if it was just full of people photographing cold food.
She noticed the boys loitering on the sidewalk, which was nothing unusual. It was hard to tell with some teenage boys, whether they should be at school; they were so big these days. The best thing to do was keep her head down, hide her ringlets in a tight braid or a scarf, and just keep moving past them. She remained profoundly glad of the unflattering green trousers she wore as part of her uniform that rendered her practically invisible.
These boys, however, weren’t talking to her; they were arguing with one another. Just the normal teenage beefs, showing off, puffing out their chests like peacocks. They were a mix of races, with tiny little wispy beards and mustaches, lanky legs and too-pointy elbows, a strong smell of Lynx Africa, and massive trainers the size of boats. It was slightly endearing in its way, watching them try to pretend they knew how to be men. But intimidating too, and she was about to give them a wide berth when she realized she recognized one of them. In fact, it made her wince. It was one of Ezra’s cousins. Ezra, beautiful Ezra, whose graceful body and lovely face made him irresistible whenever he got back in touch and messaged her. Unfortunately, Ezra was well aware of this, which was why he felt obliged to spread himself pretty thinly all around South London. Every time he ghosted her Lissa swore blind she’d never fall for it again. She was not much better at keeping that promise than she was about not eating Mrs. Marks’s chocolate.
But she’d met Kai by accident—Ezra had never introduced her to his family—down in Brixton market one morning when they were grabbing breakfast supplies. He was a bright, mouthy fifteen-year-old and should, Lissa thought with a sigh, really be in school. She wouldn’t mention that.
“Kai!” She raised her hand.
Just as she did so, he turned to face her, his open mouth already starting to grin as he recognized her, and then, out of the blue, there was a sudden roar of an engine, a screech of brakes, a glint in the sky as something was thrown up, a sickening sound.
Chapter 2
Five hundred and eighty-three miles north by northwest, in the small village of Kirrinfief, on the shores of Loch Ness, a cool March wind was blowing off the water, rippling the white tops of the little waves, and the clouds were hanging heavy off the peaks of the purple mountains.
Cormac MacPherson, the town’s NPL, glanced at his watch. Joan the GP was over on the other side of the moor tending to a hiatal hernia. In a human, Cormac assumed, although with Joan it could be hard to tell. She rarely traveled anywhere without being surrounded by a dust cloud of wire fox terriers. So Jake, the local ambulance paramedic, had corralled him in to help with a DNR on a very old lady. Jake knew Cormac could never say no to someone in distress and took wide advantage of his soft nature. They had sat with the family and made sure Edie was as comfortable as possible to the end, in the bed in the little cottage she’d been born in ninety years before. As these things went, it had not been bad.
Now they were heading out for a well-deserved pint.
“Not a bad way to go,” said Jake philosophically as they headed down the cobbles, the air cool on their faces.
“Mm-hmm,” said Cormac, glancing at his phone.
“Emer on you again?” Jake glanced over.
“Aw crap, she came over to make me a surprise dinner.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“It’s not terrifying,” protested Cormac weakly. “It’s sweet.”
“She must know you’re out on calls all the time.”
“I said I was off duty.”
“Yeah, well,” said Jake, not looking remotely embarrassed. “Might as well have a pint now, though.”
Cormac glanced at his watch and shook his head, just as a door opened from the little row of terraced houses they were passing; the sitting rooms came straight onto the street.
“Jake! Cormac!” came a soft voice. “I didnae want tae—”
“Bother the doctor,” finished Jake for her. “Yup, we know.”
Chapter 3
A glint of something in the air. An incredible cacophony of sound.
She had seen it only briefly, out of the corner of her eye: she had been watching the boys yelling, gauging with that innate city sense whether they were dangerous and whether it was likely to escalate—Lissa had a good antenna for trouble, having mopped up the effects of