Drift (Don’t… #8)

Chapter 33 WORD IN YOUR EAR, MATE

Letting the heat of the hot chocolate warm his hands, Light followed Drift out into the garden. As he walked on ahead, the name “Jude” didn’t seem to fit as well as Drift, but Light had a soft spot for Jude. It seemed to draw a more insecure, softer side out to Drift, one he worn openly enough back at the manor, but here? Drift it was. A lot tougher, less likely to smile, and Light nodded to himself. He understood the need to shift skin and protect what was left inside.

Martin had also been right. Light picked up no black in his eyes or West’s, but there was blackness here. And the haunted look that chased Drift’s look sometimes without any hint of blackness said he’d definitely seen… something, both with Wales and… the blackness going back on at Gray’s.

But had he run because he was scared, or because he ran with a darker crowd and had been caught out going soft back in Wales?

Or was it because he saw black in Martin’s eyes and it took him down a spiral of what ifs for himself?

Fuck. In many ways he understood Jack’s call to keep any kid away from the manor, let alone blood. For all of Martin’s intelligence, Jack had this uncanny ability to call the reality of the situation, and Light knew the manor could take the best a walk through insanity and abandon them there. So seeing not only a psychopath in the blood, but also being exposed later to DID, OCD… Jack behind it all and how his softer lover’s heart crumbled under the weight?

Yeah, that and all the am Is would tear any kid down.

A few kids played on a swing, two more kicked a ball about, but a sharp whistle off Drift had them swearing at him, then running off inside as he sent a moody look their way. Light got the same moodiness a moment later, and he knew he was lucky Drift had reacted the way he had, because Light had faltered so badly back in there. But with what he’d seen and heard, Drift had a natural, untainted love for music that he lost himself body and soul to.

So Light struggled to picture it: Drift’s tie to the Night-walkers and Jason’s murder back in Wales. Light might not have been able to feel his way through people, but he could read them, and Drift… he could have picked a fight back at the manor. He could have fought Light, but he hadn’t. So maybe he’d ran with the Night-walkers at some point, but he didn’t feel a Night-walker threat.

“Look,” said Light. “Thanks for—”

Hidden from the house by a large willow tree, Light didn’t have chance to finish that as he turned back Drift’s way. The headbutt came hard, blinding him, and then the smack at his jaw saw him hit the floor a second later.

Yeah… about that soft, balanced choice of Drift’s over choosing not to fight back at the manor. He’d definitely fought as well as run with some level of bastard before.

Giving a snarl, Light swept at Drift’s feet and brought him down hard next to him. Drift landed with a huff, and Light shifted half on top of him, pinning him still with a grip to his throat.

“ I’m not a fucking Night-walker ,” snarled Light inches from his face. “ Are you ?”

Drift stilled and the strangest look hit his eyes, a drop of all feeling.

Light was kneed between the legs, and as he dropped his grip, another headbutt had him rolling off. Drift came at him again, and Light swept his feet from underneath him in the same breath. Then when Drift tried to come at him again, he did the same, knocking him back down on his ass. It took two more times of him landing on his ass to leave Drift backing off up against the trunk of the tree, breathing heavy, and Light sitting up and spitting blood from his mouth.

“You fucking stupid asshole,” Light said flatly. “Don’t ever pick a fight with me. You won’t walk away.”

“My fucking home.” Drift hurled a rock at his head, and Light dodged it with a curse. Broken bits of mugs lay around them, and Light again swore under his breath, forgetting they’d carried their drinks outside. He hurled the stone back Drift’s way and it smacked just above his head, into the trunk of the tree, as he ducked out of the way with a “shit”. Then Light started picking the pieces of broken mug up, the echo of kids playing on swings not sounding as normal if they cut themselves to pieces.

Strangely enough, Drift started doing the same. “What fucking right do you have to piss up my door, you cunt?”

Light threw him a look. “Pisses you off, right? The whole unwanted visitor invading your home shit.”

