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He stared at her like she’d grown wings in front of him. “You seen my stuff?”

She nodded in my direction. “Missy showed me. You got skills, kid. Fucking loved the blades with the sun, seriously fucking awesome.”

He looked at the floor, scuffing his battered trainers. “Ain’t nobody usually says much about it.”

“Then you’ve been hanging with the wrong people, baby.” Raven’s eyes were so warm, so genuine. I died a bit at the way she handled the man at my side, the way she gripped his wrist without hesitation or concern. “You’re an artist, kid, if ever there was one. Believe it.”

“Just paint what I feel.”

“Your work’s got soul, baby. Beautiful soul.”

I made to offer him a drink, but he was a million miles away. “Designed my own ink.” He pulled up his top, just a few inches, showing her a hollow-eyed face on his hips. “Don’t know if it’s any good or not. Just drew it, like.”

She raised her eyebrows, reaching out a hand. “May I?” He nodded, staring at his shoes as she uncovered his stomach. “Fucking hell, kid. You should be in the studio. It’s a fucking travesty if you’re not.” I considered whether Raven was being polite, putting him at ease on my behalf, but the set of her mouth was deadly serious. She reached into her bag, pulled out her cigarettes. “You smoke?”

He nodded. “Aye.”

“Then I’ll show you the balcony. Missy can get the drinks in.” She winked at me on her way past, leaving just a trail of vintage Poison in the air. I watched the savage follow her, hot on her heel, as though she were Moses leading him to salvation itself. Jealousy nipped, but I choked it dead. It was fucking Raven,Raven, myfriendRaven, who’s awesome to everyone in the universe.

Cara sidled up to me, chocolate brown eyes smiling. “She says his art’s the real deal. Been gushing about it for days, even in bed.”

“About Callum?” I ordered four vodka and Cokes, doubles.

“Yeah. Spitting fumes, about them covering up his work. You know what she’s like about censorship.”

I smiled. “Suppression of art by the establishment. I know. I’ll rue the day she ever meets my parents, she’ll want to tear my dad a new asshole. His approach to the Southbank Art Village isn’t going to impress her much.”

Cara’s eyes twinkled. “I rued the day she met mine. Shedidwant to tear my dad a new asshole, and it was quite mutual.”

“Your parents are part of the establishment, I take it?”

“Super well off, yeah. Contract lawyers, got their own firm.” She pouted. “Wanted me to be one too.”

“And you didn’t?”

She grinned. “Hell no. Wanted to be a dancer. Teach kids ballet now, so I guess their investment in my extra-curricular activities paid off, just not how they’d like.”

“They not so happy with your career choice?”

She took her vodka, stirring it with a neon pink straw. She was cute, really bloody cute, tapping her foot against her stool as she smiled at my question. “A lot happier than they’d be if they knew what other dance I specialise in.”

I smiled. “My parents hate what I do. They think it’s a pointless shitty job with no prospects.”

She patted my shoulder in sisterly solidarity. “Nothing like being the family disappointment, hey? Wouldn’t change it, though. Life’s about following the heart, right? Even if it does tempt us freaks to the dirty bad wrong side.”

I raised my glass, heart already calling loud and clear. Calling after the dirty bad savage on the balcony outside.

“I’ll fucking drink to that.”

***

Callum

I’d never seen a woman like Raven before. She walked like she knew she belonged in this world, like she had a place, a purpose. Never seen much of that round East Veil. Everyone round there’s always scraping in the dirt, head low, looking for the next deal to scam. Not Raven, she was different.

She led us out to the balcony. It was empty; just a glorified roof terrace with a view over nothing but an empty yard. Outside wasn’t nearly so posh as the inside, with its fancy lights, and its fancy seats and its fancy strange people. Raven gave me a cigarette, it was black, out of a bright gold box, nothing like you get down the off-license. I said my thanks and lit up with her, staring at the way her mouth moved. Her eyes were on me, taking me all in, but there wasn’t anything judgey about it, no challenge.

“How long you been painting, kid?”

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