on Monday, by the

115
way? There was this man who had a bulge in his groin, right, and it turned out to be an
inguinal hernia. That’s a bit of intestine that slides into the scrotum. It was most
interesting.”
Kal groaned. “That’s gross, Eden. You’re making it up just to wind me up. I
hope.”
“I’m not, I swear I’m not, in fact, last week –” Eden broke off. “Shit. I think I’m
going to –”
She turned aside and was violently sick all over the pavement. Kal laid a hand
on her shoulder and held her hair as she heaved. Then she straightened and wiped her
mouth with the back of her hand.
“Woah,” said Kal. “You okay?”
“Shouldn’t have had that last shot,” grumbled Eden, setting off again. “Can you
believe it, I go to pieces at one measly shot. Pathetic.”
“Well. It wasn’t one shot, Eden.”
Eden sighed. She looked at Kal, then.
“Kal? You’ll be there for me, no matter what, won’t you? Won’t you?”
“Always,” said Kal. The word fluttered inside her chest like a bird. “My Eds.”
“I’m not your Eds. You’re a one-woman man now, remember? Is Rae your
girlfriend now, then?”
He smiled. “If she’ll have me.”
“I thought Kal Mellketh didn’t do girlfriends.”
“Well, I hadn’t met Rae, hadn’t I? She’s different from the rest.”
“Different? How come? Yes, there’s something weird about her, Kal. Very weird.
I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Don’t be stupid. Rae’s an ordinary girl,” Kal said, taking the sting out of the
words by pinching her gently on the nose. He hooked his arm around hers. “Tell me
about the surgery again.”
Eden clung to his arm, delighting at the sheer feel of him. They walked on,
through the tangle of streets, on and on, past dead shops and dark restaurants and
flashing taxis. And then she thought, she thought, with the sudden glaring clarity of the
very drunk, that she wished the streets would go on forever so she wouldn’t have to
break away from him, the filthy asphalt stretching out mile after mile under their feet,
arm in arm, breath in breath, oh Kal Mellketh, three in the morning and she wished
dawn would never break over the sky, break, splinter, crash, walking on in the silky
night until there was no end and no beginning.
Only him and her.
She prattled on. “But, oh, I don’t want to spend my whole life doing the same
old stuff, day after day. I love too many things; I want – I want –”
“What do you want, Eden?” Kal said.
It was an idle question, she could tell. He meant nothing by it. But then she was
speaking, the words hurtling out of her, the words stinging as they burst, as though
they’d been built up for too long, because they’d been built up for too long, oh god, oh
god, it had been the alcohol, maybe, it had been the monster inside herself, probably,
choked silent for years.
She couldn’t stand it, she had to say it:
“You. I want you, Kal.”
She felt herself free-falling as she spoke. Then it was too late. She saw the
startled look on his face, and she knew they couldn’t pretend any longer.
“Eds,” said Kal, and she would have wept at the gentleness in his voice. “You’re
wasted. You don’t know what you’re saying. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

116
 Eden disentangled herself from his arm. She gave a shaky laugh.
“You’re right. I’m being stupid. We’d better get a move on if we want to catch
that bus.”
“Yeah.”
They walked on, in silence.
And the monster inside her lifted its head and rocked her in its endless lullaby.

117
 Chapter 22
Us

“I’d like two coffees, please, madam,” Kal said. “With extra sugar.”
“And a Coke for me, please,” I said.
“Right. I’ll be back in a jiffy. You know, you look just like my nephew
Thomas,” the bottle-blonde woman told nobody in particular, beaming. “His thoughts
are as peculiar as yours.”
Once she was out of earshot, I said: “I hope she meant you. It would be rather
worrying if I looked like a Thomas. And do you think she can really see our thoughts?”
“She was just putting it on, I reckon. Witches. Terrible show-offs, they are.” Kal
rolled his eyes, then looked at me. “Hey, speaking of thoughts, that reminds me. You
know that game we played once? When we went for a drink?”
“Yeah.”
Of course I remembered. It seemed like a lifetime ago. I hadn’t known what he
was – who he was – then. I hadn’t known who I was then either, who I was meant to be.
“Well, do you feel up to another round?” Kal said.
“Okay,” I said. “But we’ll play another version of it. Instead of a question for a
question, we’ll trade a thought for a thought, about ourselves or the other. It can be true
or a lie, and the other has to guess which. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds fun. You start, I’ve got to rack my small brain to come up with
something.”
“Uh-huh. My first thought is this: you’re still murdering demons.”
I saw surprise sweep across Kal’s face. “Woah, Rae. Blunt, aren’t you?”
I mumbled: “Maybe.” I had to know. I hadn’t dared ask him before, and it had
been niggling at me this whole time.
At that moment the serving witch appeared beside our table and laid down our
drinks on it. Any hope that she hadn’t overheard our conversation vanished as she
cooed: “Demons? I love demons, especially incubi. Do yourself a favour and summon
one, miss.” She winked at me. “Best shag of my life. Not too pricey, either.”
“I’ll bear it in mind,” I called after her as she sashayed off. “Thank you.”
Kal spluttered on his coffee.
“Wuss,” I said, sniggering. “Blushing like a schoolgirl at the mere mention of
incubi.”
“Well, what can you expect?” His eyes twinkled. “I’m an innocent angel, see.”
I snorted. “Not. You haven’t told me if my thought is true or not, anyway.”
Kal lowered his coffee. “Your thought,” he said in a quiet voice, “is true.”
My stomach dropped. I tried to reason with myself that I was being stupid. He
wasn’t going to turn his whole life around just for me. Besides –
118
 “What about you?” Kal said. “Are you still killing angels?”
I winced. “Yes,” I whispered. “Sometimes. Kal – I’m – I’m –"
I wanted to tell him that it was getting harder to do it every time I ran into one.
That the last time I’d used Sebastian I’d looked into the angel’s eyes and seen Kal’s.
That I’d whispered, shaking, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
I’d felt filthy afterwards, sick with a guilt I hadn’t known before. I wanted to
fling away my dagger and never use it on a living creature again, regardless of what
they were. Even if they were bad. Even if not killing them made me bad.
But it wasn’t so easy. I knew what letting angels leave unscathed would mean, in
the eyes of the demon community. I knew what my parents and acquaintances would
say if they ever got wind of me befriending Kal ⎯ for lack of a better word, because I
knew that what we had went far beyond mere friends.
A sick feeling twisted in my gut.
It would mean betrayal.
“It’s all right,” Kal said, but his face was drawn. “I understand.”
There was a stretch of awkward silence. I cursed myself for bringing up such a
horrible topic. No, I told myself. I’d run from the truth long enough. I’d look the world
in the eye now.
“How does it feel,” I whispered, “when you make someone Forgotten?”
I’d wondered that for ages. I remembered being a kid and lying wide awake at
night, unable to drop off from terror that an angel would somehow manage to creep into
my room and lay its curse on me while I slept. It seemed incredible, simply ceasing to
exist from others’ memory overnight, and what was more, never having existed, as far
as they were concerned. I imagined what it would feel like, to walk around like an
empty shell. Then, perhaps even more terrible, forgetting yourself: the need to eat and
drink so you’d starve after a couple of days, or your own body, so you’d start to
physically attack yourself, convinced your limbs didn’t belong to you.
I shoved my mind away from these horrible thoughts with a shudder.
Kal looked uncomfortable. “Rae, I don’t know if –”
I had to know. “Tell me. Please.”
“Well, it feels sort of invigorating, to tell you the truth. You feel the demon’s
energy flowing out into you. It’s hard to describe.”
“Mm. And you haven’t the faintest idea what being made Forgotten feels like, I
suppose?” I said, then interrupted myself, wryly. “Well, no, of course you haven’t,
stupid of me. I guess there aren’t that too many demons around – or sane enough – to
describe the experience. They all either waste away or lose their marbles, don’t they?”
I remembered a cousin of my father’s; he hadn’t died but he’d gone completely
loopy. He used to stand in his garden, stark naked and bellowing he was a spring tulip
that needed watering. His wife would lock him up in the attic at family gatherings, her
face bright red with shame under her makeup. “Some kind of madman keeps pestering
us,” she’d say. “I’ll have the police on him.” The worst thing about it was that she
hadn’t been lying. She hadn’t recognised him as her loving husband.
Not so much as a single person would comment on the yells issuing from the
attic as if suffering from sudden deafness. Well, I suppose we were, really. We didn’t
notice the noise, or we noticed it in a distant sort of way, wondering what it was in the
vaguest of manners before it slipped from our minds altogether. It was really the
weirdest of feelings. Then we’d all have another bite of roast beef and calmly chatter on
about the weather.
The sound of Kal’s hesitant voice jerked me back to reality.

119
 “Er, yeah. More or less.” Kal looked as though he wanted to scuttle under the
table. He paused. “Although they don’t all do, actually, I think. Not all of them.”
“What?”
“Ninety-nine percent of Forgotten demons, like you said, either starve, or go
mad, assuming a mere ghostlike existence. A half existence. But here’s the thing, this
minimum percentage of them survive, in full faculty of their mental powers, exactly as
they were before they were cursed.”
I stared at him. “How can they survive? You’re having me on.”
“I’m not. It’s just that, well, don’t take this wrongly, Rae, but not that many
demons are decent people like you, you know. You’re one of a kind.”
What was he on about? “Kal, I’m still not following you.”
Kal rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “To reverse the curse, the demon must have
done at least one significantly good deed in his or her past.”
“Good deed? Like helping other demons or so on?”
He shook his head. “Not another demon. They must have helped a human –
mind you, in a completely disinterested way. Only this” – he made quoting marks in the
air with his fingers – “ ‘selfless act’ proves that the demon can’t be Forgotten. That they
don’t deserve to be Forgotten.”
I was still stunned. “But then why – how come we don’t know about this? How
come nobody mentioned this to me before?”
Kal forced a smile. “Like I said, there aren’t many demons rushing around
helping humans, are they? And I bet that the very few ones that do help someone keep
quiet about it, or face being shunned by others.”
He was right. Of course he was. For years, I’d strived not to let on that I was
different myself, that I wasn’t happy with what my parents would have me do. I felt a
sinking sensation in my stomach. I’d been a coward, all these years.
“Man, these games always turn out to be really merry,” Kal declared, in a
different voice. “I don’t know how we do it.”
I laughed, pleased that the tension in the air had dispelled. “Idiot.”
“Okay, my turn now.” Kal cleared his throat in a dramatic fashion. “Are you
ready to lose?”
“I’m not going to lose.”
“Rae,” he said, reaching for my hand across the table. He took hold of it and ran
his thumb over my palm, back and forth. My heart leapt at the intensity of his gaze.
“I’ve been avoiding relationships all my life. I saw my friends’ hearts break and had to
be there for them to pick up the pieces. I saw the most promising love stories turn bitter.
I saw myself, egoistic little arsehole that I was, and thought I didn’t want to be tied up
with another person, or my happiness to depend on anyone else, you know? I thought it
would feel like a horrible burden. But you know what? What we have feels like a
reward, actually. It feels like true, absolute happiness. You’re the most precious thing I
could have ever wished for. And I’ll die without quite understanding what I did to
deserve you.”
I gaped at him, moved speechless by his words. I felt a wide, goofy smile spread
all over my face. “Wrong?”
Shaking his head, he grinned right back. “I win. That was so very true.”

