‘You’re crying,’ Viola whispered as she slipped her thin arms back round my waist and squeezed. ‘Are you all right?’

I nodded, swiped at the tears and the sorrow from the memory dispelled.

‘Good,’ she said, then pouted prettily. ‘Wow, we haven’t seen you in ages and ages and ages. We’ve missed you so much, Genny.’

‘Yes, we’re so pleased to see you again,’ Lucy said, twining her fingers through mine.

‘’ave you come to see our Darius?’ Rissa swiped a tissue along my cheek. ‘Lipstick.’ She puckered up her own purple-painted mouth, then said, ‘It ’ain’t bin the same since ’e went and got the job ’ere and you not come any more.’

I smiled apologetically, realising I’d missed them too. ‘Sorry, girls. I’ve been coming here, and without Darius, well, you know …’ I trailed off, and we all stood and looked at each other awkwardly. I hadn’t really thought they’d want me visiting—after all, they’d been Darius’ little volunteer harem, as well as his breakfast, lunch and dinner most nights. And while we’d all had fun when I was there, I’d sort-of thought it was more because they’d put up with me as Darius’ blood benefactor than anything more.

‘Yeah, well, it’s not the same without him there, but you still could’ve come, you know.’ Viola squeezed my waist again. ‘We really, really do miss you.’

‘Right,’ I managed to say past the tightness in my throat. Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked them away. ‘Well, I reallymiss you all too.’ I smiled. ‘So I’ll come and see you on your next night off, okay?’

‘Yay!’ Lucy waved her arms in the air.

‘Good.’ Rissa sniffed as she smiled. ‘Then you will pay up for your poker debt.’

‘Ah, now I see it.’ I laughed. ‘You just want me back ’cos I’m crap at cards.’

‘Well, that is another reason,’ Lucy teased. ‘Oh, it is wonderful to see you again.’

‘Hey, you too, girls.’ I looked around, suddenly aware that someone was missing. Dread constricted my chest. ‘Where’s Yana? She’s okay, isn’t she?’

‘She’s fine.’ Lucy clapped her hands. ‘She’s got herself a sponsor.’

‘Really?’ I said, surprised.

Lucy nodded. ‘It’s true. Francine. She’s Golden Blade blood. They’ve been sweet on each other for a while, but the old hag Elizabetta didn’t approve. Francine was there when you visited; she used to wait in the rec room at the end of the hallway—long black hair, real sexy-like.’

‘Oh yeah, I remember.’ Francine was a petite black vamp with a liking for red leather. She’d always hung back, watching from the doorway, but she’d never approached me, for obvious reasons; she wanted to keep her head on her shoulders. ‘She okay, this Francine?’ I frowned, still concerned about Yana. The vamps who usually frequented the blood-houses were mostly the ones addicted to necking—the dangerous and highly illegal pastime of biting straight into the carotid artery.

‘She’s a real pussycat,’ Lucy shrieked, ‘and hot,’ she added fanning herself. ‘But Yana’s all right with her, she’s one of the house standbys.’

The house standbys were powerful vamps who were experts at controlling a human’s heart rate. Without the standbys, the Moths would die the first time anyone necked them, as the blood gushes like a soda fountain, and the standbys make sure the Moths never lose more blood than their bodies can cope with. But even with the standbys a lot of Moths only survive a couple of years at most; their bodies just can’t take the abuse.

If Yana had got herself a sponsor, she might still make it to immortality.

‘Yana will come later,’ Rissa piped up. ‘She and Francine are doing, y’know.’ She crooked her fingers, and mimed fangs next to the half-dozen bite marks down the left side of her neck.

‘Ah.’

‘Francine doesn’t do necks though, does she?’ Viola laughed, and crooked her own fingers down Rissa’s cleavage.

‘Genny doesn’t want to know that!’ Lucy squealed, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

‘Nah, Genny doesn’t mind, do you?’ Viola smiled with sly invitation.

‘Save it for Darius,’ I said with a laugh. ‘He’ll appreciate you more than I will.’

She pouted just as Lucy shouted, ‘Hey the booth’s opening.’ She grabbed my hand, and pulled us into the zigzag of white ropes, cheerfully shoving past everyone until we ended up near the front of the queue, about five back from the ticket booth. Our place had been saved by two couples who were evidently Coffin Club devotees, since they were dressed in undertakers’ suits, complete with top hats and funeral wreaths of white roses in their grey-gloved hands. The flowers looked oddly luminous under the UV lights.

‘See them?’ Lucy whispered as she nudged me, following my gaze. ‘Plastic flowers. They paint them with this stuff to make them glow; I seen them do it last week in the loos.’

‘Yeah, we’re thinking of getting some of that stuff for our faces so they glow like our hands,’ Viola said, angling her palm under the lights so her member’s diamond glowed white. ‘Then we’d stand out more.’ She fluffed out her handkerchief-hemmed skirt and pushed up her small breasts under her top. Her skimpy patchwork of grey lace, silk and satin shone in the gloomy interior. ‘We look a bit dingy under these lights, don’t you think, Genny?’ She eyed me slyly.

‘Yep.’ I grinned. ‘Definitely dingy.’

Lucy jumped up and down with excited impatience. ‘Hurry up, hurry up,’ she muttered. ‘We’ve been too late to see Darius the last three weeks; someone’s always got in before us and booked him up for a private party. That’s why we wanted to be first tonight.’

We reached the ticket booth. Abraham the mini-Monitor goblin was still there, his highchair drawn up to the window. He looked perkier now his earlier methane hit was wearing off, but Gareth was gone, replaced by a tall, thin vamp. The hollows under his cut-glass cheekbones gave him a cadaverous appearance that went with his tailed undertaker’s suit.

‘Hands,’ he intoned in a bored voice, waving a UV torch at the Monitor goblin.

I hung back as the Moths all crowded forward and stuck their hands out towards Abraham.

The vamp sighed. ‘One at a time, girls.’

The three giggled and shuffled, cooing at Abraham as they got their palms checked, until the vamp waved them past.

I stepped up to the booth and stuck my own hand out. Abraham touched his nose, then my fingers. ‘S’okay to enter, Miss,’ he said in a soft sing-song.

The vamp waved the torch beam over my palm, lighting up the diamond mark, then stopped and sniffed. He sniffed again, then bent down so he was eye-level with me. ‘Oh,’ he murmured, his mouth dropping open to show his two sharp canines, ‘oh, you’re her,’ he whispered, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed again. ‘ Sweet.’ His pupils dilated, spreading blackness over his iris and sclera, his top lip curled back and his two needle-thin venom fangs sprang down below his front teeth. A glistening drop of clear venom seeped from the left fang. His mind-lock brushed weak as mist against my mind, which told me he was probably no more than fifty vamp-years old. And that he was a total idiot if he thought he could catch me in a mind-lock, not to mention the fact that he didn’t appear to have got the memo about my protection. I sniffed myself, exasperated. He might be an idiot, but I didn’t want his true death on my conscience because he got over-excited and stupidly forgot himself.

I shot my fist out, punching the vamp on the chin, shutting his mouth with a snap. ‘Hey, fang-boy, listen up!’ I growled. ‘Either you stop with the sniffing and go off-line, or your body’s going to end up without a head soon.’

Comprehension and fear crossed his face and he scrambled back and grabbed for a plastic sandwich box sitting on the shelf next to the goldfish bowl full of wristbands. He jerked the lid off and buried his face in the box. A faint reek of garlic drifted towards me. Seconds later he came up coughing and spluttering, pink-tinged tears streaking his cheeks.