Colin is beside me in seconds, holding the creature and yanking it away from me. Unfortunately the thing also took some of my hair. I cry out as the pain lances through my scalp.

“Shit,” Colin yelps. “Sorry, Bitsy.”

I wave a hand and turn to face the rest of the others. I notice almost immediately that the scent of them has become sweeter, more like roasted sugar. My fangs lengthen.

“Your head is bleeding,” Colin says.

I look at the other he is holding and note that it seems to be grasping half my hair and a portion of skin. I love my hair. I think it is my best feature and somehow seeing my locks in that thing’s hand sends me into a rage. Colin is about to hand the other to Max when I roar and jump onto it. Colin is knocked to the ground and pinned…

I came across a story. It’s the third I ever wrote, and it is perfect for a picture book. So ‘Kay and Prince’ has joined the queue…

At this rate I will be publishing a picture book every two months!

But today I’ve got to finish a double page spread. I’m falling behind and I’m worried that I’ll have to more my Easter date.

Wish me luck. Hopefully over the weekend I can get back on track…

We run until I know there are a couple of miles between us and the warehouse. I stop and Colin pauses next to me. Max is still limp over his shoulder. I notice that Colin is breathing hard. Not exactly out of breath but still more tired than me. I nod at the airport. The terminal is still burning but in the distance I can see a hanger. It’s isolated and there is nothing around it. I like it.

“What about there?” I ask.

Colin nods and we start walking across to it. I’m worried about Max, who isn’t moving at all. Colin sees me looking and he grimaces. We need to get him safe. The sun is hot, and that worries me.

The others don’t go out in the sun, it burns them. I don’t think they will do the vampire thing of bursting into flames but at this…

I don’t have one. I know this may be strange for an artist, but I don’t. I have one attached to my watercolour box, but it is set out with face colours. And, as I don’t want to hurt the colours already mixed, I leave it alone. Instead, I use a post it note.

They make great palettes.

You put the paint on, use it and then throw the palette post it note away. Sorted!

I should say that I also mix colours on the paper or in the margin of the illustration. I know it’s a bad habit, but I love the variations you can get in a simple swish of your brush.

Maybe I ought to get a palette…

Back at the warehouse we move to the back. At some point in the past a landscaper had tried to make the area into a greener environment. The result is a series of trees with few leaves and branches that look like skeletal hands. Colin points at them and I realise that he is hoping to use the little cover they will give us in order to reach the door. It isn’t the same one the two men used. The plan is a decent one, but only if we use all the gifts that Max has given us.

Taking a deep breath I look around, especially at the roof. It’s late morning now and the sun is shining directly onto that area. There are no tell-tale flashes and I’m about to tell Colin when he dashes past me. I can track him, but a human wouldn’t. Sighing, I follow.

The…

Once we are behind a building, well out of eye-line and hearing distance, Colin pushes me against the wall. His face is angry.

“Who is Ricky?” he growls.

“I…” I shake my head. I’m trying to think. Who is Ricky?

“Did you recognise someone at the airport?” He asks, giving me a shake that makes my neck ache.

“A voice,” I gasp. “I thought a voice sounded familiar, but I’m not certain.”

Colin releases me and steps back. He frowns. “You must know him.”

I nod.

“He let us escape…”

“I know,” I say. The run from the airport had been too easy.

“So, who is he?” Colin asks.

“I only dated one Ricky, but it can’t be him.”

“Why?”

I sigh. “Because he’s dead.”

“What?” he asks.

“Ricky is dead. We were engaged, but there was an accident and he didn’t survive,” I say, feeling the familiar lump in…