***

Kal had parked his car in a narrow street. Night had fallen while we’d been inside the
café, and there were scarcely any people in sight. I clambered onto the passenger seat

120
and Kal slid in next to me. He tapped at the screen in front of him, and the sound of a
steady drumbeat filled the car.
I groaned. “Not the “best of the Eighties” again, Kal, pleaaase.”
He stuck his tongue out at me. “Hey, it’s my responsibility to convert you and
teach you what proper music sounds like, my girl.”
I laughed. “You’re heartless.”
“I am.” Kal grinned. “And you’re beautiful.”
He leaned over, and now his fingers were on my ribcage, tracing small, lazy
circles over my blouse. I went very still. I felt myself break at his touch. I must have
made a small sound because Kal chuckled.
“Someone likes it, eh?”
I shrugged, in as careless a manner as I could manage, even though I knew I was
blushing.
“It’s sort of nice, yeah,” I said.
“Just sort of nice, mm?” Kal asked, quizzically.
“Er, yes,” I stammered. It was killing me, the slow dance of his hands. I couldn’t
think straight. “Just nice.”
“All right,” Kal said, swivelling his legs right around so that he was facing me.
“So you’d think me terribly insolent if I kept going, wouldn’t you?”
He crept closer, and lowered his mouth onto my throat. I tensed. My heart raced
as his lips moved down, feather-light, caressing my skin. I was breaking, bursting,
burning alive.
“W-what? Yes. R-really insolent.”
Kal smiled a small, dark smile.
“You’re a terrible liar, darling.”
And suddenly we were kissing. At first we moved softly against each other, but
then the kiss deepened, grew bolder. When we drew apart, we were both breathless and
shaking.
“Aren’t we taking you home?” Kal murmured.
“Were,” I corrected him, smiling. “Change of plan.”
I wanted him so much. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him so badly it hurt. I
wanted him with every cell in my body, every ache in my bones, every thrum in my
blood. I wanted this man with the edge in his smile and the summer in his eyes, who
made me laugh and understood me like nobody did, who believed in me when I didn’t.
I wanted Kal Mellketh, all of him, all the time.
I rested my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat sing fast beneath the skin. He
skimmed my hair with a hand, light as a breeze over water. The slow caution of the
gesture told me he was struggling to keep himself together.
Overcome by a blinding feeling, I burst out: “Kal. Let’s go to the back.”
Kal’s face changed. He nodded. A slam of the doors, and we were at the back of
the car, falling onto each other. I climbed on top of him, and his arms went tight around
me. The seat sank under our combined weights. Then a blur of hands. We fumbled at
buttons and buckles and belts, we tossed away, tore, wrenched off, bumping and
wrestling with each other in our urgency, scarcely able to move within the confined
space of the car. It was uncomfortable, but we didn’t care. And my blouse was falling
onto the leather upholstery, and then my bra curled on his fingers. Of course tonight of
all nights it hadn’t crossed my mind to wear my fancy lacy lingerie – I’d carelessly
thrown on my oldest, baggiest bra and pants, holes and all. I let out an internal groan.
A sudden prickle of anxiety assaulted me. What if he thought me ugly? I’d never
liked my breasts. My friends didn’t understand; they were always moaning about their

121
small chests and shooting mine envious looks, but I hated the way it sagged whenever I
took my bra off, as if I’d already given birth to five kids. And I was extremely self-
conscious about my horrible back acne. What if I wasn’t good enough for him?
But Kal just smiled up at me. I saw the hunger in his eyes, and I smiled back,
knowing it would be all right. Was I really doing this? I couldn’t believe I was doing
this. I’d been waiting so long for this. I’d been waiting so long for Kal Mellketh, since
that night when he’d strutted across a stage, grinning and dark, and stolen my whole
world. I rested my weight on his shoulders, my hands shaking with need. My heart beat
faster. His skin was warm. His skin was so smooth, the most exquisite thing I’d ever
seen. I revelled in the feeling that he was mine to touch, and it seemed incredible.
But then, as I shifted on top of him, I was hit with the memory of the first time
we’d kissed, back in Victoria Station.
He’d meant to kill me that night.
Something in me paused. What if – just imagine if –
What was I thinking? I was being stupid. It wasn’t like that now, he’d said so
himself. Wasn’t it? I’d saved his life – surely he wouldn’t – he wouldn’t try to hurt me
again, ever. Of course he wouldn’t.
I could trust him. I knew I could.
Right?
“Rae?” Kal’s hands stilled on my waist. He was looking up at me, a small frown
on his face. “Everything all right?”
I arranged my features into a smile. I shook off my uncomfortable thoughts, and
leaned down to kiss him.
“More than all right,” I whispered. “Touch me.”
“Say that again,” Kal whispered back.
“Touch me, Kal,” I said. “Always.”
His hands were soft inside of me. The air cracked. His hands were rough. His
breath was hot on my ear. He played my body like a violin, like a fire forging brass, his
long fingers dexterous, filled with sweet rage. I shivered.
“You want more?” Kal said in a low voice.
I nodded, unable to speak.
“Ask me nicely, then,” he said, lips twisting with relish. “Say please, go on.”
“Please, Kal,” I croaked. “Please, please, please.”
He smiled. He did something to me; I did it back. We were both panting. He bit
my neck. I kissed the warm roundness of his shoulders, the wide slope of his back, the
pulse on the collarbone, the firm planes of his chest. I felt him hardening underneath
me. His hands and mouth were everywhere. He sucked my nipples, and I moaned with
delight.
Then I slid off his lap and crouched in front of him. I winced, feeling something
poking into my thigh.
“Ouch.” I felt around in the half-dark and my hand upset a pile of higgledy-
piggledy books. I took one and waved it at the seated Kal. “Um, do you mind if I move
your books? They’re kind of distracting me.”
Kal took the book from my hand and peered at it.
“Oooh, 1984,” he said. “1984, Rae. This is one hell of a book. The language, the
questions the author poses –”
“Kal,” I interrupted, wryly. “Are you sure this is the time for a literary debate?”
“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. Carry on, carry on. I wouldn’t dream of, er,
distracting you.”
“Yeah, exactly.”

122
 We both laughed, together, and I loved him so much at that moment.
I moved closer to Kal, between his legs. He quietened, and the amusement died
out of his expression. There was now something of the carnivore in his face as he gazed
down at me.
I caressed and kissed and touched and stroked every corner of him. He smelled
of mint and of my saliva. Downwards, down the taut plane of his abdomen, which
expanded and smoothed with every breath. I touched him excruciatingly slowly,
deliberately so, drawing out the seconds and his agony. I stopped on his pelvis, and
remained there unmoving for several seconds. His breathing had become laborious. He
let out a sudden grunt of frustration, wrenching a smirk from me. Having him at my
mercy made me feel incredibly powerful.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, Kal,” I whispered. “Tell me.”
He told me.
“What was that again? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that.”
He repeated it, his voice hoarse.
“If you insist,” I said, grinning, and I took him into my mouth.
A sharp intake of breath from Kal. His hands rested on my head, gently. He
tasted salty. The warm flesh moved in and out of my throat, and all the while the
windows fogged with our breaths and Madonna sang on about being a material girl. Kal
let out a sound of raw animal pleasure, writhing. The carpet was chafing my knees. I felt
a wave of heat flood me, and I wiped the drool off my chin and stood up.
Kal understood.
“Come here, Rae,” he said.
I straddled him and pushed him inside of me. We moved, together, chests
heaving in unison. The sweat stuck his hair to his forehead, and his skin was gleaming.
It was then that he started to growl, vibrating deep in his throat. The sound of it made
me ravenous. It filled me with greed.
“Kal,” I breathed, savouring the word that had changed my life, and feeling him
fill me whole. “My Kal.” Then I leaned forward and whispered right into his ear. “You
know, I strongly suspect I might be falling in love with you.”
Kal smiled up at me. “Well, I don’t suspect it, Rae. I know I completely love the
hell out of you.”
I was rocking on his lap, up and down. He felt like gunpowder, like my youth,
like all the times I’d laughed before. Up and down. I sped up the rhythm. I didn’t want it
ever to be over. Faster. His thighs hardened as they rose, then relaxed in the fall. There
was a white-hot wave gathering deep inside me. I gasped out loud at the richness of it. I
stroked his shaved jaw and felt it move as he smiled insolently.
I heard another song ripple around us, and stopped.
“What?” Kal panted.
“Nothing,” I gasped out. “Bohemian’s Rhapsody starting, listen.”
“Oh my god, Rae, is it possible that I might have converted you?”
“You might.”
“I told you I bloody loved you, girl.”
I laughed. I felt whole with him by my side. His head lolled back. His lips
parted. Purred. He was a most beautiful animal. Up and down. He reached around, and
spanked me, hard. Faster still. I felt like I could forgive myself, for all the bad things I’d
done to others, for all the bad things I’d done to myself. I felt like I could be myself,
even the parts I’d so long ago pushed down. Up and down, and Kal was moaning, and I
let the pace build and pushed on.
I felt like I had a place in the world, provided it had him in it.

123
 It felt so good and he was so bad and we were evil and we were perfect.

***

When we got to my flat an hour later, we did it all over again.

124
12:08 Rae: hey had a lovely time last night. Thanx for telling me about it by the way,
means a lot to me that you trust me <3
12:20 Kal: it’s okay, you can call it by its proper name. Kleptomania.
12:21 Kal: I’ve always had a very mature approach to it and everything
12:22 Kal: NOT
12:23 Rae: kal it’s all right
12:23 Rae: look I’m going to suggest something, but don’t fly at my throat okay?
12:38 Kal: okay now I’m scared
12:40 Rae: reckon you should go see a shrink, maybe. It’d do you a lot of good. I went
to one for a couple years myself
12:41 Rae: I can help you look them up if you like
12:53 Kal: yeah guess I should go, been putting it off for ages
12:53 Kal: I’m so fricking crazy Rae
12:53 Rae: I wouldn’t have you any other way :)
12:55 Kal: you’re the best xxx

125
Lisa and Rae: a conversation

Lisa: Rae?
Rae: What?
Lisa: Don’t you “what” me like that. You hurt my feelings sometimes, you know. I only
want to help you.
Rae: Lisa, you don’t have any feelings, honey. You’re not real, see.
Lisa: That’s beside the point, Rae. Quite beside the point, and anyway, you’re being
rude again.
Rae: …
Lisa: I don’t trust him, Rae.
Rae: Don’t start. Please don’t. We’ve gone through this a million times.
Lisa: Just hear me out, okay? I really don’t trust that guy, and what’s more, I get the
feeling he doesn’t trust you either, not completely. You’re all smiles and shit and playing
happy couples on the surface, when deep down… Well.
Rae: Yes? And don’t call him “that guy”.
Lisa: Touchy, aren’t we? Well, when deep down, you know that Kal could hurt you
again. Whenever he wanted. And the fact that you’ve let your defences down would
only make things so much easier. Don’t you see? He’s an angel, Rae. An angel. How
can you be perfectly sure that he’s changed? That he won’t try to kill you, once and for
all?
Rae: He won’t. Don’t be crazy. Of course he won’t. He loves me, and I love him, okay?
Lisa: Oh, very touching, yeah. So you think love conquers all, do you?
Rae: Shut up. I want to go to sleep, for Hell’s sake.
Lisa: You can’t shut me up, dearest. You know what I think? I think you should do
something.
Rae: Do something?
Lisa: Yes. You know the saying that goes: “the best defence is a good offence”?
Rae: Bloody Hell, Lisa. I’m not going to attack him or anything, if that’s what you’re
suggesting. Just stick that into your fat head. I’m not going to lay a finger on Kal, all
right? End of.
Lisa: Even if it means giving up everything you once swore to? Even if it means
backstabbing your family? Even if it means putting them and yourself in danger?
You’ve no backbone, girl. You never had any, really. And all for a guy. Pur-lease.
Rae: This subject is closed.

126
 Chapter 23
Worse

When he heard it the first time, he thought he’d imagined it.

