The shop itself was an inferno, and Gideon guessed that the bombs had been thrown through the wide glass window that would have offered passersby a view of whatever the shop had once sold. The arsonists had either done it because it was easier than trying to reach an upstairs window, or they'd done it because that left the squatters with no way out.

Fire was licking along the wooden staircase, and the banisters were charred black and collapsing. The bottom steps were too far gone to support human weight.

Gideon leaped over them, landing with vampire grace in the middle of the stairs, and they creaked beneath him, so he jumped again before they could collapse, and landed on the upstairs floor.

"Jerry," he roared, straining his ears for any signs of life over the sounds of the blaze.

There – the faint sound of a voice, coming from further down the landing.

Gideon ran to the third door. The fire hadn't reached the frame yet, but it was raging through the floor below, so the door-handle would likely be red-hot to touch. Gideon kicked the door down.

Inside the room, Jerry and five other men were frantically trying to shred the blankets from their mattresses. Another man had smashed a window with a chair and was clearing away glass from the frame. "Hurry up," he cried, choking on the smoky air.

Jerry saw Gideon and dropped the blanket. "What are you doing here?" he cried. Sweat poured down his face and his eyes were red-rimmed.

"Saving you," Gideon replied.

"We tried to get down the stairs, but . . ."

There was a crash behind Gideon as the last of the staircase collapsed. Gideon looked at the floor beneath them. How long could it support their weight?

"We were trying to make ropes to climb out of the window, but it's not working. I think we're going to have to jump," Jerry said.

Gideon crossed to the window and looked out. Below them was a narrow strip of alleyway, a hard ribbon of concrete ground. Jumping from a second storey wouldn't necessarily kill the men, but they could get hurt, and then what? If the police didn't care if the gay squatters burned to death, then Gideon didn't trust a hospital not to turn them away.

"Get away from the middle of the floor," Gideon ordered and picked up the blanket that Jerry had dropped. He tore it down the middle and knotted the two pieces tightly together, before snatching a blanket from someone else's hands and shredding that too.

Jerry watched, open-mouthed.

"I don't know how much weight this will bear, so we have to move quickly," Gideon said.

Jerry looked around the room, his eyes panicky. "There's nothing to tie it to."

"I'll hold it," Gideon said.

"You can't –"

"We don't have time to argue," Gideon shouted.

Flames were crawling in through the open doorway, and the floor was hot beneath his feet. If it collapsed, he could survive the fall, but maybe not the raging fire.

Wrapping one end of the makeshift rope around his forearm, he tossed the other end out of the window. "Climb down," he told Jerry.

But Jerry shook his head. "Davey, get over here," he yelled.

Eighteen-year-old Davey, the youngest of the group, scrambled to the window. "I – I can't," he said, when he realised what Gideon wanted him to do.

"You have to," Jerry said, putting both hands on the boy's shoulders. "This is the only way."

"I won't let you fall," Gideon said

He met Jerry's eyes over Davey's head; Jerry was trying not to cry.

"Trust me," Gideon said, and Jerry gave a shaky nod.

But Davey recoiled from the windowsill when he looked down, and tears ran down his face. "I'm scared of heights," he cried.

His other option was burning to death, but there wasn't time to argue. Dragging the rope back up, Gideon spun Davey around and knotted one end around the boy's waist, then propelled him to the window.

"Wait," Davey cried.

Gideon pushed him out.

The rope immediately went taut, and Davey screamed in terror, dangling just below the windowsill. Gideon fed the rope through his hands, lowering Davey down as fast as possible, until he felt the slackness as Davey reached the ground.

"Untie yourself, quickly," Gideon barked.

Davey did, and Gideon hauled the rope back up.

"Who's next?" he said.

He worked quickly, lowering man after man to the ground, and by now other people had been drawn to the sight of the fire. Men and women from nearby squats were rushing to help, armed with blankets and bottles of water.

Jerry was the last man still left with Gideon upstairs – he'd refused to leave until everyone else was safe.

"Your turn," Gideon said.

"What about you?" Jerry asked.

"I'll be fine."

A terrible crack echoed throughout the room, and a large section of floor fell away, opening up a burning pit. Flames surged up, blasting the room with scorching heat.

Jerry grabbed Gideon's sleeve. "You'll die if you stay here."

"Trust me."

Jerry took another step forward, and then there was another awful crack as the floor gave way beneath him.

Gideon lunged to catch him, grabbing Jerry's arm as he plunged towards the inferno in the shop below. If he'd been human, then Jerry's weight would have pulled Gideon down too, and he had never been so glad to be a vampire. He hauled Jerry back up a split-second before the flames caught his clothes, and spun him around so he was away from the fire, but the momentum sent Gideon reeling back into the wall of flame that had soared when the floor collapsed.

Flames licked over the backs of Gideon's arms and his shirt caught fire. He shoved Jerry away, and the rope slipped through his hand at the same time, falling from the window and onto the street below.

"Gideon," Jerry screamed.

Gideon slammed himself against the wall, trying desperately to put out the flames.

The rope was gone, Jerry couldn't get out, and Gideon realised there was only one last chance at saving both their lives.

Ignoring the flames searing him, he ran at Jerry and slammed into him, lifting him off his feet and diving out of the window. He twisted in midair, so that he would take the brunt of the fall, and held Jerry tightly to him.

The pavement rushed up to meet him.

Bright bursts of red pain exploded in his chest as his ribs broke, and his head smacked against the ground. The world faded out for a moment, but he could hear Jerry screaming for help.

Someone rolled him over, and a heavy blanket smothered the flames, but the rough movement against his broken ribs was excruciating, and he tried to scream, but all that came out was a moan.

"Gideon? Can you hear me?" A rough hand gripped his, and he managed to open his eyes to see Jerry hovering over him.

"I'm okay," Gideon whispered.

"No, you're not," Jerry said, fresh tears cutting through the smoky grime on his face.

Gideon tried to sit up, but Jerry held him down. "Don't move."

But Gideon had to.

Besides the broken ribs, the pain from his burns was coming in nauseating waves, and his fangs were straining in his gums. He needed blood, desperately.

Another face joined Jerry's – Davey.

Gideon closed his eyes.

Even with the roaring fire, he could hear their heartbeats, that steady, delicious pulse calling to him. He could practically taste the sweet, warm blood flowing through their veins, and raw, primal need erupted in his stomach, making him hunch over. He hadn't felt hunger like this since Nicholas had turned him all those years ago.

Every instinct was urging him to take was what so close, to sink his fangs into the throats of the men crouching over him. Their blood would help him heal, but he didn't feel in control of himself. If he bit either Jerry or Davey, he was terrified that he wouldn't be able to stop.

He had to get away from here.

Clenching his teeth against the pain, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring Jerry's protests, swatting away Jerry's hands when he tried to make Gideon lie down again.

"Gideon, stop," Jerry cried.

But Gideon was already running, as fast as his injured body could cope with, away from the people he had just saved, before he could put them in danger again.

4/5