Drift glanced up. “Fuck you, Light. Fuck you sideways with a horse cock coated in a dose of Syphilis, then fuck you backwards with another horse cock and a dose of whatever Covid bullshit virus they’ve called out, all just to make sure you really cry out over being double fucked.”

“Progress,” whispered Simon in his ear. “At least he’s stopped trying to stone you. Asshole can hold his own, but it’s typical street, playing the quickest move in, so move damn quicker around him. Don’t turn your back. But he’s… he’s definitely won on the creative mouth front.”

Yeah. He definitely came with a mouth all of his own.

Drift placed the last piece of broken mug to his side.. “From how you ran with the ‘fault’ play and let us in, you were looking for a visit. An invitation was given.”

“And you were daft enough to take the bait and steal the phone,” Light said rubbing at his eye and how a lump was already forming.

Drift seemed to bite back another round of fucks by the look of it. “Are you really that stupid, huh?” Blood ran from a small cut to his head, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Have something half-inched, most house-walkers cry unclean and go on lockdown, calling the rozzers and leaving them to dirty their shoes. And out here, rozzers only want a cut of the stolen goods or a mouth around their cock to keep them happy. It was meant to warn you to back off and give me some fucking time to work out—” He stopped that there and stood, throwing out his arms. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you.” He pulled something from his pocket and chucked it over. “Take it and piss off back to life with the Kardashians. No damage done. None ever fucking meant.”

The phone landed at his feet, and Light paused only for a moment before picking it up. Drift had tugged it out with no gloves, so if any trace of the virus was on there and this was a setup, he’d have risked being pricked himself. Light recognised Ray’s phone when he saw it, and Drift snorted and started to walk away.

Raif mumbled something through in his earpiece as Light pocketed it, then—“Mention a name for me. Let’s see if it will calm him down.”

Light stood and frowned as he listened to Raif. “Grant. He’s really why you came to the manor, right?”

Drift stilled and glanced back over his shoulder. “How would you know Grant?”

“Ah,” breathed Raif. “Got you, kid. I knew it. There was only one old-guard nightwalker who had the ability to drift from group to group. Drift’s picked the talent and contacts up from him. It’s why he gets called traitor because of how he doesn’t settle with any crew. So yeah, I know who schooled him on the streets to fit into them so well.” He said something else in Light’s ear.

Light narrowed his eyes. “He died. If you knew him, you were very young on the streets. Young enough for Grant to have seen who Jude was. So when you heard another potential old-guard making a call on the street over Jude, you thought Grant, someone who knew him. That’s why you answered the call. You weren’t really looking for blood ties, because family is made by the distance travelled to help you out, not the blood you carry under the skin, right?” Light knew that more than anyone, and he listened as the rest came through from Raif, and oh…. “Grant, he looked out for you and Jackson? Only when Grant died, Jackson didn’t just lose a mentor like you did, he lost his lover.”

Drift looked away, then wiped a hand over his mouth before coming back over. “Let me say it again, real damn fucking slowly this time, because you seemed to have missed it first time around.” He stepped in close. “How would you know Grant? Because if you walk out the door, you’re the taxpaying pip to have someone come looking for you. You’re no street-walker. There’s no trace of the cold and hunger shakes that settle deep into your bones, the sort that sees most new kids walk in here and say fuck to walking back out outside, just to have a… chat like this. So you… oh.” He gave a rough sigh—then shifted a strand of Light’s hair from off his ear.

“Fuck me,” mumbled Drift. “You came with friends after all.” It seemed to hit home again how specialist tech was being used with the earpiece Light wore, and the defeat in his eyes called out how many ways he could be fucked over. “Oh you utter fucking cock. All for a bastard phone? You that bloody materialistic driven?”

“For what family saw in Wales,” Light said quietly. “For the real reason behind why the UK is on a full lockdown.”

Drift fell quiet, took a step back.