“Psst,” a high-pitched voice said.
Kal stood beside a tawdry souvenir stall at Westminster Embankment, clutching
his briefcase. He’d just left work. Opposite, Big Ben struck the hour.
“Psst,” the voice hissed again.
Kal looked around, confused. Not so much as a single person was glancing his
way. Men in suits and women in sharp heels clicked by, and the horde of tourists that
swarmed past were too busy taking selfies to notice him.
But then he looked up.
“Good afternoon to you too,” the statue said, and there was a trace of
exasperation in her voice. “Deaf, are we?”
Kal stared up at the gleaming figures that loomed over his head. He saw three
bronze women mounted on a chariot drawn by a pair of rearing horses. The one that had
addressed him was at the front, standing bolt upright with the proud carriage of an
empress. She was dressed in a flowing gown and she clutched at a spear in her hand.
Behind her crouched two younger women, bare-breasted, who were peering down at
Kal.
He'd walked past them on countless occasions, and he’d actually thought he’d
felt their eyes on him sometimes, but they’d never spoken to him before.
“Well,” Kal said, politely. “It’s been a while since I last had the honour of
speaking with one of your kind, Mrs, er, Boudica. You’re looking fabulous, if I may say
so.”
The statue preened.
“Queen Boudica, if you please. These are my daughters.” With an imperious
wave of the hand, she indicated the two young women behind her. Giggling, they
ducked behind their hair at the sight of him. “Girls, greet Kal Mellketh properly, now.
Don’t show me up.”
“Hello,” said Kal.
“We wished to warn you, angel,” Boudica said, and she gripped her spear
tighter. The horse on her right whickered, pawing at the ground. “Now, Storm, calm
down, there’s a good boy.”
Kal was trying to speak moving his lips as little as possible; he didn’t want
anyone to think he was a nutter who enjoyed engaging in conversation with London’s
sights. But people took no notice of him or the statues whatsoever.
“Warn me? What about?” he asked, puzzled.

127
 Blushing, the youngest daughter croaked: “Her. She’s not to trust, angel-man.”
She gave a violent sneeze, which made the horses neigh. Absent-mindedly, she flicked a
pigeon dropping off her shoulder. “Oh dear, I think I am coming down with a cold.”
Her mother frowned at her.
“No wonder, you’re half naked, girl. And in front of a gentleman, too! Cover up,
quick.” Then she turned to Kal, an earnest expression on her black bronze face. “My
daughter is right. Beware her.”
Kal’s insides turned cold.
“What – who – what do you mean?” he stammered.
The other daughter hastily rearranged her gown into a more modest position
before answering him.
“She loves you too much, angel. She means you harm.”
Kal shook his head, though his heart was hammering.
“Ladies, I don’t want to come across as disrespectful, but you must be mistaken.
I trust Rae completely. I know I once didn’t, but that’s over.” The hand that was holding
his briefcase had started to shake. “I love her, okay? I love her.” He made himself look
at them. “How can you know, anyway?”
Boudica gave him a smile as old as sin. Below them, the Thames glimmered
silver.
“They think we are dead, and deaf, and blind. But we know… we taste things on
the wind. We listen to people who walk past, and their thoughts are loud. We see things
in the water.”
Kal began to hurry away from the statues.
“I don’t believe you,” he said. “It can’t be true, it can’t.”
“We smell betrayal,” the oldest daughter called after him, and her voice rang out
in Westminster Embankment like a nightbird’s, clear and cold. “Take heed, angel-man.”

***

I didn’t mean to tell him what I did. I was just so angry.

“Look, Rae, just own up to it, okay? You’re just making it worse. It was in the
larder the whole time; it can’t have vanished into thin air on its own accord.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t nick it, Sean? Haven’t you
stopped to think why on earth would I want to take a stupid little protein bar?”
“Well, you’re in that firefighter training course thingy, aren’t you? You need
muscling up, you’re such a puny little devil.”
“What did you just call me?”
“It’s just a figure of speech, Rae. Don’t make such a fuss about it. God, the
minute I’ve found a halfway decent place, I’m out of here. I’m done with you.”
“Suits me fine. You know what, Sean? You need to be taught a lesson. I wish
something happened to you that made you realise that you need others. You need
humbling, that’s what you need.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s your turn to sweep the floor today, by the way. I hope
everything is spick and span when I get back. Cheers.”
I tell myself I didn’t mean it at the time, not really. But maybe, deep down, I did.
Later, I would come to regret those words.

128
 Chapter 24
Worse

It was all my fault.

“Let’s go for a walk,” I suggested to Kal on Sunday afternoon. “Stretch our legs
a bit. We’ve been cooped up inside all weekend stuffing our faces. ”
After I’d stormed out of my flat on Friday afternoon, the quarrel with Sean still
ringing in my ears, I’d taken the Tube and marched straight to Kal’s. Luckily, he had the
house to himself for the whole weekend; his friends were nowhere to be seen.
Kal had welcomed me in with open arms. After he’d closed his front door shut,
we hadn’t bothered to open it again and go out, not even once. We’d slouched on the
sofa, watching silly films and munching on Chinese takeaways – my favourite.
“So?” said Kal. “I could perfectly live on noodles and on you for the rest of my
existence.”
“Dope,” I said, affectionately, making to sit up on the bed. “Come on, lazy arse.
Let’s go have a hot chocolate or whatever. I’ll have to stay in and study a bit this
afternoon; I want to keep up with my classes. Let’s make the most of this morning.”
Kal swung up into a sitting position.
“Okay, okay. How is your course going, by the way?”
“It’s going fine. The training sessions are rather hard and leave me totally
knackered, but I enjoy them. I can’t wait to face a real fire, though, but that’s not till
next month.”
“Oh, I’d love to watch you sometime. I bet you look totally hot in your
uniform,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Men,” I muttered to myself. They were so basic
sometimes, even Kal.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, handsome. Got your jacket?”

***

It all happened so fast.

One minute I was strolling with Kal along a narrow alley, shivering in spite of
our coats and discussing which was the best café in town. The next moment a man
sprung out of the shadows and stopped dead in his tracks in front of us. He wore small
golden-rimmed glasses. There was a tingle in the air around him … my skin prickled
uncomfortably …
“Mellketh,” the angel said.
129
 With a curt nod, Kal said: “Phellis,” and he muttered to me: “Come on.”
The man turned to look at me. His face changed.
“Scum,” he hissed, recoiling.
Faster than I would have imagined possible, before I could react, the angel came
hurtling towards me. In one smooth movement Kal lunged to a side, shielding me from
the attack.
“She’s with me, Phellis.” Kal’s voice was deadly calm. “Lay a hand on her, and
you lose that hand. And then you very possibly lose your head too.”
I stood frozen on the spot, behind Kal, my heart hammering fast. I couldn’t see
Kal’s face, but I noticed the tension that gripped his stance. A small part of me wanted
to protest that I could hold my own in a fight; my fingers ached to draw out my dagger
from my pocket. But I remained motionless. I listened to the quiet fury in Kal’s voice
and the full meaning of what he was doing – the enormity of it – slammed into me. A
sweet ache invaded my lungs.
He was doing it for me.
Silence in the dingy alley with its tired houses and cracked cobblestones, and
then –
“I’d heard you were odd, Mellketh,” I heard the other say. There was such a
stunned disgust in his tone that my stomach contracted. “But I’d never thought you’d
stoop so low. Befriending a demon … you can’t really go much further than that.
Everyone will hear of this.”
He spat at Kal’s feet. A rustle, and a shift in the air, and we were alone once
more.
There was another beat of silence, almost more horrible than the previous one. I
stepped around Kal so that I was facing him again, and asked, cautiously: “Kal? Are you
okay?”
He was breathing hard, still staring at the spot where the other angel had been,
and his mouth was strained in a thin line. He didn’t answer my question.
“Listen, Rae,” Kal said, his voice urgent. “I want you to head back to your place
right now. I don’t care if that flatmate of yours gets on your nerves. You’ll be safe
there.” I made to speak, but he held up a hand, cutting me off. “Don’t go looking for me,
I’ll contact you, okay? I want you to promise.”
I’d never seen him look so earnest before. It made me rather uneasy. “Yeah. All
right.”
He rested a hand on each of my shoulders. “Promise me, Rae. Promise me you’ll
be careful.”
“I promise, yes.”
He squeezed my shoulders, then let go. He exhaled in a slow heavy breath.
“Good. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you because of me.
Because of being seen with me.”
I took hold of his hand, gently. His skin was clammy.
“Everything’s going to be all right. I promise it’s going to be all right,” I said. I
looked into his eyes. “Kal, um. Thank you for, er, earlier.”
It was a poor attempt at describing my gratitude, but he understood. He inclined
his head in a nod.
“Stay safe,” Kal whispered. “Call me anytime.”
As he started to walk away, in that strolling gait of his, his strong elegant body
clad in black, I whispered into the cold air after him. I whispered back Stay safe. I
whispered I love you I love you I love you, again and again, until my head rang with the
words and I almost believed nothing and nobody could hurt him that way.

130
 Not even myself.

***

“Good to see you again, mate. Had fun this weekend without us cramping your style,
eh?”
Kal pushed the front door shut, and nodded at his flatmate.
“Yeah. Loads.”
“Bastard.” Luis paused in mid-bite of Teriyaki chicken leftovers, watching Kal.
“Hey, man. You all right? You’re looking kind of weird.”
“I’m fine,” Kal said, but then again, he’d always been a horrible actor. “I’m fine,
really. I’m going to hole up in my room for a bit, yeah? See you in a while.”
He locked the door, flopped down on the edge of his bed, heavily. He couldn’t
help but replay in his head what had happened that afternoon, over and over. He wanted
to kick something, scream, cry. He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. He didn’t regret
it, of course he didn’t; he wanted Rae safe above all.
But the blurred memory of his parents’ smiling faces flickered in his mind, and
the pain it brought was like a blow to his chest. Then came his aunt and uncle, who’d
always treated him like another son, righteous Cassandra’s, gentle little Nate’s. He
pictured Eden, shaking her head at him, her face screwed up in revulsion.
He imagined the disappointment hardening their eyes. He saw himself cast out,
alone.
So alone.
Kal buried his face in his hands, shaking. Then he knew.
He wasn’t different.
He wasn’t a rebel.
He wasn’t evil.
He was worse.
He was a traitor.

131
 New email in your inbox

From: c.johnson12@gmail.com
To: KalMellk@gmail.com
Subject: Appointment
Dear Mr Mellketh,
I wished to confirm your appointment for an initial consultation this Tuesday
evening at 7 p.m. Attached are the directions on how to find my office.
Kind regards
Christine Johnson
Clinical psychologist

132
 Chapter 25
Shatter

I knew what I had to do.

