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where I put my wallet…”

“That’s cool. My treat, okay?”

He relaxed and flashed me a smile. “Thanks, Scarlett.”

Outside, the city looked different. The sky was darker, the shadows were longer, and it had nothing to do with the sun going down and me missing yet another shift at 8-bit.

The kebab shop was a beacon of light in an otherwise tumultuous world. Stepping inside, I was immediately scowled at by the owner, a pudgy, six-foot-three Turkish man with a moustache of epic proportions.

“Yes?” He thumped his fist down on the counter and cocked a bushy eyebrow.

The guy had a reputation for being abrasive and demanding, but I supposed he had to be when they stayed open until two a.m. and served a long line of drunks looking to get something to soak up the excess alcohol. His real world, no bullshit approach was reassuring in an odd way.

“Can I have a large lamb donor, a large chicken kebab, and two large fries?”

“Yes. Eighteen-fifty. Pay there.” He jabbed a meaty finger at the cash register and turned to make up my order.

I paid, dropped the one pound-fifty change into the charity box chained to the counter, and sat on the bench. Watching people come and go, my thoughts naturally drifted to the creature that’d been lingering on the tube. He’d appeared to be just another guy on the commute home or to wherever, but the moment I ran… I shivered, remembering how he’d appeared out of nowhere in the tunnel and tried to grab me.

The cracking of bones, the whites of his eyes, the clicking sounds it made in the back of its throat. The Naturals just tossed me back into the world, knowing what awaited me. I felt like a worm wriggling on the end of a hook.

A prickling sensation quivered over my body and I was jerked out of my thought pattern. Turning towards the shop windows, I tensed as my gaze connected with a woman who was standing outside.

She was a normal-looking corporate clone on her way home from a boring day working at some office. A posh leather bag was slung over her shoulder and her woollen coat looked like it might be from a designer label. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her make-up was beige and bland. Normal, right? Not from the way she was staring at me, though.

Glancing around, no one else seemed to notice her. The kebab shop workers were busy taking orders and cooking. Customers were staring up at the menu, and passersby were engrossed in their own business.

I turned back to the window and the woman smiled, her eyes rolling.

“You. Order.”

I glanced back at the counter as the burly kebab shop man thrust a plastic bag full of food at me. Taking it, I smiled weakly, my stomach twisting and turning. Glancing back at the window, I noticed that the woman had disappeared.

Swallowing a pile of vomit, I knew I couldn’t stay in here all night, so I took a deep breath and left the shop. Outside, I looked up and down the street, but the woman was well and truly gone.

Scowling, I made my way home, the bag of kebabs and chips swinging back and forth. What use was having Light if it was blocked like a pile of sewerage stuck in a toilet? Did I just pretend that I couldn’t see demons roaming the streets of London? That’d be a tough call if they all stood around staring at me like complete weirdos. How could I ignore that?

I looked back over my shoulder as I strode down Kentish Town Road, wondering if half the demon population of the world was bearing down on me. One fear had been replaced with another.

Don’t be silly, Scarlett. They wouldn’t have let you go home if they thought you’d be in danger. It sounded more absurd the more I thought it.

One thing was certain. I’d never look at the world the same way again.

* * *

Saturdays at 8-bit was dance party night.

I stood amongst a packed crowd, my mind elsewhere as music thumped through the air, making my bones vibrate. A girl dressed in an elaborate cosplay snaked past me, her papier mâché angel wing almost smacked me in the face.

When I’d shown up ready for work, I expected to be blasted for missing my last two shifts, but it was business as usual. Howard, the owner, had just sailed right past me, a bee in his bonnet about the drunk who threw up behind the pinball machines, and didn’t even pause to tell me how irresponsible I’d been. I smelled a little Natural mumbo jumbo, but I wasn’t complaining. I needed the job.

Things seemed too unresolved and empty, and I couldn’t shake the feeling. I didn’t know anything about the mysterious Balan demon who’d appeared in my memory of my parents’ death, nor did I understand what it meant to have Light. The only thing that’d happened since leaving the Sanctum was me developing one heck of a trust issue, but that was nothing new. Only the levels had changed from human arseholery to full-blown demonic.

It was tough not having anyone to talk to about it. I was itching to tell Jackson about the fact that my parents might’ve been Naturals, or at least have Light they passed to me, but he didn’t remember anything. When he’d woken up that morning, he was back to his usual perky self, chattering about some big gaming tournament that was coming up. They’d wiped him clean like a whiteboard, while I was stuck with the permanent marker.

What got me was the fact that they didn’t seem to care I might’ve been attacked by a demon as a child. They’d kicked me out rather fast. I wonder why that was?

“Scarlett.”

I jumped a mile when a hand tugged at my wrist. Spinning, I almost collided with Jackson.

“Don’t do that!” I exclaimed, clutching the dirty glasses against my chest.

“You were staring off into

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