She somehow managed not to scream, though every instinct told her to; it seemed to take forever, but then she was landing in a strong pair of arms that cushioned her, expertly adjusted her weight, and settled her on her feet as neatly as if she’d just floated to a graceful stop. ‘Shane!’ Michael said. ‘Jump!’

‘I hate this,’ Shane said. When Oliver tried to reach for him, he held out his hand in a direct refusal. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready,’ Michael said.

Shane jumped. Michael caught him, and tossed him onto his feet as neatly as if it was a regular acrobatic act. Cirque du Soleil, only with vampires, Claire thought. Then again, how could anyone be sure those bouncy people weren’t vampires already?

Pete wasn’t that self-sufficient; he took advantage of Oliver’s reach to lower him down, and seemed grateful to be on the stone floor of the run-off tunnel once he was safely landed. It was mostly dry, Claire realised; a thin, dark trickle of moisture ran down the centre, but it had been parched recently in Cambridge, unseasonably so. At least they didn’t have to worry about keeping their heads above water.

Oliver jumped, and Michael stepped aside to give Oliver space to land; as with all vamps, he did it gracefully and effortlessly.

Above, Jesse’s gun suddenly let loose with a murderous volley of shots, all growing louder and louder. And it was covered up by a much louder, more sustained roar of returning fire. ‘She’s coming,’ Oliver said from where he was still supporting Myrnin, who was giving them a lopsided, loony grin. ‘Be ready!’

Even with the warning, they weren’t, and Michael had to scramble to get out of the way as Jesse dropped suddenly down the hole, red braid twisting and waving in the air as she plummeted. She was out of breath, the tip of the assault rifle’s barrel was hot and smoking, and she was smiling as if she was having the best possible day of her life as she landed like she had shock absorbers for legs, rising smoothly back up to an unruffled, relaxed stand. ‘Time to go, children,’ she said. ‘Now.’

‘This way,’ Oliver said, and strode off in his chosen direction. There wasn’t much to do but follow. He dragged the still-reeling Myrnin with him. Jesse let them all go first; she stood staring up at the hole, ready to shoot any face that appeared overhead, but it seemed as if for the moment, their opponents were either baffled, or cautious, or both.

She was right behind Claire as they ran down the tunnel. No way could they run vampire speed, burdened by humans, but Jesse seemed to have practice in regulating her speed to an easy cruise; she didn’t overtake Claire even when Claire had to slow down to avoid the dimly seen debris that littered the run-off tunnel. The bones of a large dog tried to trip her up once, and Jesse’s pale, strong left hand grabbed her arm to steady her. ‘Careful,’ Jesse said. She sounded amused. ‘Wouldn’t want you to break a leg when you’re almost safe.’