“Rae,” said Kal, eyes widening at the sight of me on his threshold.
Hardly forty-eight hours had passed since we’d last since each other, but it
seemed so long ago; so much had happened in such a short time. Kal stepped aside to
let me through his front door. He was wearing a baggy T-shirt and jeans that sported
holes on the knees, but he could have been dressed in rags and he would have still
looked like the most beautiful creature in the world to me. He was holding a mop in one
hand, a bottle of cleaning spray in the other.
“I told you not to come looking for me,” Kal said. “Can’t you see I’m dead
worried that we might be seen or traced?”
I looked up at him, my stomach churning.
I could do it. I had to do it. There was no other way. I looked at him, aching at
the sweet familiarity of his features, and forced the words out of my mouth.
“We’ve got to talk, Kal.”
He sighed.
“I don’t like the sound of that. Come in, then. You’ve caught me in the middle of
a serious cleaning session, but we’ll go straight to my bedroom, okay? The lads are
home; I don’t want them poking their noses in our stuff.”
I nodded, then followed him through the cramped hall and into the main
corridor. An odd combination of smells filled the flat: cigarette stench, roasting chicken,
washing-up liquid. The living room rang with the sound of male voices, which stopped
as we walked past, then rose again.
“Hey, mate, don’t we get to meet that famous girlfriend of yours? Come along
and join us; Arsenal are playing.”
Kal poked his head in. “You don’t. We’re going to my room; if anyone barges in
I won’t make curry again for a year. You’ve been warned, you lot.”
Then he made straight for his bedroom, waited for me to enter, and closed the
door behind me. I sat down next to him on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the duvet,
which was patterned with leaping green frogs.
Kal turned to look at me. “So,” he said.
I swallowed the huge lump in my throat. “So,” I croaked, and the tension in me
had built up so that I’d burst if I waited a second longer. Before I could chicken out, I
blurted: “Kal, we can’t do this anymore.”
His blue eyes narrowed.
“What can’t we do anymore?”
Oh Hell. This wasn’t going to be easy.
133
 “This,” I said. My voice was shaking. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was
doing the right thing, though, wasn’t I? Wasn’t I? “Us.”
His whole face contorted in shock.
“What? Why?”
Deep breath.
“I saw the look on your face the other day when you, you know … rescued me
from that angel. I saw the pain in your eyes. I saw how much it cost you to reach that
decision. To – to turn on your own kind,” I managed to say.
Kal wasn’t looking at me now. He was staring at the newly gleaming
floorboards, an oddly blank expression on his face.
“I won’t let you turn into a traitor,” I whispered. “I won’t let myself turn you into
a traitor. I don’t think I could live with the knowledge that I was the one responsible for
that.”
He looked at me sideways. “You saved me first.”
I tried to smile. Oh, that hadn’t been easy either. “Right. We’re even, then. All
debts settled.”
He let out a heavy exhale. “Rae, for fuck’s sake, I didn’t do – that – to settle a
stupid debt or whatever. I did it because, strange as it might seem to you, I actually care
about you, you know."
This was turning out all wrong.
“I know you do. I know, I know,” I mumbled.
I grasped his hand and squeezed it. He didn’t let go, but he didn’t squeeze back
either. He meant the world to me, this man with the frayed jeans and the dark
dishevelled hair, even if he didn’t fully realise it. Even if I didn’t say it out loud.
“But can’t you see we can’t do this? If word gets around that we’re together,
we’ll be hunted down, sooner or later,” I gabbled, desperately. I suspected he’d been
thinking the same thing, from the look on his face. “We’ll be cast out from our kind, and
bring shame to our families, or even killed, maybe. We’ll be – monsters.”
He closed his eyes, brought his intertwined hands up to rest against his forehead.
He looked as though he were praying.
But Kal Mellketh didn’t ever pray. He only believed in himself.
“From now on, we’d have to sneak around to see each other … what if we
bumped into someone again? We wouldn’t be able to do so much as stroll the streets.
What kind of a relationship is that?” I said. It was the hardest thing I’d done in a long
time, telling him this. The voice inside my head was screaming in grief. “I don’t want us
to hide from the world, Kal. I don’t want us to act as though what we have is wrong.”
“How can it be?” Kal whispered. “It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever had.”
My heart was breaking, breaking.
“We’re incompatible, Kal. An angel and a demon ⎯ don’t you understand? We
can never be.” Angel and demon, demon and angel, bad, so pure, badder, so perfect,
together. “We’ll bring each other nothing but pain. I don’t want you to resent me for
being responsible for it, because I would be responsible for it, indirectly so, and I don’t
want to grow to hate you. Ever.”
Kal shot me a sudden sharp glance.
“You ever walked by the Westminster statues?” he asked. “Boudicca and her
daughters?”
“I – what?” I stared at him, bewildered. “Yeah, I guess. But what’s that got to do
with anything?”
But he shook his head and lapsed into silence once again. Outside the room, I
could hear loud cheering; it looked as though Arsenal had scored.

134
 “I understand what you’re saying, Rae,” Kal said eventually. He seemed to be
wrenching the words out of him with terrible effort. “But I can’t believe you’re going to
give up on us. Just like that.”
“I’m not,” I said, the burning behind my eyes worsening. He didn’t understand,
no matter what he said. I hoped he would someday realise it had all been for the best.
That coming to the decision had nearly destroyed me, that I’d sooner let go of him than
ever hurt him. “I’m saving us. I’m saving you.”
I traced the bones on his face with a finger and Kal went still and his eyes
fluttered shut. I memorised every detail of his features: the small hollow at his brow, the
mole on his cheekbone, how his hair stood up on an end whenever he wore a hat and
took it off, the way his mouth curved slightly to the right when he laughed. I knew I’d
stow the precious memories deep inside me.
“You’re everything I ever wished for, Kal. Everything I ever wanted to love,” I
whispered, and now I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I didn’t cry like heroines in
films, in whom a single dainty tear glides down a powdered cheek. No. I did ugly
crying. I always went to pieces. My voice got ridiculously shrill, and I knew bright red
blotches had blossomed all over my face. I wiped the snot off my nose with the back of
my hand. “But you don’t always get what you want, do you?”
Not speaking, Kal pulled me against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of
my head, and his oversized T-shirt tickled my cheek.
He held me as if I were a part of him.
He held me as if he were breaking.
Then I stumbled to my feet again. I looked at him. He was still holding my hand.
The terrible aching in his eyes knocked the air out of my lungs.
This was it. This was our goodbye.
I couldn’t stand it. I was going completely crazy.
“I’m so sorry,” I gasped out.
Then I turned on my heel and ran out of Kal’s room.

***

After that, I didn’t think I had any mistakes left to make.

But I was wrong.

135
 Chapter 26
Burn

“Kal, won’t you have some more chicken? I made the cranberry sauce ‘specially for
you,” Agnes Mellketh said, an injured note in her voice. She was wearing violently pink
eyeshadow, which made her look as if she was suffering from conjunctivitis. “What’s
the matter with you, dear? Are you ill?”
“Nothing’s the matter, Auntie,” Kal said, with a sigh. He shoved a piece of meat
into his mouth, feeling Nate’s eyes on him. “I’m just not hungry, even though this is
delicious. Thank you very much.”
“I know what’s up with him,” Ronald Mellketh said, leaning forward in his seat.
His eyes were glistening. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Kal frowned. “It is?”
“Of course it is, haven’t I known you since you were a little titch? I’ll tell you
what the matter with him is, Agnes,” Ronald made a melodramatic pause for bigger
emphasis. “This young man here has finally come to his senses and he’s decided to
become a martyr! Just like Cassandra, just like I was. Oh, the pride of it. I’m not going
to lie to you, Kal, it’s not going to be easy, but I promise it’ll be worth it, every step of
the way.”
He dabbed at his eyes with the grubbiest end of the tablecloth.
“What? I – no, Uncle,” said Kal, in alarm. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I
don’t think I’m cut out for that sort of thing.”
Cassandra sniffed over her potatoes. “You’re so thick, all of you. Can’t you see
he’s in love?”
“Oi,” Kal snapped. “Could you all stop talking as though I weren’t even
present?”
“Well, more accurately speaking, he’s pining,” Cassandra continued, ignoring
him. “He broke up with his girlfriend only last week.”
A small, stifled sound of surprise came from Eden, who was seated next to Kal
and had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the meal. She’d run into Agnes
Mellketh in town the week before and Kal’s aunt, who’d always been fond of the girl,
had invited her over to dinner. Eden had cut her waist-length hair short, and Kal
couldn’t get used to her blonde bob. It was as though she’d turned into a whole new
person.
But then again, that had happened long before the haircut, hadn’t it? The night
they’d drunk too much and laughed in the streets and Eden had said – she’d said –
“Haven’t you broken up?” Cassandra said.
“Er, yes,” muttered Kal. “But how do you know?”
A look of grim satisfaction spread over his cousin’s face.

136
 “I knew I was right. Well, you see, trees are whispering things. Awful gossips,
they are.” She motioned at the window at her back with a wave of the hand. A weeping
willow stood in the garden outside, sagging and grey. “Well, not her, all she does is sulk
all day. She’s a right pain.”
Nate nodded. “Well, they don’t call them weeping willows for nothing, I’spect.”
“You broke up with her?” Eden said, a forkful of broccoli hanging in the air.
“You didn’t tell me.”
Kal shrugged.
“What are you going to do, then?” Eden insisted.
Kal opened his mouth, looking glum, but before he could speak, the shabby
clock on the wall burst into speech, startling everyone.
“Kill time, kill time,” it said in a shrill, sing-song voice.
“No,” said Kal, glaring at the clock. “I’ve got to forget all about her. She was
right; nothing good would’ve come out of this. Even the statues knew.” His voice trailed
off at the end of the sentence, shook with the force of a struggling emotion. “Or else
fight back, for us. I – I don’t know. I’m just so – lost.”
“Losing time, losing time,” the clock said, and there was a malicious edge to its
voice now.
“Watch it,” Ronald snarled to the clock, “or I’m taking you straight to the attic
right after dinner, where you can gather dust and rot. You never even bother to tell the
time, you just keep spewing rubbish. I don’t know why we put up with it. Soft-hearted,
that’s what we are.”
“Is she one of us, dear?” Agnes asked Kal, in hopeful tones. “Your girl. Is she an
angel too?”
Kal hesitated, then said:
“Yep. She’s – she’s a half-breed, though. Like Nate and I,” he said.
What did it matter, if it wasn’t true? It wasn’t like he’d ever let Rae – if he
managed to win her back – when he managed to win her back – near any of them. At
least the lie would make Agnes happy; he knew she didn’t approve of mixed human-
angel relations of any kind, even if she didn’t quite say it out loud.
His aunt beamed. “As if that matters.”
It was fleeting, but Kal saw the puzzled little look Eden shot his way. She knew
he was lying, of course; she’d met Rae herself.
“I thought she was hum– ”
“Is Eden going to be your girlfriend now, then, Kal?” said Nate.
There was a piercing silence around the table.
“Wasting her time, wasting her time,” taunted the plastic clock on the wall.
Eden gave a wobbly laugh, the colour rising in her cheeks.
“Don’t be silly, Nate,” she said. “And you, shut up.”
“Bidding her time, bidding her time.”
“Enough! Attic for you, mister.”

***
“That’s the third time you’ve come last, Miss Carrows,” barked Coach Jenks. “I’m
afraid that’s not up to scratch.”
I let out a miserable sigh. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Hope not. You’re to be professionals in no time, remember that.”
Once he’d walked off, my friend Janet turned to me.
“What is the matter with you, Rae? You look down lately.”

137
 I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about him, even though he was the only
thing on my mind these days. Every memory played on a constant loop in my head until
I wanted to scream. That furious kiss we’d shared in the mid of a deserted Underground
station. The first time I’d heard his voice, soaring high above the audience of a Central
London pub. The taste of his curry as we laughed in his bright, cramped kitchen, the
feel of the sun on my eyes and his skin on mine.
I wondered if I’d made the right decision in breaking up with him. Some small,
incoherent part of me hoped I hadn’t really succeeded in driving him away from me, not
entirely. Even if I wasn’t admitting it to myself, I knew I hoped that we’d lie low for a
while, let all this blow over, and meet again one day eventually.
I was being ridiculous, I told myself, sternly. Ridiculous and selfish. Hadn’t I
gone over this a hundred times? Hadn’t I reached the conclusion that this was the one
and only option we could have ever taken? Didn’t I want to be safe, to protect my
family from slander and abuse?
Didn’t I want him to be safe?
Kal and I could never be together. It was high time I came to grips with that.
I didn’t care.
Kal and I were forbidden for each other.
We were perfect for each other.
I knew, deep down, that if we wanted to remain alive, we couldn’t see each other
again.
Wouldn’t.
Ever.
And the hollow inside me grew larger, crueller, more echoing, closing all around
me, over my head, and I was drowning in so little water, in so much pain … I wondered
how it was possible that I could hold so much pain inside me, squeezed tight between
ribcage and heart, so that I could feel it filling me whole with every breath I took, with
every exhale. I wondered how it was possible that the sun had risen again and that the
people surrounding us laughed and chatted obliviously, when the world had shattered at
my feet.
“Got to go,” I told Janet, jumping to my feet.
“What? It’s not time yet, Rae. Ten minutes to go.”
“Never mind that. I’m kind of in a rush,” I said, feeling oddly reckless.
I didn’t care. I couldn’t believe she’d ever cared about idiotic things like that, the
girl I’d been before. The girl who hadn’t met Kal Mellketh. The girl who hadn’t let him
go.
“Rae, Jenks will go berserk if he catches sight of you leaving early,” Janet said,
with a frown. I was usually such a goody-two-shoes, it was little wonder she was
looking surprised. “You know how seriously he takes our training.”
“I said, I don’t care. I’ve got stuff to do,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
I waved at her, turned on my heel and crept out of the gates, leaving an
astonished Janet staring after me.

