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doorway. ‘Shall we kill one of them?’
    â€˜I don’t see why not,’ said a new voice – deep and cracked with age, with an accent that spoke of no particular place. Tye hadn’t heard anyone else come into the room, but suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. ‘After all, her friends will soon be captured. And we only need one of them to bring the message back to Coldhardt.’
    Then they still haven’t got the others
. ‘What message?’ she asked, playing for time; the gun might be useless, but she couldn’t run out and leave Motti. ‘Who are you?’
    â€˜My name is Heidel.’
    Tye angled her head back, craned her neck to see who was speaking. She caught a glimpse of a tall man, standing stooped in a black suit. He had a lined, lugubrious face and a mane of silver-grey. A hint of cruelty played about the edges of his lips as he held the bat in two gloved hands.
    â€˜What do you say, Ms Chery?’ Heidel went on. ‘Would you care to sacrifice yourself for your friend, or would you rather he died in your place? He is sleeping rather heavily, he will never know you betrayed him …’ The old man’s tone hardened. ‘The way your benefactor Coldhardt betrayed
me
.’
    â€˜Benefactor?’
Keep him talking
, Tye thought. ‘We’re only Coldhardt’s employees, we don’t mean anything to him beyond –’
    â€˜You’re his family,’ said Heidel angrily. ‘That’s how it works. The big man gathers his little ones to him.Insists that they prove their love by risking everything, time after time. Rewards them when they win.’ He walked towards her. ‘And their luck holds for a time. But then doubt steals in, or the strain gets too great, and … in walks death. Or betrayal.’ Tye had a clear look at Heidel’s eyes now. They were clear blue, no passion there. They looked … wrong, somehow – as wrong as a man in a flashy suit wielding a bloody wooden bat. ‘So which will it be, Tye Chery – death or betrayal, which would you give a head start?’ He smiled coldly. ‘Because believe me, each follows the other.’
    Then someone cleared his throat. ‘Did you get that out of a fortune cookie or something?’
    Tye wanted to sob with relief. ‘
Jonah?
’ She propped herself up on her elbows and saw him step through the doorway with Patch.
    Then her hopes sank like her heart; standing right behind them were a beach-blond himbo and a pale, dark-eyed girl with jet-black hair.
    â€˜Prisoners and escort,’ said Bree, and the smile she gave Tye was sickeningly triumphant.

Chapter Six
    Jonah tried to take in the scene quickly and coolly – but his mind, like his eyes, couldn’t choose where to settle. There was an old man at his feet clearly dead, Motti looking not a lot better on the floor, Tye at the feet of a girl with a gun and some aging mobster type who could have been Coldhardt’s brother – oh, and a pixie-like red-haired girl hiding under a desk.
    Quite a crowd
, Jonah thought.
Here goes nothing
.
    â€˜Yep, it’s prisoner and escort all right,’ he told the black girl with the dyed hair. ‘But guess what …?’
    â€˜You’re
all
our prisoners,’ hissed Con behind him, shoving Sadie and Sorin into the study. Sorin had reached the west-side staircase ahead of them and Sadie had cut them off from behind, just as Jonah had feared. But Patch, once again, had managed to turn things round …
    As Sadie and Sorin stumbled forward, the black girl swung her gun to cover Jonah, and the mobster raised his baseball bat.
    â€˜Back off!’ Patch shouted.
    â€˜Do as he says,’ said Sorin, and Sadie nodded – dishevelled and looking mad as all hell. The mobster slowly lowered the gun, but the black girl kept aim.
    Tye looked up at her. ‘Better give it up, Bree. It’s not even