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for an adult, a bite was a death sentence, the sudden chemical changes too much for the body to survive.
    Now, Jericho watched Corbin scuffling with two of the Slayers, ginger hair falling over his eyes that were beginning to rim bright red and glint silver. White froth formed at the corner of his mouth and his shoulders had begun to swell, the air pulling tight with the electricity of a Breed on the edge of reversion, raising the hair on Jericho’s arm.
    The Slayers, realising they were outnumbered by a crew who could hold their own, were starting to back off. People in the crowd laughed as their earlier apprehension about being caught in a biker fight slid back to just being entertained, and some even cheered, seeing their retreat as a win for Camden. Jericho thought it was a miracle no one had pulled a gun and forced the matter to get out of hand.
    He moved forward now, the crowd parting quickly for him, and when he got to Corbin he found Reaper half restraining him. Jericho put his hands on Corbin’s shoulders, tightening his grip as Corbin began to rock from side to side: a basic calming technique each man was taught as a self-soothing response to rage.
    Corbin’s shoulders slumped now, the froth at his mouth dying to a few bubbles on his chin. Jericho kept his hand on his shoulder, letting him feel his strength.
    â€˜You got a handle on it?’ Jericho projected the alpha part of him into his voice, his words rumbling around the room. Corbin’s eyes had returned to their regular colour and his breath was slowing down easily enough. Relief made Jericho almost light-headed.
    He leaned closer to Corbin. ‘Are you in control?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Corbin’s head fell forward, remaining anger draining from him.
    â€˜Good.’ Jericho retreated as Reaper took one of Corbin’s arms, guiding the kid outside.
    Turk came alongside him, watching as Winger and Blades threw the last biker out the door, the crowd cheering them on.
    â€˜Those Slayers are bad news,’ Turk muttered. ‘Reaper said they were making pretty big threats about coming back with a small army to settle the score.’
    â€˜We can take them,’ Jericho replied. ‘And if they do come back, we’ll make the lesson stick hard.’
    Turk glanced at the bar’s entrance. ‘Was that Karla I saw leaving before?’
    â€˜Yep.’
    The old man glanced at his watch. ‘Bit early for the Royal Bitch to be gracing us with her majestic presence, isn’t it?’
    â€˜She had some news for me.’
    â€˜What kind of news?’ Turk asked. ‘Or don’t I want to know.’
    â€˜Probably you don’t.’ Jericho blew out a long breath. ‘Look, I want you to organise someone to keep an eye on Corbin the next few days. We came real close just then to a bad situation. I need to know if he’s starting to struggle.’
    â€˜You got it.’ Turk paused, then said. ‘If he is having troubles, you got a plan?’
    â€˜You mean better than the one I had for Lance?’ Jericho’s eyes sliced to the old man. ‘You think there was something else I could have done for him?’
    Turk shook his shaggy grey head. ‘Everyone knows you did everything you could. In the end, there was no other way and we both know that.’
    Jericho nodded, then watched Turk head towards the back to his shop, not sure the old man was right.

Chapter 4
    Lydia stood outside the Camden police station, clutching the ham and cheese sandwich she’d ducked out to get for an early lunch. Her heart pounded, sweat beaded her forehead and the scars under her collarbone itched, as if the skin was still trying to heal.
    Panic attack .
    The last time she’d had one was on the mainland, before she’d boarded the plane to Camden. It had only lasted ten minutes, and had been more embarrassing than anything else as she’d sat in the airport lounge, head between her legs,