***

If I were to be honest, I didn’t have to get anywhere. I just couldn’t stand being trapped
inside the station any longer. Once I was a safe distance away from it, I sat down on a
bench, dithering. I didn’t want to go back home, where I’d flop down on my bed, staring
out into space and wallowing in my own stupid misery.

138
 Suddenly an idea came to me: I’d go and stop by Sean’s bookshop. He was
bound to be there; I knew he worked there every afternoon from three to eight. I felt I
owed him an apology. I felt slightly guilty about having snapped at him the other day,
even if I knew he was also to blame for the heightened frostiness in our minimal
interactions at home. He’d been rude to me, certainly, but, I mean, I hadn’t really held
my tongue either.
Mind made up, I set off for the Tube. Half an hour later, I stepped off at
Knightsbridge station. As I walked, I found myself warming to the idea. I hoped Sean
and I would make up, more or less. I knew we could never be friends, but it would be
pleasant to at least reach the status of friendly acquaintances. I could also get a nice
novel for my mother, whose birthday was coming up. Feeling calmer than I’d felt for
weeks, I turned around a corner and another street opened up before me. There was, I
registered in a vague fashion, an odd smell wafting in the air … a sharp, acrid smell … I
looked up.
I stared.
Smoke.
Thick, grey smoke was spurting out of – of – Hell, it couldn’t be – it couldn’t be
– and yet, of course, it was –
I hurtled across the road and came to a stop on the pavement, panting, where a
small crowd of muttering onlookers had gathered.
An old man grabbed my arm. “Miss, you shouldn’t go any nearer, aye, you
shouldn’t. There’s been a fire in that bookshop, we don’t know what happened.”
I felt as if my insides had turned into ice. “A fire? In the bookshop?”
“Yes, miss, we’ve already called the firemen, not to worry.”
“Was there – was there anybody – inside?”
The old man licked his lips with a parched tongue. “Inside? I dunno. Reckoned
best to stay away. Them firemen will be here in no time.”
I stared up at the smoke rising high into the sky, my heart lurching. It would be
at least a good ten minutes before the firemen arrived. I pictured them at the station,
yelling and clambering onto the truck, laden with hoses. What if Sean hadn’t managed
to escape in time? What if he was still trapped inside? Then a horrific thought flashed
suddenly into my mind –
What if this was all my fault?
The words I’d snarled to Sean when we’d been quarrelling came back to me: you
need to be taught a lesson … I wish something happened to you that made you realise
that you need others …
I gasped out loud.
What if I’d somehow managed to warp the order of things? Wished something
evil onto him? I doubted whether even demons were capable of such a thing, but who
knew? On the other hand, we were able to summon the worst memories in a person, the
worst side of themselves. Maybe this was a whole new talent I’d unwillingly tapped
into.
The guilt was unbearable. First the bad-tempered neighbour in my parents’ little
town whom I’d taken to be an angel; then the man who’d been beating up Kal, and now
Sean.
All dead, because of me.
Me.
Again.

139
 And now it was the vision of my parents’ faces that shot across my mind’s eye,
their faces lit with furious fervency as they spoke: Can’t you see you are what you are?
You can’t rebel against your nature. It’s in your blood.
I was a monster. They were right. Had been all the time, no matter how hard I
tried to fight it, no matter how much I strived to deny it, no matter what Kal had told me
that afternoon under a shabby bus stop, while a storm raged around us.
Kal.
His face replaced my parents’, his dear face with the the smile in his bones and
the easy roll in his gait. I felt a powerful surge of emotion sweep through me at the
memory of him.
He’d told me … wait a minute, what had he told me? … yes … yes, he’d told
me that we weren’t what we were born as … that we were, rather, what we chose to be
…
Then the answer came to me, so easily I almost laughed out loud.
I was a demon, had always been a demon, would die a demon.
But I was also Rae. Shy, self-conscious Rae, who wore thick makeup over the
silver remains of a scar, and who’d hide away in a toilet cubicle if she didn’t know most
people at a party. Ambitious Rae, whose breathless laughter trailed after her as she sped
around the racetrack, faster and faster. Kind Rae, who looked after the hound from Hell,
who’d sat watching a bruised Kal Mellketh sleep on her rug.
The woman I was choosing to be would never let her flatmate, patronising,
egoistic as he was, die in a fire.
I straightened my shoulders.
“Here, miss, what you shoving me for?” the old man in the tweed coat said,
alarmed. His grip tightened on my arm, but I shook him off again.
“Sorry. Got to go,” I said, for the second time that afternoon. “Stuff to do.”
“Nothing I could do!” I heard the old man quaver, when I hurried away from the
thunderstruck crowd and into the crumbling bookshop. “Tried to stop her, but she
wouldn’t listen. Ran straight in. You get these raving lunatics all the time nowadays,
don’t you?”

***

The second I stepped inside the bookshop, or what remained of it, I felt paralysed with
terror. I’d be lying if I don’t admit that at that moment I wanted nothing more but to turn
right around and run away from the blazing inferno surrounding me. Why, you might be
wondering? I was a demon, after all. Fire can’t harm us as much as it harms humans.
But this wasn’t a comfortable practice session at the station, where a mistake
entailed little more than a twisted ankle or a severe reprimand. This was the real thing,
and I’d never found myself battling a fire on my own before. Also, I wasn’t a plucky
person by definition. I could think of a hundred different things I’d rather be doing at
this very moment, and none of them involved being particularly heroic or noble.
But I made myself stop. I made myself remember why I was here.
I was choosing this. I was choosing to be brave. I was choosing to be
compassionate.
I was choosing to bury the monster inside me.
Gingerly, I darted forward. All around me, the crackle of burning paper, the hiss
and scarlet glow of the flames. My eyes were watering, my nostrils stung. I stooped into
as low a position as one that allowed me to creep forward, like I’d been taught, and
wrapped my scarf around my face. Just because we were less vulnerable, it didn’t mean

140
I couldn’t die from carbon monoxide poisoning like a normal human, given the dose
was high enough.
“Sean?” I croaked out. I scanned my surroundings, anxiously.
No answer.
Beside me, a bookshelf collapsed, sending a shower of flaming books
thundering down over the floor. He’d loved his books so… I heard the splinter of glass
as something crashed in a corner of the room. I screamed. I could feel the rush of heat
enveloping me with every stumbling step I took. It singed the soles of my feet.
The stench of smoke was overwhelming. It was getting harder to breathe. I was
going to die, right here, right now, and it would have all been in vain, if I didn’t find
Sean.
“Sean!”
Maybe it was too late. Maybe he was here, yes, but he’d turned into nothing
more than a blackened corpse, and his charred remains would be indistinguishable from
the rest of the shop as it crumpled over itself …
“Rae, I’m here, on your left!” a hoarse voice yelled over the howl of the flames.
My heart almost burst out of my chest. I ran towards the voice, and found my
flatmate crouched up against a wall, his eyes wild and bloodshot. He made to tell me
something, but a violent fit of coughing had him doubled over. He stretched out a
shaking hand. I seized it, and with considerable effort, managed to pull him to his feet.
The wail of an ambulance and a fire engine blared out outside.
“We’ve got you, Sean,” I said, heaving with relief. “We’ve got you.”

***

The next twenty-four hours went by in a blur.

Sean and I had been rushed to the nearest hospital the moment the ambulance
had arrived. He’d fallen into a kind of stupor, while I’d been a bundle of nerves all the
way to the hospital, my mind whirling round and round with all the what-ifs, my
speciality. What if help hadn’t come promptly and we hadn’t managed to escape from
the building? What if I hadn’t decided to bunk off training that evening? And what if
Sean didn’t make a complete recovery? Judging from the look of him, and I was no
doctor, it wasn’t as far-fetched as I would’ve hoped. His face had gone deathly white,
and as he lay there unmoving on the stretcher, I noticed the sparse, shallow breaths
lifting his chest.
I’d studied carbon monoxide poisoning at the station: it was a serious affair,
even quite possibly lethal. I didn’t dare go further that line of thought.
On the bright side, I was completely alright. While this didn’t come as a
surprise, it was a relief nonetheless. I’d been double and triple-checked at the hospital
and, to the doctors’ puzzlement, there was nothing whatsoever wrong with me, not so
much as a slight burn on the skin. They put this down to my having stayed so little
inside the building, to which I hastily agreed.
“Um, would you be so kind as to tell me Mr Otts’ ward number?” I asked the
burly nurse behind a desk. “Sean Otts. He was hospitalised yesterday along with me,
and I’d like to visit him.”
The nurse glared at me. “Are you close family of his?”
“Well, not really, but –”
“Then I fear that’s out of the question. The patient is in critical condition and in
no state to see anybody. Good evening.”
“Yes, but –”

141
 I shut up at the look on her face.
There was only one thing to do left.
I had to see Kal.

***
It was nearly midnight by the time I got to Kal’s front door, my heart beating fast. It had
been three weeks since I’d dashed away from here, a confused, sobbing mess. Three
weeks of no contact, of no messages or phone calls at all, just as I’d wanted.
Well, or thought I wanted. Yesterday’s events had shocked me into realising one
thing: I could die at any moment. What if I’d died in the fire? I wouldn’t have seen Kal
ever again, and maybe he would have mourned for some time, maybe not, and then he
would have gone on with his life, without ever realising how much he’d meant to me.
I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to regret not being brave or honest enough.
Perhaps I’d hurt him and talking to me was the last thing on his mind, and very possibly
nothing would come out of this.
But I had to try, at least.
I looked down at my Converse, mustering courage. I noticed that the rug under
my feet had been changed; its left corner had been arranged to resemble something half
chewed off, and it bore the caption: BEWARE, DANGEROUS DOG INSIDE.
I stifled a laugh. That had Kal written all over it. Then I pressed my finger to the
doorbell and rang.