Light made sure his ear was covered back up, then he went in close and kept it short, he kept it brief. He walked him through what had gone down with Ray, over the warning they’d been given… over the potential for a virus shifting from bloodborne to air. How they’d been targeted only after Drift had taken the phone.

Drift looked at him sharply. “I gave no one the phone.” It came out so hard and angry.

Light tilted his head a little. “DNA places you in Wales the evening of the Night-walkers. Your fingertips are acid-burned. You’ve been with the Night-walkers at one stage and—”

“ Fuck you, cunt.” Drift shoved him back. “I can’t get away from that no matter how hard I try .” He came in so close. “Me and Jackson, we lost Grant because he thought me and Ava had turned and started to run with them. They put a goddamn noose around Jackson’s neck because he thought we’d turned and ran with them and tried to drag me back. They—” He tried to stop all his anger there, fight down in every way possible by the look of it. “I was in Wales trying to feed a goddamn cello for one of ours, nothing more. Leon was with me, Brighty too, who you saw back in the fucking living room. What I saw there, I saw purely because I didn’t fucking run when I should have done.”

“You didn’t report it either—”

Raif groaned in his ear, and Light knew he’d screwed up.

“ What fucked-up fantasy world do you live in, eh, Light ?” Drift snarled, pulling away from Light one moment, coming back in another. “Out here, there’s no time-outs, no safe-words, there’s no aftercare with the beatings, no basics like antiseptic for the cuts unless you beg, steal, or lie flat on your back for them. And when you do lie on your back, they laugh and take triple out of your body to make sure you don’t beg, steal, or fuck-up offering your body again. That’s just talk with the rozzers. And after that?” He shook his head. “When the Night-walkers crawl out of the cracks, sniffing your way, you want to run with them because you know running with them will get you killed a damn sight quicker and just put an end to all of this bollocks.”

Light held his heat. “They didn’t kill you. You walked away.”

“ No I fucking didn’t .” Drift shouted in his face. “Jackson fucking carried me and Ava out when I’d turned ten years old, drugged up and sick to my eyeballs. It cost him Grant. It cost us both Grant. So if you want to talk Night-walkers, you want to know why I stay so fucking quiet when it comes to knowing what happens when you do open your mouth and speak out against them—you take a long hard look at the scar around Jackson’s neck, you go talk to him. Because fuck knows I can’t. Not knowing how the last time we tried and went to the cops, they—” He cut that so short. “They made sure talking was never an option. Not at the cost of Jackson.”

Christ… ten years old, facing acid-burning—being drugged. So bloody young. Light eased off, but Drift did too as he turned away running a hand through his hair.

“I’m no Night-walker,” he said quietly. “Sometimes…” Drift frowned. “Sometimes the option to run with them is just so fucking… tempting, but no matter how much I shout it at Jackson, at West—the need to run with the Night-walkers is only because the death and dirt on my skin would come a damn site sooner with them than the fucked-up snail route I’m forced to face before I die out here. But I’m not them, and I didn’t give anyone the fucking phone.”

Light nodded, more worried over that same need for a quicker out over being left to walk the lonely route, but—“Did you have the phone on you all night?”

Drift went to snap something, then instantly didn’t.

Oh, fuck. He hadn’t. Someone in that townhouse had, though. That seemed to hit Drift as Light reasoned it.

“Fuck,” murmured Drift, and his look shot back to the house. “Oh fuck, fuck fuck .”

“Look. I trust you, okay?” He got the feeling Drift needed someone to, and Light went back in close, doing just that. “But we got sent a warning last night. It came from here because of the phone.” He searched his look. “Drift, that means someone in here is keeping tabs on you, and they don’t want us watching you as well. I need to know why they’re so focused on you when they’re giving every sign of going mass madness murder with a biological weapon.”

Drift eased back slightly, his eyes flatlining, and oh…. He knew… he knew something about someone being around to watch him.

