On the day of the full moon, Gus was lying on his stomach on his tiny bed, trying to teach himself the newest math formula they went through at school this week. It was going into his brain like butter and he was speed-writing equations down a page in his ragged notebook when a tentative knock sounded on his doors. Gus’ pencil – he never bought pens, because they ran out of ink quickly – paused over his page as he frowned. He didn’t recognise that knock. Marianna always triple-knocked. Art knocked in a continuous stream without stopping until the doors were open; Raphael usually just hollered for Gus to open as he jogged up the stairs; Buster rapped a beat out on the doors with his open palms; Val slammed her fist into the door as if she was trying to break in; and Jamie never knocked. Jamie just walked in and dumped himself on Gus’ bed. Not one tenant of the last building on Bay Street knocked in such a shy, polite manner. Gus got off his bed and walked up to his door cauti

‘’Chug, chug, chug, chug...!’’Valentina obediently chugged her third beer as the small crowd gathered around her cheered. The Crypt was open for business but the group had put a small amount of time aside to celebrate Raphael turning twenty. They had wanted to go out for burgers, but Raphael said he was too busy. He wasn’t even in the club anymore, only three hours since opening. No one knew what he was busy with but between his absence in the past two days and Buster’s confinement his bed, pretending he was having a cold, Val was left to distract her friends from the heavy, strange atmosphere that came with being incomplete. Jamie, Gus and Art cheered as Val raised her empty glass in the air with a victorious whoop, ‘’nice one,’’ Jamie said approvingly, jumping behind the bar with the easiness of a kid whose been running away from the police since he was twel

The warehouse doors rattled as they were pushed open by Rosita. Raphael didn’t miss the flash of her knife as she quickly hid it in her pocket. He didn’t blame Fritz’s sub-pack for being on high alert after the attack from that lone wolf that Fritz had killed, ‘’it’s you again,’’ the pink-haired woman observed. She pulled down the bandana hiding her mouth and nose.‘’Hi,’’ Raphael said, hands in pockets. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling his heart pound. He hadn’t seen Fritz in over a week and just the thought of being around his mate made his blood pressure spike, ‘’is Fritz in?’’‘’You just missed him.’’Raphael’s heart sank. He hesitated, ‘’how just?’’‘’You  won’t catch up to him,’’ Rosita said apologetically. She liked Raphael and she was getting tire

‘’No talking, no distracting each other,’’ Jed walked down the rows of desks at the community college, giving out lined paper, ‘’you have forty minutes, starting,’’ he glanced at his wrist-watch, ‘’now.’’The sound of paper rustling and pens clicking filled the room. Jed leaned against the back wall, watching the students read the essay question. Some went into writing straight away and Jed mentally shook his head. His eyes drifted automatically to Art, by the window, next to Buster’s empty seat. He’d given in the promised essay and it had been brilliant. Now Jed wanted to see if he could pull it off in an exam. Art had a bright mind that had taken some digging to bring into the light and Jed didn’t want him to waste it. He found himself strolling down the rows of desks, glancing at students to see what they were writing. He finally came to a stop besides Art’s desk. Art was still reading the question, chewing on his pen.Jed’s eyes zoned in on his mouth and he felt suddenly mesmerise

Val had never worn a proper blazer. Even in high-school, before she became a sixth-former, she didn’t have enough money to buy that expensive piece of fabric that did nothing to keep out the cold and only made her shoulders look square. She’d nearly driven her teachers to an early grave wearing only a raggedy jumper over her rumpled shirt and faded trousers. But Ellie had told her that her old leather jacket wasn’t something she could wear to work and Val hadn’t argued when the red head deposited a stack of clothes at the last building on Bay Street. Now, mid-December, she was starting her intern. She couldn’t help but feel a little proud, standing in front of the towering building in the centre of the city, dressed in smart jeans and a burgundy blazer over a black shirt. She came from nothing – abusive, alcoholic parents, no roots, no inclination as to what her talents could be apart from brute force. Now, with all the mess between Jamie and Art and Gideon and Buster, she felt like