Fatboy did a shambling run over to Pizza Face. ‘So what’re we gonna do, dude?’ He waved his pole.

‘Do it just do it like I told you, right?’ Pizza Face shoved him on the shoulder. ‘Now get back over there, y’know, we’re gonna be like a pincer action.’

‘Oh yeah, yeah,’ Fatboy giggled. ‘Ni’th.’

I took a breath, concentrated. Pizza Face leapt forward, swinging his bat two-handed. I ducked and it swished over my head. Fatboy swiped low on my other side and I jumped the pole like a skipping rope, my ankles jarring as I landed on the rain-starved grass.

‘Hey, thi’th ith fun, man,’ he giggled.

Shit. I needed my own weapon. Glamour? I had to get within touching distance for that to work, so it was a nonstarter. But a wooden staff would do, and thanks to Pizza Face, there were plenty lying under the old tree; I just needed to get to one.

Fatboy jabbed his pole at me like a spear and as I swivelled out the way Pizza Face’s bat caught me a thudding blow on my shoulder. Pain shot down my arm and I screamed, throwing myself back into a roll that took me away from them. I came up in a crouch, my left arm hanging uselessly at my side.

Fear clamped round my chest—the power behind that blow didn’t feel human—and he’d definitely broken something.

‘Get her other arm, dude,’ Pizza Face shouted.

Fatboy moved towards me, shockingly fast, and jabbed again. I jerked to the side, but too slow. His pole ripped through my sleeve and stabbed into my injured arm. I screamed again, then I almost cried in relief—Fatboy’s pole was one of the iron garden railings—and the pain in my arm started to mute as the touch of the iron numbed my flesh.

‘Not that one, man, the other one!’

Fatboy raised the iron pole, started to bring it down like an axe. I scrambled back, hoping the numb feeling would last—and the bar thumped the grass in front of me.

‘Watch her head,’ Pizza Face yelled. ‘I tole yer, it’s better when they’re screaming. Go for the arms and legs so the freak can’t run away!’

I staggered up, breath heaving.

Pizza Face tossed the bat in the air, caught it. ‘Come to me, pussy, pussy,’ he crooned, then he punched Fatboy on the arm, almost knocking him over. ‘Get it, dude? The freak’s got eyes like a cat, so I called her a pussy!’

Fatboy giggled again. ‘Yeah, man, good one! The fweak’th like a little puthy cat!’

They were high or hyped up on something, and it was making them faster and stronger—the odds weren’t looking good and I needed to even them up, and for that I needed blood, and enough time to activate my Alter Vamp spell. Blood was no problem; it was dripping down my arm from where Fatboy had stabbed me with the railing. So that just left the time part then.

They were young. They were male.

I held up my good hand, palm out, ‘Hold it,’ I shouted, standing straighter, ‘I surrender, okay?’

Fatboy giggled. ‘Yeah, thurrender! Okay!’

‘Shut up dude,’ Pizza Face growled, ‘we don’t want the freak to surrender, no way. We want to fuck her.’

‘And that’s just what I’m interested in, boys.’ I tried a seductive smile, only it felt more like a pain-filled grimace. ‘You’ve heard about us faeries and sex, haven’t you? Like how hot we are? How much we want it, like all the time?’

Fatboy was nodding, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

Pizza Face slapped the bat into his hand. ‘Keep talking, freak.’

I lowered my hand, slipped the button on my jacket and pulled it open. ‘See we can all have a good time,’ I shucked the jacket off my shoulder, quickly snatching my good arm out of it, leaving me naked from the waist up. ‘No need to beat me up first.’

Fatboy’s mouth hung open, his eyes fixed on my chest.

Pizza Face licked his lips. ‘This a trick or something?’

‘Trick?’ I dragged the jacket off my injured arm, trying not to wince. ‘Why would I trick you when we all want the same thing?’ Taking a deep breath, I expanded my chest, did a little shimmy. ‘Anyway, big boy.’ I jiggled my foot at him, showing off my heels, then stood legs further apart, bracing myself. ‘I mean, it’s not like I’m going to get very far if I run away from you, is it?’