“Point also being,” Light said quietly, “if they’re keeping tabs on you, then they’re also watching who you’re close to, which includes Jackson, West, and all the kids here. Maybe it’s tied to something you saw and shouldn’t have in Wales.” Light frowned. “Thing is… we need to know before they figure out how to move this virus from bloodborne to airborne.”

Drift watched him for a moment, eyes so much colder now. “If there’s someone watching, then they’ll know I’m talking to you. You got any idea what happens to people like that out here?”

Light shrugged. “What’s the alternative, Drift? Look, I can’t guarantee safety if you do come with me,” he said gently. “But I think… I think safety’s no longer guaranteed here for all of you either, not of this virus is going airborne. But I… I don’t think there ever was any safety for you here. Nor for West because of how from our cameras, you protect her as more than just a friend.”

Drift wiped a hand over his mouth and looked down at his feet. “Fuck.” He paled, looking so sick. “How—how do I know you’re not fitting me up? That all I’ll face there is Night-walkers or rozzers?”

Christ. Just what else had gone on to drive such a wide no-trust net? Well, besides all the abandoned at birth in a bin , living on the streets with Night-walkers killing the only family he’d known besides the Farlands ? “We let you run,” he said gently. “I get the feeling the Night-walkers wouldn’t have allowed you to do that twice, Jackson carrying you out or not.”

Drift briefly closed his eyes, and the ability to let go on trust played in every crease of his brow. He had the look of wanting to run, to find safety through hitting his way through it and no doubt would have done. But his refusal to look back at the townhouse, it called out who he’d have to leave behind, and Light knew that feeling all too well and what running alone had cost him.

“Drift?”

The soft tones came so stiffly, and Light shifted a look back to the trunk of the tree.

Long red hair shifting in the wind, whipping across her lips, West stood there looking as pale as Drift.

“What….” West took a step forward, stopped. “Have you two been fightin’? What’s going on? I mean… what’s really fucking going on. You—”

“West…” It came out as nothing more than a breath, and Drift gave a groan, then he went over and tugged her in with an arm around her neck before kissing at her head.

“Your home.” Drift looked Light’s way. “She’ll be safer there than here? I also know how to get out of there if you’re fucking us over.”

“ What ?” snapped West. “Who—”

“He’s looking for a halfway safehouse.” That came off Gray, who’d stayed quiet up until now. “One with familiar routes in case he needs to get out. Give it to him.”

Jack. He played at the back of Light’s mind, but…. “No fuck over,” he said gently. “It’s safe for as long as you both need it. And beyond if you call it.” He frowned. “But we really need a talk, Drift. We need to know what you know about the Night-walkers, and we need to do it now.”

West stiffened. “ You’re going fucking informer. Are you kidding me? Now? Why—” She cut that off too quickly, and a long look came Light’s way before she turned into Drift and whispered something in his ear.

Drift looked her way, then nodded before finding Light again. “She’s right. It’ll be another twenty-four hours before people take the lockdown seriously. We’re still on street rota because of it.” he said to him. “Jackson will pick up something’s off if we go before our slot: four pm, so too will anyone who might be watching. West’s performing whilst I show you the ropes, so we can all move then, but not until.”

“Smart lass,” said Simon quietly. “But see how quickly she steered Drift into coming here? She’s also delaying leaving, maybe to play it safe, maybe to give her time enough to tell someone….”

Light nodded. Four it was.

Four he could do.

Four would give him chance to look around, get a… feel for the home and West, those hiding within it, and just who was potentially watching them back.

“You both good?” Light threw a look at the loft door as he pulled on his jacket. Come half past two, he’d split Drift and West up for an hour or so, getting Drift to show him a vicious-looking parkour room, and leaving West alone in the loft. He’d slipped a surveillance camera discretely under the rim of a unit close to her bed, mostly just to see who West spoke to once they left the loft. Light didn’t know her, and Cath had taught him long ago to not run page blind to the people he took home with him. Simon kept him in the loop over what she was doing, but he’d only mentioned that West stayed on the bed, her look lost, more angry, out of the loft window sometimes, other times lost in sleep until a kid called Keyne went in and called 3.45 pm. She’d changed in the bedroom, and in a way, Light was glad Simon was on the other end of the surveillance and not him. Yeah, West needed watching as much as Drift, but with how Drift’s attention always shifted back towards the loft with West sat on her own, it didn’t feel right for Light to be the one doing it. Drift had taken to the bathroom not long after Keyne called the bathroom was free, and they’d all met back in the loft.

