“Sod off,” retorted one in a deep, low-brow voice. They were all in the vicinity of six feet tall andwore black clothing. In the sparse light I could see the sores on their faces, the blackened tips of their fingers. Aristo hormones gave them heightened senses and strength, but the price was an early and painful death. Sometimes they cut the drug with silver nitrate to lessen the harmful side effects, but it weakened the potency and increased skin-blackening.

That was what the plague did to those not of royal blood.

“Let them go,” I repeated through clenched teeth. I had somewhere else to be, damn it, and these fuckwits were taking up minutes on my ticking clock. Still, wouldn’t have been right of me not to intervene.

One of the males from behind came forward. The breeze that carried his scent to me brought the smell of unwashed flesh, stale sweat, blood and the early whiff of decay. “It’s another one,” he said in a cockney accent so thick I could have spread it on toast. “Another dirty half-blood.”

Well, at least I now knew that these Samaritans weren’t simply helping two sick halvies home – as if the thought had even crossed my mind. Fucking humans. They hated us, tried to kill us, but poisoned themselves so they could be more like us. “Hand them over to me and there won’t be any trouble,” I said.

The betties laughed. They always did – like the laughter track on those American sitcoms broadcast on the pirate box stations. With my bright hair and my expensive gown I obviously didn’t look like much of a threat.

The chuckles stopped pretty abruptly when I slammed my shin into Stinky’s wedding tackle. The breath rushed out of him in an animalistic moan. As he sank to his knees, I jobbed him between the eyes – twice – and laid him out cold.

“You beauties going to let them go now?” I asked sweetly as the betty crumpled at my feet. “Or do I have to humiliate each and every one of you?”

Of course they didn’t oblige me. I’d just relieved their mate of his manhood and my taunting only made them further obligated to exact a little revenge. Two of them came at me – one straight on and the other sneaking around behind.

Albert’s fangs. I was still shaky from the goblins, hungry, tired and I’d forgotten to take my supplements – again. All I wanted was for them to leave the halvies alone so I could get to the bloody party on Curzon Street and talk to Church. They were standing in the way of me getting help for Dede and I did not have time for this shit. Those limp halvies had better hurry up and metabolise whatever the betties had given them, because I was on a schedule.