Julius had broken his arm during his chase of Saskia and the princess in Tokyo, ending up in a hospital near Shinjuku. It had taken a lot of money to persuade the authorities to sweep the incident under the rug and get Julius back to the compound in Yakushima. Worst of all, they’d both failed. Jamie had got away from her and they hadn’t got even a lick of revenge on Saskia for what she’d done to Julius’s eye.

‘We’re leaving,’ Ingrid confessed, knowing Julius hated being uprooted – that, like her, he craved a place to make his own. ‘The Master says it’s time to leave Japan.’

After a long sigh, Julius winced, using his good hand to rub at his broad stubbly chin. ‘Where are we going?’

‘He has another sympathizer in Germany, a friend from his time at university to whom he’s promised favours once our plan is complete.’

‘Closer to Maradova?’

‘Closer to England.’

‘Ah, of course.’ Julius whistled. ‘One thing at a time.’

His remaining good eye started to close, his pain meds making him lethargic. It didn’t help that the room stank of sandalwood incense. Ingrid decided now was a good time to get him some food so he’d have something to eat when he woke up.

Stepping out into the ugly windowless corridor, Ingrid’s ears pricked, a telltale pitter-patter coming from round the corner. Clasping the spider knives sheathed at her side, Ingrid continued down the corridor, her kitten heels echoing a metallic click-clack against the walls. Her wrists only hurt a little now, the dull ache a ghostly memory of the injury Jamie had given her in Tokyo.

As Ingrid approached the corner, a black-clad figure darted out, skidding on the floor and aiming a knife at Ingrid’s face. With lightning speed, Ingrid lunged out of the way, the knife whizzing past her nose, and with a quick flick of her spider blade she sent her attacker’s knife flying into the wall with a clang. In one more swift movement, she grabbed the figure and spun them round until they were on their knees.

‘Oopsie!’ The person laughed, before biting down hard on Ingrid’s wrist, forcing her to let go.

‘Stella, you brat,’ Ingrid hissed. ‘Where’s your brother?’

Stella grinned, her freckled face contorting to reveal a set of teeth obscured by pink braces. ‘Behind you.’

Ingrid turned like a tornado, preparing for the inevitable attack, only there was no one there. Behind her, two voices joined in hysterical laughter.

‘Made you look!’ they chorused.

‘I remember when you were both quiet and bearable,’ Ingrid growled, turning to face them.