Now get lost, before I call the London Guard.’ ‘You’re not going to do that.’ ‘Oh, yeah?’ ‘Well, since you’re wanted for memory-thieving too, Loe, I highly doubt you’re going to want London Guardmen coming to your home.’ A pause so tense it could wedge a door open. ‘How in the hell d’you know my name?’ ‘As I said, Loe, I’m a friend of Seven’s.’ At the sound of voices, Seven stirred blurrily, rubbing his eyes. He pushed himself up in bed. Or rather, he tried to, but pain spiked through his chest and he fell back, cursing. He was lying on the thin mattress of Loe and Mika’s bed on the upper deck at the back of the bus. Over the steady rush of rain outside, the two raised female voices floated up from below. Seven peered around in the darkness. By the lantern-light spilling up the stairs from the lower deck he made out a silhouette with a huge frizz of bushy hair peering down over the top of the stairs. ‘Mika?’ Seven called. She looked round, pressing a finger to her lips.
