Jamie walked slowly across the lab, his head lowered, and stepped through the door without a backward glance. Turner waited for it to swing shut, then faced the Lazarus Project staff.

“Carry on,” he said. “I apologise for the interruption.”

Turner exited the lab. Matt stared after him, Natalia’s hand still tightly entwined with his own.

“All right,” said Karlsson. “You heard the Director. Back to work, everyone.”

Jamie waited in the corridor, alongside the Security squad that had been called into action on his account. Their guns were lowered at their sides, but they were keeping a clear distance, as though they expected him to explode again at any moment.

Scared of me, he thought. Larissa always tried to tell me what it felt like, how awful it was, but I never really got it. Until now.

The Lazarus Project door opened and Paul Turner emerged. He looked at the Security squad.

“Dismissed,” he said. “Return to your stations.”

The Operators nodded, and marched away down the corridor. The Director waited until they were out of sight, then turned to face Jamie.

“Do I have to tell you how unbelievably stupid that was?” he asked.

“No, sir,” said Jamie. “I know.”

“I hope so,” said Turner, his voice low. “Because I meant what I said. You put me in a position like this again and you’re going downstairs for a long time.”

Jamie nodded. His entire body was pulsing with guilt, and the only thing he wanted to do was the one thing he knew he couldn’t, at least for now: apologise to Matt and beg his forgiveness.

I had my hand round his neck. Jesus. Round his throat.

“You know your mother volunteered to receive the cure?” said Turner. “Did Browning manage to tell you that while you were choking the life out of him?”

“He told me.”

“So you understand that this was about your mother making a decision that had nothing to do with you?”

“I understand, sir,” he said.

“Good,” said Turner. “Then I suggest you go and see her in the infirmary. That’s a far better use of your energy than attacking your friends.”

“I will,” said Jamie. “I’ll go right now, sir.”

Turner’s expression softened, ever so slightly. “I understand this is hard for you, Jamie,” he said. “I understand the concept of a vampire side, and that impulse control can be difficult. But you almost hurt someone you care about, and you caused an incident inside a Department that is living on its very last nerve. That can’t happen again.”

“It won’t, sir,” said Jamie. “I promise.”

“Fine. Go and see your mother. She’s been asking for you.”

Turner turned and strode away down the corridor. Jamie stared for a long moment, then called after him.

“Sir?”

The Director turned back. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“It’s real, then?” said Jamie. “The cure, I mean. It’s really real?”

Turner smiled. “See for yourself,” he said.

Larissa woke from a deep, empty sleep and saw 06:13 glowing on the clock on her bedside table.

She had only gone to bed four hours earlier – Haven was, unsurprisingly, a predominantly nocturnal community – but she had always been an early riser, and the morning was her favourite part of the day. She swung her legs out from beneath her duvet and floated towards the bathroom. As she showered and dressed, she ran through her mental to-do list.

It was Wednesday, which was shopping day. There was a twenty-four-hour supermarket a fifteen-minute drive south on Highway 9, and making the trip in the community’s pick-up truck was a much sought-after responsibility; it offered the chance to interact with people from outside Haven, if only briefly, and the opportunity to make sure that the fridges were stocked with the kind of beer that you liked. Larissa was on the rota to go, but had already decided that she would trade her spot with somebody else; it was an easy way to make one of Haven’s residents happy, and it was no loss to her. She felt no great desire to go to the supermarket, or into town, or anywhere else for that matter.

She had everything she needed here.

Apart from the shopping, there were trees to be felled and sawed, foundations to be dug for the new row of cabins behind the big house, roofs to be tarred, grass to be cut, cattle to be bled, and a hundred other things that kept Haven running smoothly. She smiled as she buttoned her shirt and twisted a band into her hair; it was going to be a good day, she could just feel it.

Larissa flew down the stairs and swooped round towards the kitchen. The house’s windows were all covered with pale blinds that had been nailed and taped to the frames, but the light was still bright and warm. At this early hour, Haven was blissfully quiet; even with her supernaturally powerful hearing, all her ears could detect was the rustling of tree branches, the chirping of birds, and …

She smiled, and accelerated slightly; the scent that accompanied the gentle breathing she had heard was unmistakable.

“Morning,” said Callum, as she flew into the kitchen. “Sleep well?”

The Texan vampire was leaning against the breakfast bar, tapping an iPad with one hand and holding a steaming mug in the other. As usual, he looked like he had just fallen out of bed; his checked shirt was crumpled, his jeans were spattered with paint and tar, his long hair was pushed back from his face, and his cheeks were covered with fine dark stubble.

“You’re up early,” she said.

Callum shrugged. “It’s a beautiful day,” he said, and smiled. “Sleeping seemed like a waste. There’s coffee in the pot.”

Larissa flew across to the counter and poured herself a mug. She put bread in the toaster and sipped her coffee as she waited for it.

“What are you up to today?” she asked.

“I think I’m done tarring roofs,” said Callum, his smile widening. “At least for a day or two. The rota says I’m felling trees, which suits me pretty well. You?”

Larissa’s toast popped up. She transferred the slices to a plate and buttered them quickly. “Not sure,” she said. “I’m going to swap out of shopping, so I thought I might help dig the new foundations. But I’m going to take a walk before I do anything else. Fancy it?”

“Sure,” said Callum. He stood up straight, and stretched his arms out above his head. His shirt rode up past his hips, exposing a strip of flat, toned stomach, and Larissa did her very best not to stare at it. He let his arms drop back to his sides and smiled at her. “Let’s go.”

The two vampires walked round the edge of the lawn, keeping themselves safely beneath the canopy. The morning sun was low, and the strip of shade was barely two metres wide; it forced them to walk closely side by side, and every few steps her fingers brushed against his, sending a tremble through her and forcing Larissa to confront a simple truth.

She was attracted to Callum.

It was no use pretending that she wasn’t, or that the feeling wasn’t mutual; the evidence was in the gentle half-smile he seemed to reserve only for her, in the twist of excitement she felt in her stomach every morning when she saw him for the first time that day. Nothing had happened between them; she was still in love with Jamie, and even though he was more than three thousand miles away and she had no idea whether she would ever see him again, giving in to her attraction to Callum would have felt like betraying him. But in the back of her mind, her vampire side, the strident, aggressive part of her that she disliked but had so often relied upon, whispered two words with ever increasing frequency.

Why not?

And if Larissa was completely honest with herself, she was finding it harder and harder to come up with a good answer to that question. Jamie had made his feelings perfectly clear, and she was unsure how long she was supposed to keep punishing herself for leaving. She might never entirely stop loving him, and what would that mean for the rest of her life? That she was supposed to spend it alone, a voluntary spinster who rejected every opportunity for human warmth and comfort?