142
 Chapter 27
Last & lost

The head that poked out of the door was blonde and female.
I stared at the tall girl in the dressing gown that stood peering at me on the
threshold.
“Oh, hi, Eden,” I said, trying not to sound as flustered as I felt. This girl
intimidated me for some reason. “Er… I was looking for, um, Kal. Is he in?”
An odd expression was crawling over her elegant face. I couldn’t make sense of
it. I wondered what she was doing here at Kal’s so late and evidently in her pyjamas,
and a stab of jealousy pierced me. Oh crap, were they – had they –
“Hello, Rae,” Eden said. “Yes, but he’s asleep, you see.”
“Asleep?” I repeated. I knew Kal usually stayed up late, even on weeknights.
“Yeah, he’s had a rough sort of day,” she said.
She stood quite still before me, one long hand resting on the door frame, the
other clutching the belt of her dressing gown. Her fingernails were badly chewed. She
was staring at me, and the strangeness of her expression intensified.
She was unnerving the hell out of me.
“Right,” I mumbled. “I’d better get going, then. I’ll swing by some other day.”
“No,” Eden said, suddenly. “I’ve been waiting.”
I turned around again to face her, confused.
“Waiting?”
She nodded, two eager little bobs of the head. She said, urgently: “Yes. Waiting
for you, all this time. I knew you’d come back.”
This was getting stranger and stranger. Was she drunk or something?
“I beg your pardon?” I said.
It was then that Eden lunged forward, knocking me over backwards. My head
thudded hard against the wall of the hallway, the one opposite Kal’s door, and I
remained sprawled on the cold floor for several seconds, dazed, struggling to process
what had happened.
I rubbed my head, groaning. “Eden,” I gasped. “Are you mental?”
What the hell was going on?
I tried to sit up, but Eden was on me a moment later, pinning me down with the
whole of her body. She was at least a head taller and many pounds heavier than me, and
writhed as I did, I was no match against her.
“Get off me!” I shrieked, kicking and shoving, but Eden tightened her grip on
me in a grimly satisfied manner. I felt my earlier uneasiness flaring into real panic. “Get
off! What have I ever done to you?”

143
 “You’re a demon, Rae.” Her face was so close to mine I could see the acne scars
on her chin. “A filthy, nasty demon. Even if he didn’t tell me, the lying jerk. But it
didn’t matter, in the end, I found out soon enough. And I’m an angel. It’s my job to hate
you.”
I flung my head back and screamed as loudly as my lungs permitted, hoping that
Kal heard me. That anybody heard.
“He won’t wake up,” said Eden. “You know he won’t go to sleep without those
stupid earplugs of his.”
Shit, she was right. I wouldn’t cry in front of her. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t. I cursed
myself for not seeing this coming before; of course it would have happened, sooner or
later. This was the very thing Kal had been fearing, the reason why he and I had gone
our separate ways.
“B-but we know each other, you and I,” I squawked. My blood was drumming a
mad beat in my temples. I knew what she wanted to do to me. This was it. This was the
end, but I kept on thrashing. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. “We’re friends. Sort of.
Right? We both love Kal.”
At the mention of his name, Eden went still. She smiled like a knife. She
lowered her head so that it was even closer to mine.
“Can I tell you a secret, Rae?”
I said nothing, shaking. Hating her.
“Maybe I would have let you go, you know. Even if you’re the scum of the
earth. I pride myself on being empathic enough; I’m going to be a doctor, after all,”
Eden said into my ear. “There’s just this little problem you brought up, you see: we both
love Kal. But he only loves you.”
Then I felt a strong current of sizzling energy flowing out of her and into me. I
tried to struggle against it, but even as I did, I could sense my limbs becoming heavier,
my eyelids flickering. My mind was becoming wonderfully blank … why was I even
struggling? … it would be so pleasant to curl up on this floor and let go and sleep …
Eden’s face swung in and out of my vision.
“You’re right,” Eden whispered, and the last remaining dregs of my
consciousness identified the feeling in her voice as regret. “If it hadn’t been for him, we
could’ve been friends.”
Then everything went black.

***

Kal was dreaming.

He was strolling along a beach, cool water lapping at his feet. Face lit up, Rae
skipped by his side … wait, no, not joy … her face contorted … she let out a piercing
scream … she threw herself at him, making him topple over … she was squashing him,
his stomach hurt …
With a jolt, Kal opened his eyes. Someone was squashing him flat, poking
something hard into his abdomen. He winced.
“Rae?”
He jerked into an abrupt sitting position, and the dark figure on top of him lost
her balance, and rolled over to a side. She let out a small grunt.
Kal knew that voice, and it wasn’t Rae’s.
“Eds.”

144
 He pulled his earplugs out, leaned over and switched on the lamp on his bedside
table. The bedroom flared into light, showing him a dishevelled Eden sitting on the edge
of his bed. She was picking at a purple scab on her thumb, not looking at him.
“What on earth,” Kal said, “were you doing on top of me, Eds? I thought you’d
gone to sleep?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Well, that much I can gather. Thanks very much for waking me up.”
An odd sensation had spread over Kal’s left hand. He supposed he’d fallen
asleep on top of it, and he shook it, trying to get the blood back into his fingers.
Then a thought struck him. “Eden, did you – was it Rae screaming, a while ago?
I thought I’d dreamed it, but, well, I don’t know. Did she – did she turn up?”
“Yes.” There was a definite note of defiance in Eden’s tone.
Kal felt his stomach plummet. He shoved the sheets off him and scrambled to
his feet.
“Why was she – did she say anything to you? Why was she screaming?” he
gabbled. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Eden gave a shrug. She tore another dark piece of skin off her thumb.
“Where is she, Eden?”
“She’s left.” Then Eden looked up, cheeks flushed. She gave Kal something that
wasn’t quite a smile. “I made her Forgotten.”
“You – what? What did you say?”
He’d heard her wrong. It couldn’t be.
A bitter kind of triumph shone in Eden’s eyes.
“She turned up half an hour or so ago, wanting to see you, but I didn’t let her in.
I attacked her, as you should’ve done months ago, mate.” Eden stoop up, so that she
faced Kal. The expression on her face gave way to anger. “How long has this been
going on, anyway? A month? Two?”
“Three months,” said Kal, in a soft, dangerous voice. It couldn’t be true. Of
course it wasn’t true. She was just scaring him, getting back at him for not having told
her. She’d always been proud and easily wounded, Eden. “Although that’s none of your
fucking business.”
“Actually, Kal, it is,” spat Eden. “You lied to me, implying she was nothing
more than a normal human girl, when she’s a disgusting demon. You lied to your family
at dinner the other day, telling them she was like us. I can’t believe it. You lied. To me.”
“Awfully sorry,” said Kal. “You’re right, I should’ve told you the truth
straightaway so that you could all gang up on her and cut her up in little pieces. Yeah.
Fuckssakes, Eden.”
He flopped down on the floor, heavily, to prevent himself from destroying
everything in sight. Maybe if he kept talking, she’d admit it. She’d tell him it was all a
sick joke, and then he’d go a couple of days without speaking to her, before finally
making it up. He was sure he could convince her into secrecy; it was a bother that she
knew about Rae, but well, it couldn’t be helped. Eden would keep her mouth shut,
though. He could trust her.
They were best friends, after all, weren’t they?
Keep speaking. Yeah.
“How did you found out, anyway?” he asked.
“Oh, there were a lot of rumours flying about. Word on the street was some
traitor angel was going round with some scum. I didn’t think about you and her
immediately, though. It took a lot more thinking,” Eden said. “But then I remembered
that there was something ever so odd about her, that night when you introduced me. And

145
I remembered you acting so weirdly. I put two and two together, and when I saw her
tonight, I knew.” She broke off, looking wistful. “You know, she had really nice hair, I’ll
give her that.”
Kal couldn’t stand it. His temper snapped. He shot to his feet, overturning a
chair in the process, and then he kicked it for good measure. His left hand, the one he’d
slept on, still felt weird.
“Don’t talk about her as if she were dead!”
Eden’s voice was maddeningly matter-of-fact.
“But she is, Kal. She’s as good as. But don’t worry, it’s not like you’ll miss her
or anything. In an hour or two you won’t even remember that you ever met her. You
won’t even remember she ever existed.” She looked at him. “Why the long face? It’s the
same thing you’ve been doing all your life yourself, isn’t it? Killing angels –”
Kal drew away from her. “I was an arsehole.”
“ – avenging your parents.”
He could have strangled her.
“Don’t you dare bring them up …”
Okay, his left hand felt really weird. He massaged it, scowling at her. Eden’s
eyes flicked towards it, and to Kal’s amazement, she let out a small wordless cry. She
slumped down on the floor, her back to the wall, tears running down her face.
“Eden – what –”
“I’m so sorry, Kal,” she whispered, from behind her hands. She was rocking
back and forth. “I – I don’t know what came over me, I swear I don’t. I was so angry …
so sad … I saw you were still sleeping … it was my chance. God, I – I think I’m going
mad.”
Kal stared at her.
“You meant to make me Forgotten too?”
She said nothing.
Right, this joke was getting a bit out of hand. He was seriously losing his
patience. But it was alright; he knew that as soon as she realised that she’d gone too far,
she’d spring up to her feet and rush up to him and yell: “Aha! Swallowed everything,
hook, line and sinker!” and they’d have a good laugh together, afterwards.
But then he saw the stricken look on Eden’s face and he knew he’d been lying to
himself all along.
“You meant to make me Forgotten. But I woke up … so you only got as far as
my hand.” Kal looked at her, numb with shock. “My hand. How will I be able to play
the guitar again?”
Silence. Back and forth, back and forth.
“You would’ve – killed me, Eden?”
Silence. Back and forth. She fiddled with her scab. Tear, tear, nibble, nibble.
Blood on her finger.
“But – I don’t – why? Why would you want to kill me? I don’t understand,” Kal
whispered.
Eden’s laughter was high-pitched. “Of course you don’t understand! You never
have, have you? You’ve never understood me in the least!”
“Eden –”
“You’ve never imagined for a single second what it feels like to be me, have
you? Standing by your side the whole time, good old Eden, like a faithful lapdog.” Her
breathing was heavy. “Having you parade your endless collection of girlfriends, one
after the other, flaunting them in my face. Good old Eden, one of the guys, with no

146
feelings of her own. You’ve never imagined it could hurt, did you? Watching you love
all those girls – never loving me?”
The heaving silence that followed was the ugliest thing he’d ever heard.
“Of course I love you, Eden,” Kal said, agonized. “How can you say that?”
A withering look from her.
“Oh, don’t be a fucking moron, Kal. You can never love me the way I love you,”
Eden said, and her voice was rising, shattering like glass, and the devastation in it would
have broken his heart, if it weren’t for the fact that she’d broken it already. “I love you
too much, Kal, and it hurts so.”
This jogged something from Kal’s memory.
“It was you,” he said, realisation dawning on him. “It was you the Westminster
statues warned me about … not Rae … shit, I’ve been so stupid…”
“Statues? What statues?”
“Nothing.”
Eden was now standing by him, but he couldn’t bear to look at her. Something
was building in his chest, something huge and howling.
“How could you do that, Kal?” Eden said. “How could you betray us like that?”
He made himself look at her. He saw her familiar face with the spatter of
freckles across her nose, the pale eyebrows she hated and would always pencil over
when she went out. Her hazel eyes. The way her mouth was asymmetrical, the bottom
lip plumper than the top one. He saw the face he’d loved for ten years, even if it was the
kind of love she didn’t want.
“You’re my best girl, Eden,” Kal whispered. “You’ve been the only woman I’ve
ever trusted. The only woman I’ve ever really cared about. Wasn’t that enough?” The
thing inside his chest burst and blinded him, and then he knew it was grief. “How could
you do this to me?”
He was grieving for the friend he’d lost. He was grieving for himself.
And, oh god, he was grieving, above all, for the redheaded girl who’d handed
him a glass of cheap whisky at a Central London pub and who’d turned his world
upside down.
Kal seized Eden by the shoulders, and he shook her so hard her teeth rattled.
“That’s right,” Eden said, calmly. “Hurt me. You want to hurt me, don’t you? For
making your hand useless from now on. For almost killing you. For killing the girl you
love. Even if her kind destroyed your parents. ”
Kal let go of her.
Rae, dead. Rae, dead? It was agony, this cruel thing inside him. He wouldn’t
stand a world without Rae. He didn’t want a world where he didn’t remember her,
where she wasn’t even a delicate memory that he could pick apart in his mind and that
would brighten his darkest of days.
“No,” Kal said, trembling. “I don’t want to hurt you. I forgive you. Just as I
forgive her kind for the death of my parents. I’m done with hating, I’m so done.”
He stalked out of his bedroom and into the corridor.
“You forgive me?” breathed Eden, trooping behind him.
“I do,” said Kal. “But please leave now. And don’t come back.”
Eden fidgeted by the door. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a thread of a voice.
Kal turned his back on her so that he didn’t have to watch the closest friend he’d
ever had walk out of his life.