“Yeah.” Drift stayed by the window. Two chalky blue streaks split his fringe, and a tattoo of a snake weaving around a sword ran up his right arm. Clothes were different too: black sweats and T-shirt with a bomber jacket against the cold. Like West in her matching black sweats and T-shirt and jacket, it looked like the choice on clothes were done to allow movement, and Light shook his head slightly. Although Drift rested a guitar at his feet, Light had a feeling Feeding was still the main game usually played when they went out, maybe more so with the risk of a thinned crowd and police around to ensure it. He hated to admit it, but that… disappointed him a little. Maybe a lot.

West finished tying up her hair into a long ponytail, and she sighed and forced a lot of ease into her smile as the girl who’d shown Light in poked her head around the door.

“Time. Back no later than ten tonight. Don’t make me come after you.” The girl eased into a smile and looked Light’s way. “Or make me.”

“Give the bitch fest a rest, Gena.” West reached into a wardrobe and took out two masks. “But thanks for the call. I’ll have a coffee and some toast with the next one.” Gena flipped her the bird but also a smile as West threw a mask Drift’s way, and Light frowned as he tucked it in his back pocket. It looked the same skull one Drift had worn to break in back at theirs. So yeah, it wasn’t all about musical talent out there on the streets when it came to them, and Light briefly looked away. He’d last worn a mask like that to break into a property. The manor’s.

Drift handed him the guitar and a matching mask, but the amp, a no smaller than a hand-held luggage case one, he kept at his feet.

“Fender Acoustic 100. Bluetooth app setup.” Light looked the amp over. That meant one or both of them had a phone on them to run the Bluetooth connection, and he name-dropped out loud to give Simon a heads up on checking out what tech exactly would be crossing the threshold. “Impressive.”

“Get them to point, and the amp plus any phones will be confiscated.” Simon came through on his earpiece. “Don’t tell them that yet, though. It won’t go down well.”

Drift picked the amp up and shrugged, although he snorted a cold smile, maybe seeing why he’d product name dropped out loud. “Best one for guitar and vocals. Plus its lightweight and easy to carry on my part… and easy to set up with the phone West has on her whilst I… work.”

Oh yeah, he knew where Light’s intent had gone with the name-dropping. Which meant West and the guitarist usually worked their talents to draw people in, that left Drift, what? Ghosting the crowds? Feeding? Running? What was that sarcasm on Drift’s mention of… work?

Drift shook his head at him as if waiting for the penny to drop, then followed West out into the hall.

Footsteps raced up the stairs, and Brighty bolted past them with Casey, a young lass just a year older than him. Light had met her in the instrument room Drift had also shown him, and Light had been lost on how skilled she worked her way around a flute. All Mr. Tumnus’s daughter from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, ready to lead anyone astray into a dangerous taste of hot chocolate and offer of Turkish delight. She carried the flute now, her laughter loud as she tried to catch up to Brighty and take back the flute case he’d pinched. As he watched them play, Light kept to the don’t ask guideline Raif put in place, but it baffled Light to the core how anyone parent would carry on with their daily lives knowing kids like these were forced to walk the streets. But one out of every twenty-three kids in London were homeless, which were terrifying statistics. It was terrifying how easily homeless kids were marked as a statistic.

“Bagsy Westie’s bed.” Brighty skirted into the loft, and West’s face creased as bed springs creaked, true trampoline style. Casey was there, bouncing with him to, and West automatically shifted back for them, naked fear in her eyes over leaving them behind.

