The Fandom(21)

The freckly controller runs an anxious hand across his brow. ‘The little ones are, but the tall one, she’s Gem for sure.’

‘She’s definitely Imp, I grew up across the street from her. She’s always been bloody gorgeous. I keep telling her, you need to break your nose or summit, or one day you’re gonna end up flipping on a barrel like a fish.’

There’s this awkward pause. A tense silence from the crowd.

Terry moves first, slapping the black-haired Imp on the back. ‘It’s OK. I know this kid – he’s all right, I tell you. He’s Ma’s boy, and if he says she’s an Imp, she’s an Imp.’

‘So where’s her tattoo, and why was she hiding a dress under her overalls?’ The freckly controller asks, his voice laced with disappointment.

Alice manages to croak a few key words. ‘I’m working for the rebels.’

‘Of course,’ the black-haired Imp says, catching on quickly. ‘She’s pretending to be a Gem so she can get us some secrets.’ His eyes flash an amazing pastel-blue. ‘She deserves a bleeding medal, risking her life to save you idiots, and what do you do? String her up like she’s a monster.’

The crowd begins to murmur, exchanging confused, sideways glances. The president circles his hands again, keen to watch the finale to his show. ‘Since when did innocence matter?’

But several hands have already sliced the ropes and helped us from the barrels. The black-haired Imp pushes his body under my arm and supports my weight, looping his spare arm around Alice’s waist. Katie’s fared better and manages to walk behind us, her hand resting on my shoulder like she’s lost her sight.

I can’t help notice how strong the black-haired Imp is, in spite of the knots of bone which push through his shirt and into my flesh. I can barely walk, yet he sweeps us along with ease. We begin to weave our way between the baffled spectators.

‘Just keep moving,’ he says.

Alice groans in response.

‘Nate. I need to go back.’ My words merge together, but the boy seems to understand.

He hoists me a little higher and shakes his head. ‘Do you have a death wish? Just keep moving before they change their mind.’

‘We’ll find him, Vi,’ Katie whispers from behind.

‘Who are you?’ I ask the black-haired Imp.

‘Your hero by the looks of it,’ he replies.





We vanish into a side street, and after several confusing turns, he pulls us through a doorway.

‘You’re safe here.’

Upon hearing those words, I sink to the ground and adopt the foetal position. I think I must retch because bile fills my mouth, and I guess I’ve started to cry, because I hear the sobs of a terrified girl. My hands flit between clawing at my neck and shoving away imaginary demons – a colony of ants crawling all over me, biting, nipping, burrowing down. Katie sits beside me and strokes my hand, and the black-haired Imp holds my hair from my face in case I puke. These kind gestures pull me from my pit. I struggle into a sitting position and lean against the wall beside Alice. I turn and take in her face, pale and drawn and streaked with mascara.

‘Are you OK?’ she asks.

I shake my head and register a new pain; the burning ring of fire encompassing my neck. I run my fingers across it and feel something warm and moist, oozing on to my split-heart necklace.

‘Violet’s noose was really tight,’ Katie says. ‘I could see it cutting into her skin.’ She’s trying really hard to speak in her normal, practical tone, but I catch the waver at the end of her sentence.

The Imp passes me a cup of steaming liquid. ‘Here, try and drink something.’

I take it with quavering hands and let my chest just rise and fall of its own accord. I take small, broken sips and the pain around my neck subsides. It tastes a bit like black tea. He passes one to Katie and Alice, and I hear them muttering thank you. Alice sniffs it and places it on the floor.

I gradually grow aware of my surroundings – a small room, sparse and uncarpeted, boxes instead of chairs, a small sink in one corner and an open fire in the other. The Imp lifts a quilt from a nearby box and throws it around my shoulders. Only now do I notice how cold I feel.

‘So, what’s your story?’ the Imp asks.

A single word spears the bleariness: Nate. I recall the last time I saw his face, tight with anxiety. ‘I need to find my little brother.’ I try to lever my body up, but my arms buckle, the world rotates, and I end up slumping back against the wall, tea slopping on my lap.

The Imp takes the cup from me, his fingers grazing mine. ‘You’re not going anywhere for a little while. You’re in shock, and those bastard controllers may still be out there.’ His voice sounds warm, like he’s known me for years, and I feel my muscles unwind a little.

‘He’s right,’ Alice says.

Katie nods. ‘Nate will be fine, he’s with Saskia and she’s a right old battleaxe.’

I bite my bottom lip, pinning it in position, trying to stop it from trembling. Silence spreads between the bare walls.

‘I’m Ash,’ he finally says, touching my arm.

I feel my head jerk upright. ‘Ash?’

He looks a little bemused. ‘That’s what I said – Ash.’

‘Ash from canon?’