147
 Chapter 28
Oblivion

The worst day of my life began with me running late for training.
It was already quarter to nine in the morning, and Coach Jenks didn’t take kindly
to latecomers. I shoved the last of my breakfast toast into my mouth and scooted down a
flight of steps and into the Tube station. A blast of warm air swirled around me. I
jammed my ticket into the machine, panicking about how on earth I was going to
shorten a forty-minute journey into a ten-minute one, when a ringing sound jerked me
out of my thoughts.
The machine whirred, paused for a second and spat my ticket right out.
I goggled at it. Then I picked it up from the floor and inserted it into the machine
once more, more carefully this time. A clang, and my ticket fluttered out again.
This wasn’t happening.
Swearing under my breath, I walked towards the ticket seller behind the glass
stall. I tapped on it. The man looked up from his phone, snapping gum. With a mystified
frown, he glanced around, before giving a shrug and returning to Candy Crush.
“Excuse me,” I said. I tried to ignore the icy spike of fear that prodded at me. “I
think there’s a problem with my ticket, sir, even though I only bought it last week; the
machine won’t accept it for some reason.”
The ticket seller’s gaze finally settled on me, as if it cost him a great effort to do
so.
“Oh,” he said, vaguely. “Yes.”
Then a woman in a suit high-heeled her way around, and planted herself in front
of me. The ticket seller’s attention slid off me.
“Oh, fuck it,” I said, fuming.
I dashed up the steps into the street again. I was going to have to walk all the
way to the station, like it or not, as I was a bit short on cash this month and didn’t want
to spend it on a taxi. To make matters worse, it was pouring with rain. By the time I got
to the station thirty minutes later, sweating under my coat, I was completely drenched. I
hurried through the gates and into the courtyard. I could see my fellow trainees, and
there he was, Coach Jenks, hunched up under the rain, wearing huge yellow boots. He’d
turn around any minute now, and roar at me.
But he continued to stand where he was, hands on hips, glaring up at a figure
clambering up a ladder. He barked out: “Wilson! You call that a quick climb? I’ve seen
five-year-olds do it better!”
“It’s raining, sir!” Wilson protested. “I keep slipping!”
Jenks glowered. “I don’t care if a bloody hurricane comes! You carry on!”

148
 Neither of them glanced at me as I scrambled past. I didn’t know whether or not
to be glad of this. Oh, there was my squad, finally, clustered in our usual spot by the
tree. I staggered to a stop beside them, panting.
“Hey, guys,” I said. “You can’t imagine how hard it was to get here, I swear, it
was like a nightmare or something.”
None of them looked at me. This made me remember something. It was the
exact same situation I had to put up with every day at school, when I was a teenager. I’d
walk into the classroom each morning and say hello to no-one in particular, to find no-
one greeted me back. The boys would continue jostling each other, laughing, the girls
rose their eyebrows and chattered on. I was invisible. A nobody.
This was the same, only, if possible, a hundred times worse.
“Oi,” yelled Janet to a blond guy beside her, completely oblivious to my
presence. “I’m off to the toilet, I’ll be back in a mo, okay? You lot go on.”
This wasn’t happening.
I stepped to a side, blocking Janet’s path. Wild panic now flooded through my
body. This couldn’t be happening. What had gone on the other night hadn’t been such a
big deal. Yes, Eden had gone mental and she’d thrown me across the floor, and yes, I’d
stirred out of that strange stupor an hour later to find myself slumped down on a bench
in Hyde Park, but then I’d sleepwalked, as a child. Maybe it was just coming back now.
And yes, I’d felt woozy and ill for the rest of the night, but who wouldn’t, when I’d
bumped my head hard against a wall?
“Janet,” I urged. My voice was shaking so hard I could hardly speak. My knees
buckled, and I had to lean against a tree to prevent myself from collapsing. “Janet, can
you hear me? Do you remember who I am?”
Janet started and stopped in her tracks. Her dark ponytail bobbed from side to
side, and there was a glossy layer of sweat covering her face. She blinked at me.
“Hello,” she said, in a carefully polite voice. “Sorry, I have a terrible memory for
faces. And for names. You must think I’m so rude.” She gave a nervous giggle. “You are
one of the new girls of Squad Three, though, aren’t you?”
The dread that settled in me at that moment was like nothing I’d ever felt before.
I felt a sob erupting in my throat, and I turned around so she wouldn’t see, even though I
knew her attention would slip off me in seconds.
I’d turned into a ghost. Into the ghost they’d always claimed I was. I wouldn’t
see my family again. I wouldn’t ever graduate into a fully functional firefighter, or hug
my lovely Cerberus to my chest. I wouldn’t know what it was like to run the marathon
I’d signed up for, or climb Everest, or go bungee-jumping, or – or –
I wouldn’t see Kal again.
I wanted to tell him that I was sorry. I wanted to tell him that I missed him so
much. That he’d set my world on fire, and I wasn’t ready for him to leave it. I wanted to
tell him that I heard him in the birds that soared high above my window each morning,
in buskers’ eyes as they threaded gentle songs into the air. I heard him in the waters of
the river and in the laughter across the streets. I heard him in my dreams at night, and
each time I prayed he’d come back.
But he never did.
“No, not a girl from Squad Three,” I told Janet, but she wasn’t listening. Not any
longer. “I was your friend.”

***

149
The hospital reception area was packed with people. There was a pungent smell in the
air, an unpleasant mixture of disinfectant and sickness. I swerved around the reception
desk, resisting the urge to try to speak to the woman behind it. I squashed my feeble
hopes down.
This was happening. Bearing any hope would get me nowhere.
I could, however, say goodbye to Sean, even if he wouldn’t be able to notice my
presence for longer than ten seconds. I thought it was the least I could do. Even with
everything that had gone on in the last couple of days, there had been a niggling feeling
at the back of my mind. I worried that he hadn’t recovered. Maybe he’d even died. And
perhaps it had all been my fault.
I knew that, in theory, I had about three days before I Forgot myself. I’d forced
myself to eat a humongous lunch today, realising it wouldn’t be long before I stopped
eating and drinking. Or before I turned mad with pain, or did away with myself. I didn’t
know which of these options was more horrible. I shuddered, trying to cram these
thoughts out of my mind. Before any of this happened, I hoped to have made up with
Sean. Then, at least, I would be at peace.
And then there was Eden. The vindictive part of me wanted to hurt her more
than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. The other part of me whispered to let go. It
said that I’d killed dozens of angels myself. How many families had I destroyed? How
many people’s lives had I knowingly wrecked? Maybe this way we were even.
I vowed to myself I’d never hurt anyone again, human or angel.
I wandered around the hospital, feeling at a loss. I didn’t know Sean’s ward
number. I had nobody to ask, as they’d ignore me. Where to start looking? But then I
remembered I had all the time in the world. I had nothing with which to fill my hours
anymore. Well, or no time at all. It was all a matter of perspective. I set out to look for
Sean floor after floor, room after room. It was a most peculiar feeling, to be able to walk
around a whole hospital unobserved. There were no burly nurses demanding that what
on did I think I was doing, young lady, I wasn’t close family, was I?
Room 121. A middle-aged woman was propped up in the bed blowing her nose.
Wrong room.
Room 123. I poked my head in. A boy in his late teens slumped on his back,
staring at the ceiling.
Wrong room.
Room 132. A flash of long chestnut curls.
Oh, for Hell’s sake.
But then the brunette nurse moved to a side, revealing the young man with a
crew cut and an untrimmed beard that lay on the bed.
It was him.
I slunk into the room, unsteady with relief. I stood beside the nurse with the long
glossy curls, who was talking quietly to Sean about something I didn’t quite register.
She didn’t glance at me, which still stung. I couldn’t get used to it. I scanned Sean’s
face. He was deathly pale, and he looked like he’d aged ten years since I’d last seen
him. His eyes were set deep in their sockets, and there was a gaunt air about his face
that hadn’t been present before.
But he was alive, and awake, and that meant I could finally forgive myself.
Gone was the resentment and dislike I’d harboured against him for years. I’d been so
childish. Nobody was all evil, or all good ⎯ things were much messier than that.
Then Sean’s gaze locked with mine.
I let out a little gasp of surprise. The world tilted under my feet.
Did he – oh, did he –

150
 His brows contracted into a frown as our eyes took in each other. A long,
puzzled pause. I felt the walls of the room close in around me; the hope in my chest was
choking me. And then –
And then Sean’s whole face transformed. He opened his mouth and whispered
my name.
“Rae.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Rae Carrows,” Sean whispered, in the weakest voice I’d ever heard him use.
“What are you doing here?”
I stumbled closer to him, my heart wild in my chest. I stared down at his blue
hospital gown and at the crumpled notebook spread over his lap. There was a pen
clutched between his fingers, and its plastic cap was chewed. I could see the little teeth
marks on it. It couldn’t be real, this moment. I couldn’t speak. Sean was still looking at
me, so I drew in a rattling breath, and tried to say something.
“I came to see you.” My voice was rusty. “I wanted to see how you were doing.
Are you – are you okay?”
A feeble smile. “I’ve had better days. I’m doing loads better than what everyone
here expected, though. I know they didn’t expect me to pull through, even if they don’t
actually say so. Eh, Nurse?”
The brunette nurse shook her head, smiling. “Now, don’t you get all het up, Mr
Otts. Lay back and relax. You’ve still got a long way to go.”
“Yeah,” said Sean, and when he looked up at me again, something in his eyes
had changed. “I remember, Rae.”
I remember. It was the most beautiful word anyone had said to me in my entire
life.
“I remember what you did for me. What you risked,” said Sean. He ran his
tongue over his dry lips. The chewed-off blue pen was shaking badly between his
fingers. “I can’t ever thank you enough. I don’t think I’ll ever –” he broke off,
searching for the right, precise word. The word that would change everything. “ –
forget.”
As he spoke, I felt the shift in the air around us. I felt a shiver run down my back
and my blood thickened and my breath blew warm again and the shadows pooled at my
feet as they once had. I felt the cogs of the world halt. Creak. Then, as surely as the
night would follow the day, they started again, and when they did, nothing would ever
be the same.
I was stunned to the point of incoherence. “But your bookshop – all your books
– they’re, oh, Sean –”
“It’s alright, Rae. It was getting a bit of a drag, running the bookshop, anyway.
This way I’ll have more time to focus on my thesis. We managed to make it out alive,
all thanks to you, and that’s all that matters. I promise I won’t nag you about washing up
at home anymore. Hey, don’t cry.”
The nurse was peering at me, shocked to find me there all of a sudden.
“Whatever are you doing here, miss?”
“It’s okay,” said Sean. “I want her to stay, Nurse.”
She smoothed down her scrubs, looking from me to him. Her expression
softened. “Well. I suppose ten minutes won’t hurt. I bet your girl has been dying to see
you.”
“Oh – we’re not – I’m not, er,” I stuttered.

151
 “She’s not my girl,” said Sean. He stretched out a hand, and I took it,
uncertainly. He squeezed it for a moment, and by the time he’d let go, he was grinning.
“She’s my friend. And the best goddamned firefighter I ever came across.”