A tug at her arm, Drift pulled her away with a shake of head.

The Night-walkers had sent a warning Gray’s way because he’d sent the phone in here, which meant someone in the house didn’t want them around either the house or Drift. And the Night-walkers hadn’t gone after Drift for answering the call of his name, just those who had tried to make a call to someone inside it. And it was there in Drift’s eyes as he tugged West away.

Rather they keep the threat directed at the manor, away from the kids.

They made it outside, and as Light swung the guitar on his shoulders, Drift slipped the amp briefly between his legs and fastened his jacket. West took lead, but as they worked their way into the third street and past some rundown industrial buildings, Drift angled off to the right. Light frowned his way as he disappeared for a moment behind some bins, then relaxed a little more when he came back with a backpack. At some point, Drift had snuck out and put it there. Fuck. Light hadn’t even noticed, and a danger lay there. If he had time to do that, what else had he had time to do? The kid was definitely used to following his own rules and not… keeping his fucking ass still. Drift slipped the bag over his shoulder just as a bus pulled up.

As they got on, Light eyed the bag as they took their seats.

“Essentials,” said West, and he looked her way now they were on the move. Drift did too, then after a look at Light, he offered the backpack over with a sigh.

Light made the check quick, discreet. Spare clothes for two, underwear, makeup, hairbands, a drink, some cash, a box of Anadin with Drift’s name on and a few strips inside and… what was that? He kept a touch on the estrogen for a moment before he slipped it back into its private space and zipped the bag up, resisting looking at West.

“That’s why I can’t find a trace of her identity,” whispered Simon. “She’s transgender, and no doubt not even been able to change her birth sex and name via Deed Poll, so by only using West and transitioning, it’s given her a completely fresh start. And relax over Drift slipping out. I followed him via the drone as West showed you your bed for the night. He took the bag out, made no contact with anyone, and left it there. No one touched the bag until he did a moment ago. No one was around to see him leaving the bag was a sign, and there’s no tech equipment within two miles to pick him up. But if you missed him slipping out—fucking focus.”

Simon had stayed sharp, but Light wouldn’t have known West was male to female if not for the clue, and he hid his frown. Did she even have access to her birth certificate in order to apply for a name and gender change? Most who walked out never thought of proof of identity. Some walked out to forget it. What identity did Drift even have?

Light handed the backpack to him. “Thank you.” Drift would have known what he’d find.

West kept her look out of the window, at the passing cars, but it seemed too focused, a little uncomfortable, and she buried it as Drift shoulder-shoved into her gently. She looked Light’s way eventually, and he offered her a soft smile. She was back to a tougher look in her eyes, one that didn’t offer explanation or details. It was none of Light’s business, the look said, and rightly so too, but her look seemed to say she’d had a rough ride off someone, so not test her patience with any now.

Light focused on the passing streets. They changed route at the next stop, then carried on for another twenty minutes before he called out, “At the corner, please, here, mate.” Busses he was used to on getting to and from uni when his car had broken down.

The bus driver nodded and pulled in just before the T-junction.

After West and Drift joined him on the pavement, Light waited for the bus to move off, then nodded at the multistorey carpark over the road. He took the lead, and on the second level, George eased out of an unmarked Mercedes-Benz.

Light sent him a nod but stopped Drift from opening the door for West.

“What now, asshole?” Drift slammed the door shut and levelled a look his way.

George came in, holding a device, but Light took it off him and didn’t make a move toward either West or Drift. “Just a check to make sure no one’s planted anything on you. You okay with that?”

Drift snorted and held out his arms. “And to check we’re not slipping anything in with us, right?”

Light went in and offered a nod. “That too, yeah.” Drift’s look hardened, but Light held the anger. “You’d do no different,” he said quietly before running the device front to back over Drift to check for any surveillance equipment. “Trust is going to be hard until we all get to know each other.” He stopped at Drift’s jacket when he got a signal.

