But Ramone shook his head. ‘Takapa don’t do deals, Ciss. Even if he did, we don’t trade with no howlers.’ He turned to Jasmine. ‘Here’s the deal. Rico needs them bandages changin’, it’s time he got his ass around to Woollard’s place. Jasmine, baby, you’ll take him in the morning, huh?’

Jasmine nodded. ‘Sure.’

Ramone turned back to Tom and Kate. ‘Woollard used to be a doctor once,’ he explained. ‘He helps us out. We help him out. And he knows about the ’wolves and shit, even treats some of their victims. Maybe he knows the dude you came here to find. Jasmine, take them with you, baby?’

Jasmine was about to open her mouth as if to argue when several loud thumps at the door rumbled through the room. Jasmine took a couple of nimble steps back in alarm. Rico hit the mute on the TV then jumped for cover behind one of the couches. The others held themselves still as statues except for Polar, who rose automatically – ready to take a snap of their mystery visitors.

Ramone blocked his way. ‘Sit down. You think that’s the mailman out there or something? It’s almost four a.m.’

Kate edged closer to Tom. He felt her icy fingers coil into his own, and squeezed her hand tightly.

There were two more loud knocks, then nothing. The silence continued for what must have been a full minute. People began to breathe again.

Then, with a hideous splintering noise, the front door was smashed in.

The room erupted into movement as people scrabbled up from the floor or their couches, swearing and yelling. Tom and Kate backed away involuntarily, knocking against one of the lamps.

Ramone turned to Jasmine. ‘Get the gun,’ he told her, but she was already running for the other room. He pulled a switchblade from his jacket pocket just as a giant in biker’s leathers burst into their hideout, wielding a sledgehammer. He had a pale, dangerous-looking face. His hair was a greasy crown of thick blond spikes. His heavy-lidded grey eyes sparked with reckless aggression, and his teeth were bared in a wild grin. Scores of tiny zits festered in the chapped, red skin around his mouth.

‘Hey, kids!’ The man gave a crazed laugh. ‘Ain’tcha got no milk and cookies for Swagger?’

Before anyone could react, Swagger brought the hammer’s heavy wooden handle up under Ramone’s chin. There was a loud crack and the boy reeled backwards. Puff lumbered towards their uninvited guest, fists raised, but Swagger shoved him aside, sending him sprawling over the couch to land heavily in front of the TV.

Tom tried to help Ramone get back up, but the big man turned, grabbed a fistful of Tom’s dark hair and threw him aside.

Tom landed in a heap at Kate’s feet, gasping as he banged his head on the sharp plastic corner of a plug socket.