152
 Chapter 29
Ever after

The man who sat slumped against my front door was asleep. He was wearing a bright
blue Donald Duck scarf, his shoulders were bowed, and his head lolled forward, hiding
his face.
But I didn’t need to look at his face to know who he was. I would have known
him among a million people. Across time and space. He was my end, and my beginning,
and all the things between them.
I kneeled down in front of him, my heart thumping.
“Kal,” I whispered, unsure what to do.
Should I just shake him awake? And what on earth was he doing here?
I raised a hand and touched his shoulder. A second later, he stirred and let out a
drowsy grunt. He lifted his head and blinked at me. I blinked back at him, my insides
icy with renewed terror. What if he didn’t remember me?
But then Kal straightened against the door.
He said, in a voice thickened with sleep and wonder: “Rae. Oh, Rae, Rae, Rae.
Thank Gods. I’ve been praying and praying.”
He dashed forward, making the box on his lap topple over, and pulled me into a
hug so tight it hurt. But I didn’t let go, and neither did he. I rested my chin on his coat-
covered shoulder and breathed into him, all the glorious kalness of him. When we broke
apart, we were both breathless.
“Kal,” I mumbled. “You never pray.”
Kal smiled. It made my heart leap into my throat.
“Well, there’s always a first time for everything, darling,” he said. “I’ve been
praying to whichever damned gods could be bothered to listen. To selfish gods, and to
benevolent ones. To the ones I despise, and the ones who despise me. I didn’t give a
flying fuck. I just wanted you back. Well, back, and whole, and safe, and sound.”
“And I am,” I said, trying to sound chirpy, but halfway through my voice
faltered. I’d been through too much in too short a time. “Back, whole, safe, sound.”
He cupped my face in his hands. I felt myself turn liquid at his touch.
“And since I can see you and know perfectly well who you are, I guess the curse
hasn’t worked at all.”
“My flatmate,” I said, mind still reeling. “I helped him, in a fire, the other day.
Do you think that had something to do with it?”
Kal appraised me for a moment. “You did? Rae, you’re marvellous. I always
knew you were made of fine stuff. And yeah, you can rest assured it had something to
do with it. Spontaneous kindness to a human? Check. Creation of a bond between you?

153
Check. He’s indebted to you, Rae. How could he ever forget you? The curse dissolved,
of course.”
I sat cross-legged on the cold floor, digesting this.
“It would’ve been the death of me, too, that curse,” Kal whispered. “I’ve been
worried sick, Rae, looking for you all over London. Wondering where on earth you
could be.”
I hesitated. “Kal, your friend Eden – she –”
Kal closed his eyes. I saw a spasm of pain tremble across his face, followed by a
flash of anger.
“I know. I know what happened. Eden told me herself. She tried to attack me
too, as a matter of fact.” He lifted his left hand for me to see. It was trembling, and there
was something odd about it. “I’m so, so sorry, Rae. I’m sorry that you had to go through
that, that you were nearly Forgotten. It was all my fault.”
How could he blame himself?
“It wasn’t, of course it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was,” Kal said, grimly. “I should’ve known that Eden would smell a rat
sooner or later. I was warned about it, for goodness’ sake. And all the while,” – he
shook his head, lowered his eyes – “all the while I thought it was you who wasn’t to be
trusted. How can I have been so thick?”
I stared at him. “Me?”
Kal squirmed, gazing down at his boots. A pale fleck of chewing gum had stuck
to the right sole.
“Um, yes. Sorry. Shit, I don’t know why I said that.” He groaned. “Of course I
trust you. Forget I said anything.”
I let out a laugh, marvelling at our stupidity. We’d been so scared.
“It’s okay, Kal. Actually, there were moments when I thought I couldn’t trust
you,” I said. “And sometimes – sometimes,” Was I going to say this? I had to say this,
rip it out of me, this dark thing that lived inside me and didn’t let me sleep. My own
private demon. I made myself say it. “Sometimes I thought I couldn’t trust myself.”
Kal only looked at me. The lightbulb overhead flickered.
“I’ve been terrified, Kal,” I said. “Terrified that my true nature might slip up and
cause me to harm you. I’ve been watching myself so carefully. I don’t know what I’d do
if I ever hurt you.”
“Easy. You’d never hurt me. Simple as that,” said Kal. “I know it in my bones.”
He picked up the box from the floor. “Hey, I got something for you. I know
you’re not big on chocolates, so I got you cheese. Finest Italian selection.”
“I love it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. We’ll have to try it now for dinner.”
I paused. “Kal?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. I felt lighter than I’d felt in weeks, no, years. “I’m sorry
I broke us up. I wanted to protect us, but now I realise I was wrong. I can’t live without
you. I don’t want to live without you. We’re – we’re,” I hoped he didn’t think I was
being overdramatic, but the words would have spilt out of me anyway, “We’re perfect
together.”
“We are,” said Kal, and my heart lifted. “It’s like those weirdo beings said at the
park. Good and evil, they balance each other out. You can’t have one without the other.”
There was so much tenderness in his face I couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t care if it’s us
against the world, Rae. I don’t care if I’m the biggest filthiest traitor that there ever was.
We’ll manage. We can move abroad, start over. Lie low for a while.”

154
 I laughed, giddy with joy. “Yes! Yes.” I surveyed the cheese box, and a doubt
sprung up in my mind. “Er, Kal. You didn’t –?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t nick it, if that’s what you mean. Bought that one for
you, another one for my family. I’m a reformed man now.” He looked wry as he
grinned. “It’s the least I can do to win you back.”
The lightbulb on the ceiling flickered once more. It sputtered, then went out,
plunging the hall into darkness.
“Crap. I’ve gone blind, darling,” muttered Kal.
I smiled, my demon sight instantly adjusted to the blackness. I touched Kal’s lips
with a finger.
“You needn’t win me back,” I said, in the dark. “I was always yours.”
And then I knew that if I stayed by his side, everything would be all right.

155
Kal’s ten favourite things about Rae (in no particular order)

1. She’s the best runner I’ve ever come across. Needless to say that she kicked my arse
in the ten-mile race I signed up us both for. She finished almost an hour before me. And
she had the unbelievable cheek to go for another jog that same afternoon, claiming that
she needed to stretch her legs a bit, the morning’s run had been a bit light, hadn’t it? I
collapsed on the sofa and could hardly move for days afterwards.

2. Her hair always smells so freaking good.

3. That moment when she snakes her arms around my neck and clings onto me like an
overgrown baby koala.

4. The way her face lights up when she sees me.

5. She loves animals but can’t stand even the teensiest of insects. That, in my humble
opinion, doesn’t make much sense. Last week she was staying over at mine and I was
on the brink of dozing off when she started to scream. I nearly had a heart attack. She
said that she’d heard “a horrible sort of rustling” and she turned on the lamp. And there
it was, on the ceiling, this poor spider, the most minuscule you’ve seen in your entire
life. I pulled her back to sleep, of course, hugely relieved. But she shook me off and
marched straight out of my bedroom, shuddering. She spent the rest of the night on the
sofa. Women. Can’t make sense of them.

6. The fact that she always sees the best in everyone.

7. I love the colour of her eyes, not quite green but not quite hazel either nor really grey.

8. She can’t cook for toffee. Her scrambled eggs taste of spectacularly nothing and her
salads resemble rabbit food. It’s quite impressive actually.

9. She’s true to herself, even when she’s scared.

10. The way she mucks about to the music if she thinks nobody’s watching. She pouts
and makes faces and wiggles her bum and does weird things with her feet. Then I peek
into the room, grinning, and she invariably shrieks and flings a cushion at me.

If I hadn’t met her, I would have missed her for a lifetime without quite knowing what
the ache in my heart meant.

156
 Chapter 30
Full circle

If she were to be honest, people-watching wasn’t a patch on shower-screaming.

But as she was surrounded by clients and colleagues alike, Isabella Russo, head
waitress at the Ristorante Michelangelo in Florence, had the mighty suspicion it
wouldn’t be a good idea to demonstrate her shower-screaming talents right now. So she
was left with people-watching, she supposed. It was a pleasing little hobby, after all. It
kindled the frustrated psychologist within her.
Isabella stood at the entrance of the restaurant, nodding at newcomers and
ushering them inside, her polished smile perfectly in place. Between the arrival of one
client and the next, she watched people, vulture-like. A rowdy crowd of friends, getting
drunk on red wine and ravioli. On the far corner, two nervous teenage girls fiddled with
their napkins. A couple in their thirties, chatting right in front of her.
Isabella couldn’t have told you why for the life of her, but she couldn’t drag her
eyes away from them.
The woman had jaw-length red hair, bright as a sundown. She was wolfing down
a platter of cheese, a slab after the other, cheeks bulging. Every few seconds her hands
would reach up to her head, and ruffle it, a look of amused surprise on her face, as if she
wasn’t used to its shortness.
The man, if she wasn’t mistaken, was sipping at a cappuccino. A cappuccino, for
lord’s sake! Cappuccinos were to be drunk at breakfast, not at flipping two o’clock in
the afternoon. These foreigners. The waitress shook her head in disgust, and her gaze
slid to the man’s left hand, which lay limp on the table. She paused, a feeling of unease
creeping over her. There was something odd about that hand. Something that screamed
wrong. It made her chest clench and her eyes water.
Isabella dropped her eyes. Only then did she notice the baby, curled up against
the man’s chest. He was silent, his small chest rising and falling in sleep. His hair was
very black. She felt herself automatically beaming. She loved children. She had none of
her own, but she’d babysit her sister’s whenever she could.
The child looked so peaceful, wrapped up in his blankets … so positively
angelic …
The redheaded woman leaned to a side and planted a kiss on the child’s
forehead, smiling as though she couldn’t help her happiness from brimming out of her.
Then the child opened his eyes.
Isabella gasped.
He was looking straight back at her, this baby with the blue-black hair and such
placid gentleness cooped up in his little face. He couldn’t have been older than a

157
handful of months. But his eyes … his eyes were old. They held winter, and sorrows,
and time, and evil.
Isabella stumbled backwards, her heart beating fast. She leaned against a wall
and stared down at her high heels. She didn’t dare look at the couple with the baby
again, even though she told herself it was her migraine again that had made her imagine
things. That was all.
She was being ridiculous, but for a moment she’d thought the infant looked like
an angel, or maybe – maybe, yes, demonic, that was the word. And yet perhaps both, at
the same time, if that made any sense. She couldn’t quite make up her mind.
She wouldn’t have guessed, but she was right about everything.

158
Afterword: behind the scenes

Fabulous fantasy writer Neil Gaiman said that writing is like walking down a street
naked. And he couldn’t have put it better. There are so many pieces of myself scattered
around this novel. Baring my most vulnerable side while I was writing this was
terrifying. It was ugly, sometimes, as I had to unearth memories best left forgotten. It
was also the most fun thing I’d ever done in my twenty-three years of life. Actually, the
whole thing started with Kal (he’d be even bigger-headed if he knew!). It was the
summer of 2022 and I was on the brink of finishing my Veterinarian Medicine degree
when I was told that I’d failed my last assignment and wouldn’t be able to graduate until
the following September. It was a blow, as you might expect.
That same evening, I tried to distract myself by listening to rock-pop music,
which I’ve always loved. Wouldn’t it be amazing to command audiences with your
voice alone? Then I was struck by an idea. What if I wrote about a cocky young man
dressed in black leather who made stages shake? However, I also wanted to take a stand
against bullying, be it at school or at the workplace or wherever. Just like Rae, I was
badly bullied as a teenager, and I struggled for years before I managed to get over it. I
used all my pain, the bitterness, all the great gaping loneliness as fuel for writing this,
hoping it would resonate with you. So this book is for anyone who was ever mocked for
being Different. Don’t doubt yourself – the problem is theirs, never yours. You’re brave.
You’re beautiful. Fight back. Hold on.

Claudine
May 2023

159
160