“Yeah?” said Drift, taking out a laser pointer. Looked like he wanted the option of getting out again. “It’s all one-way to me at the moment. We’re forced to trust you without the use of Doctor Who screwdriver gadgets, right?”

Light cocked a small smile, more so at what Drift had just removed: the laser pointer could have passed for Doctor Who’s screwdriver, especially with taking out tech equipment. He checked it out for tracking equipment, then pocketed it, knowing Simon would be tearing it apart when he got back. “You didn’t need them in your backyard.” He flicked him a look. “You picked up I had surveillance tech on me well enough.”

Drift didn’t return it as West said, “ What ? You brought bugs into our home?”

Light stepped up to her. “There’s been someone watching in there for a lot longer,” he said quietly, and she eased back a touch. Yeah, she knew someone was watching, maybe had been for a while. As he held up the device, letting West see it and give him the nod, Drift stopped him getting too close, a grip on his arm.

“Same with West as I’ve just done with you.” Light held his look. “I won’t touch her, you have my word.”

Drift held his gaze, then eventually looked back at West, waiting. West gave a short nod, and Drift let go.

Light kept it short, distanced, but thorough. When static came through, recognising a device on her too, he gently slipped into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

“I’m gonna have to keep this whilst you’re with us, okay?”

“ No .” It came out so sharply off Drift. “You don’t walk her anywhere without giving her access to a phone to get out if it’s needed.”

“Let her have it,” Simon said in his ear. “I have someone on comms. Usage will be blocked until the number is vetted, along with any signals it may give out. She’ll be tracked, but only by us.”

Light held it back West’s way, and she took it with a frown, then Light ran the device over her pocket again just to make sure there was nothing else.

“You have no phone?” Light looked Drift’s way as George took the device back and ran it over the backpack.

Drift shook his head, and that set warning flares off. Cath had never carried one, always using Brin’s or Lee’s, and in the end, she’d been the one to send a bomber into the Café and murder Brin. “Why not? Cuts you off from West and Jackson’s lot,” Light said flatly. “Something your actions so far have said you won’t tolerate.”

Drift frowned, more a: Y’really know fuck all, do you, mate ? “I move between ten crews altogether,” he said eventually. “None of them tolerate anyone doing that often, so add moving tech from one crew to another pushes their limits to, well… me basically ending up dead in a gutter somewhere.”

West looked away, shaking her head, and it looked like an age-old argument between them.

“There’s no lie there,” Raif said through his earpiece. “Grant used the same honour system. Nomads don’t come along very often, so privacy is vital. And yeah, if he broke that, then he’d end up floating in the Thames. It’s not just the Night-walkers who can be vicious bastards, not when it comes to informants. Drift would have been schooled by Grant to setup a com system via symbols, which is no doubt how he and West stay in contact.”

“Okay.” Light said that to both Raif and Drift, then as a look off George called the backpack was clean, he held the door for West to get in. Drift followed a moment later, and Light took a moment to glance around the carpark before easing into the front passenger side.

The drive back was smooth, with no detours, and they pulled up to the manor gate twenty minutes later. But as they took the long drive up to the courtyard, Drift’s look went back out of the window and stayed there.

Yeah. Light knew this drive, felt every roll of tyre rebound in Drift’s head and heart. Go back a few years, Brin had slept next to him on Simon’s drive up to Gray’s. Arson had taken Light’s world right along with his own home, but walking through those doors to face Gray…?

Light frowned. Drift faced Martin in there, and Light didn’t have one bloody clue on where to start over easing his head over that. Where would he start over Martin? How could he start when it came to talk on Jack, on everything that went on behind closed doors when it came to the manor and who slept there…?

He played on one thing, and one thing only.

Drift sat in the back because even amongst all the fear and confusion over the Night-walkers, a part of him maybe, just maybe wanted to know about blood.

About Martin.

As they’d pulled to a stop, Light just wished Drift didn’t look so goddamn distrustful over facing who slept in the manor as the main reception door opened.