style="font-size:15px;"> Hunger urged him to sink again into the boy, but he resisted.
'Another? More? A growing boy needs to eat.' Blake peered at him, face flushed with fervour.
And Kevin saw in Ambrose's lifestream:
Blake, thrashing Ambrose with his cane. The boy, naked crouched, his ribs and back striped and mottled with welts. Melpomene saying, enough, and Bella in the background, staring, with big, wet eyes. And Blake, pushing Mel away, and stabbing. And turning back to Ambrose, a single slash spilling crimson: 'suffer for your art, boy'. And Ambrose thanking him. Thanking him as Bella licks at the blood, and Blake takes her while he sprouts poetry, and Mel slowly heals, rumpled and forgotten
'There's more where that came from,' Blake said.
Kevin forced himself to let Ambrose go. 'I've had enough.'
The kid slumped and someone helped him to a nearby sofa. They watched the cut heal where Kevin had smeared his own blood on it. The boy was a red-eye, suckled on Blake's blood; despite the anti-coagulant in Kevin's spittle he'd have healed quickly enough, but Kevin figured he owed the kid something for the donation.
'In that case, get out.' Bloody sweat beaded Blake's forehead and upper lip. 'Out. All of you. Out!'
Blake scrabbled with shaking hands at a satchel hanging from a coat rack, and took from it a notebook bound in leather, and a long box, which he opened quickly, like an asthmatic digging for a puffer, and pulled free a fountain pen.
He saw Kevin staring and said, 'Nothing like the scratching of the nib upon parchment. So pure!' And then, when no one had moved, 'Out! Out!'
Kevin said, 'What about the Needle?'
'Yes, yes. Melpomene can keep you off the streets until the arrangements have been made. Now, out, the lot of you — out!'
'Blake's a twat,' Mel said as soon as they hit the street.
'What's that?'
'Giving you Ambrose like that. Risking, maybe even hoping, you'd lose it.'
'Why would he do that?'
'To make a point. To me.'
'I don't understand.'
'Don't worry. Just remember that Blake always puts Blake first, and you'll be fine.'
The car was where they'd left it.
'How was his lordship this evening?' Greaser asked.
'His usual charming self,' Mel said.
'So, what now?'
'Let's drive. Give Kevin the Cook's tour of Brissie.'
Kevin held his hand out. Greaser scowled, but gave him the keys.
Once they were rolling, he said, 'Those blokes back at the tatt shop—'
'The Viscounts,' Greaser said.
'Yeah, the Happy Days bunch. Why were they there?'
'The bowling alley was shut?'
Mel ignored Greaser's joke. 'They're from the south side. They aren't meant to be this side of the river. They'll get their knuckles rapped.'
'But they were looking for me. How did they know I'd be there?'
'Jack Flash might've been having a bob each way,' Mel said.
'No, he was the Needle's mate,' Greaser said. 'He wouldn't have crossed him. Why even bother to tell us Kev was in town if he was going to shop him?'
'The bint?' Mel suggested.
'You mean the counter girl?' Kevin asked.
'Jen might have connections, I s'pose,' Greaser said. 'I don't know her too well.'
'And why the Viscounts? Why would they care?' Mel wondered.
'A favour? They want West End, but the Vultures won't have a bar of them. And everyone wants the Valley. Maybe they thought the bumpkin, sorry mate, no offence, but maybe they thought Kev would give them a bargaining chip.'
'But why would Jen go to them? Why not go straight to VS?'
'No contacts?'
'What, she couldn't get the number out of the book?'
'Couldn't drop a note through the letter box? No, there's something going on.' She looked at Kevin, as though he had some secret written on his forehead.
Greaser huffed and sat back in her seat. 'I don't know why we stay here, Mel. Why do we stay here?'
'That's why.' She poked a finger at a queue lined up for cabs or a bus, or maybe to get into some fancy club.
'Nom, nom, nom,' Greaser said, sarcastically.
'Brissie's not the only town in Queensland,' Kevin said.
'It's the biggest. Easy to get lost in. To go unnoticed in.'
'Except for VS watching everyone,' Greaser said. 'Taking tithes.'
Mel looked at Kevin. 'Get rid of VS, and this could be a very nice town indeed.'
'That's not why I'm here.'
'No? I've seen inside your blood.'
'Then you know who I want.'
'What makes you think you can get Mira without going through the rest of them?'
'That's what I need to speak to the Needle about.'
No one spoke for a while and he turned on the radio. Mel turned it down.
'Nice car,' Greaser said.
'Yeah,' he said. 'A friend gave it to me.'
'Subtle,' she said.
'It's a classic.'
'If you die, can I have it?'
Mel scolded her, but Kevin laughed. 'Why not?' And then sobered. 'When do I get to see the Needle?'
'Blake's off in reverie,' Mel said. 'Could be tomorrow night. Maybe the night after.'
'Damn.' His hands tightened on the wheel as he stared at the valleys of concrete and bitumen. Now that Hunter knew he was here, the clock was ticking. He would never see Hunter coming in this crowded, foreign wilderness.
'Are you in such a rush to die?' Mel asked.
'Should I drop you two somewhere?' Kevin asked.
'Why? Where are you going?'
He gestured to the city, a vague somewhere.
'Don't