Pizza Face nodded. ‘You ain’t wrong there, freak.’ He beckoned with his finger. ‘Come ’ere, then, if you want it so much.’

‘Nuh-uh.’ I stroked my fingers down my cleavage, let my hand fall on the ties that kept my skirt on. ‘Don’t be so impatient. ’ The blood trickling down my injured arm had reached my elbow. ‘Don’t you want to see the rest?’

‘Ye’th, more!’ Fatboy grinned, dropping his railing.

I tugged at the ties and let the wrap-around skirt drop to the floor. The blood was meandering down my forearm and I was down to black briefs and my shoes. Damn. I should’ve worn more clothes. They were running out as fast as my time was. I shook my arm, trying to get the blood to run faster.

‘Cool tattoo, freak. Got any more?’ Pizza Face took a step towards me.

The blood trailed another few of inches. C’mon, just a couple more.

‘Hang on in there, big boy.’ I forced a grin. ‘You haven’t seen the best bit yet.’

‘Looks good enough to me,’ Pizza Boy said, breathing fast.

‘Me too,’ squeaked Fatboy.

Glamour would distract them, gain me a few more seconds, even if I wasn’t going to sic them with it. I breathed in, focused, and my skin glowed, misting golden light around me.

‘Magic,’ Fatboy yelled, waving his arms, ‘the fweak’th doing magic!’

The blood snaked over my wrist.

‘No magic tricks, freak,’ Pizza Face ordered. He lifted his bat.

Honeysuckle scented the air. Blood trickled into my palm.

‘Stoppit!’ Pizza Face leapt at me.

I threw myself to the side and landed hard on my knees, frantically rubbing the blood across my hip into the spell-tattoo. An arm clamped round my waist and yanked me down onto my back. I screamed as the pain exploded in my shoulder breaking my hold on the Glamour. Why wasn’t the spell working?

Pizza Face stared down at me, his pupils tiny pinpricks in his muddy brown eyes, and desperation flooded through me as I ground my hand into the tattoo. Where was my Alter Vamp? Pizza Face grinned, flashing sharp fangs. Shock froze me. What the fuck washe? He sniggered open-mouthed, curry-breath hitting in my face. I jack-knifed my legs up—

His fist connected with my jaw, and I fell into the dark.

I t was safe in the dark, still and quiet and calm ...curry, and the coppery taste of blood in my mouth ... no one could find me ...hands tugging at my hair ... nothing hurt in the dark, only the hunger ...pain sharp at my throat ... and I wasn’t hungry, not yet, not now ...pain pricking at my breasts ... the darkness was safe.

I sank back down, into the cold depths.

‘Hey. man,’ a voice whined, ‘I can’t do it like thi’th.’

My eyes snapped open and I froze. Fatboy was kneeling almost astride my head, gripping my scalp. I clamped my mouth shut to stop from screaming.

‘Fucking wait then, dude,’ Pizza Face snarled. ‘I told you, I’m not sticking my nose up your shitty arse.’

I couldn’t move my head, but I could just make out Pizza Face crouching between my thighs. Instinct made me clamp my legs together, but his body got in the way.

‘Hello, freakoid.’ Pizza Face leered up at me. ‘We started without you. You can start screaming now if you want.’ He grinned, showing bloodstained fangs, and swiped his tongue over his lips. ‘Think I’m gonna like this blood-suckin’ business. You taste great, y’know, sorta sweet, like honey. I told yer we was gonna have some fun, didn’t I?’

Fatboy giggled above me. ‘Ye’th, man!’

Bastards. I’d show them fun.

They’d left my arms free. My left shoulder was a mass of hurt—the numbness from the iron had worn off—but my right arm still worked okay. I punched Pizza Face in the mouth and his head jerked back, his fangs scraping my knuckles. Yanking my head from Fatboy’s grip, I reared back and jammed my skull into his groin and he squealed, short and high. Pain shot through my shoulder, but I blocked it. Pizza Face swayed unnaturally upright and I brought my knees up tight to my chest as he lunged over me, sniggering. I screamed and kicked out, stamping both metal-heeled shoes into his stomach and shoving him up and away. He was still sniggering as he thudded to the ground, one shoe still impaled in the soft flesh just under his ribs.