Two of Ramone’s friends had clearly decided not to stick around. They jumped over Cicero’s body and fled the same way Swagger had come in.

‘Fleet, China, get back here!’ yelled Jasmine. She had picked up the bat that had been thrown at her and was wielding it like she meant business. But the black guy had grabbed Ramone’s gun.

He brought it up ready to fire at her.

Kate swore, leaned past Tom and yanked the adaptor plug out of the wall.

The place was plunged into blackness.

All movement stopped. The only sound was a low, male voice, Cicero maybe: ‘Por favor, no me lastime. Don’t hurt me,’ again and again.

Before Tom’s eyes could even begin to adjust to the sudden dark, Kate was dragging him up to his feet. Her lips pressed up to his ear. ‘Move,’ she said fiercely. ‘Refrigerator room. Maybe there’s an exit behind that green curtain.’

Tom charged through into the room with the refrigerator but collided with the table. His hip cracked and felt red-hot. The sound of bottles and glasses toppling and crashing filled the air.

‘Stop them,’ Swagger ordered.

A shot was fired. Tom fell forward again, and he heard Kate yelp – in alarm, he hoped, not pain.

Footsteps were coming towards him. Tom was on all fours, disorientated now, groping for the green curtain. His mind was clouding, he could feel the ’wolf bucking inside his body. He struggled to hold on. If he lost control now, lashed out in the dark, how could he hope to tell friend from foe?

Someone knocked into him as they passed. ‘Kate?’ The curtain billowed out into his face as someone swept it aside. Tom grabbed a fistful of the fabric, got up and felt his way through into the space beyond.

He found himself in a filthy room lit by the sputtering flames of three stubby candles. Tom stared around trying to get his bearings. A pair of mouldering mattresses had been slung on the floor, rucked-up sleeping bags hunched beside them like great fat slugs. A closet door hung open on a single hinge. Perhaps he could hide there until—

Too late. One of Swagger’s heavies came charging inside, the black one with the gun. Tom tripped him up and the guy went crashing to the ground, snuffing out two of the candles as he fell.

Another shape stole into the room. Tom could just about make out that it was female. ‘Kate?’ he hissed, heart thumping wildly. ‘That you?’

‘Shut your stupid mouth and follow me,’ Jasmine hissed back, crossing to the closet.

Now Tom could see that the wall at the back of it had been knocked through.

‘Emergency exit, huh?’

‘Gotta be prepared. Cops, ’wolves … all kinds of assholes want a piece of us.’

‘Where does it lead?’

‘Next door,’ muttered Jasmine. ‘Rico came this way. Boy’s sick with his asthma. We gotta get after him.’