Mrs Taylor was the boss from Hell.

"God, my feet are killing me," she grumbled, bending down to massage her ankle. She was wearing designer scarlet stilettos. "And the night hasn't even started."

Then she turned to me, and smiled. It was the kind of smile you offer to a child, encouraging and fake.

"Are you looking forward to the dinner, Rae?"

"Um," I said. We turned around a corner and another street opened up before us. "Yeah."

She tried her hardest to be a cool boss, but it didn't really work. Laid-back and Mrs Taylor couldn't be used in the same sentence. Maybe it was her tone of voice. Mrs Taylor didn't talk, she boomed. Even when relaxed, her powerful voice carried over the others and made you cringe. She was a brisk whirlwind of activity, barking out orders, straightening our uniform, rushing to and fro to meet clients.

I wouldn't have been surprised if the woman didn't sleep. I imagined her sitting up all night at a desk in her fabulous flat, scheming and planning, expensively dyed blonde hair pulled back into a bun so tight her eyes popped out of her forehead.

She had a habit of turning up at the pub at unexpected times, to keep an eye on all of us, I suppose. I couldn't ever concentrate with her around. She'd lean forward, elbows down hard on the bar, sipping her drink with a suspicious little frown on her perfectly made-up face as if she expected it to be poisoned.

She scared the shit out of me.

"Lovely," Mrs T. said. "Because it's such an important event, Rae. You know Anker's has pubs all over England. All the big fish are going to be present tonight, so it's paramount that we make a good impression on them. I want you to be on your best behaviour. " She cocked her head to a side. I felt like her reprimanded pet Golden Retriever. "Understood?"

I tried not to scowl. "Yes, madam."

She'd somehow managed to discover where I lived – I suspected tongue-wagging Vanessa had something to do with it. She'd insisted on picking me up at my street. She claimed she was passing by anyway, and that this 'was the ideal way to strengthen the bond between employer and employee.'

I didn't know if I wanted that particular bond strengthened, but I couldn't very well refuse. I'd tried to cheer myself up by thinking she'd probably pick me up in some large posh car and I'd waltz to the restaurant – some fancy Asian place I'd never heard of – like a queen.

But lo and behold she'd turned up on my doorstep, carless. It seemed I was lumbered with her the whole way, a good twenty-five-minute walk. It was going to be torture. I just knew it was.

I hated events like this. I got so horribly tongue-tied that I couldn't bring myself to speak to anyone I didn't know, let alone any of the so-called 'big fish.' I tried to picture all the wonderful food I'd be eating, but my stomach was so tightly knotted with nerves I knew I'd only be picking at it. Thank badness the dinner was mandatory. That meant Vanessa couldn't wiggle out of it. I made a mental note to drag her to sit by my side.

It was a cold night. I burrowed myself deeper into my coat and saw Mrs Taylor look at me.

"Are you wearing that, Rae?"

Oh no. "Er, yes?"

"Right." She gave me a sharklike smile. A bus thundered past. I could see Mrs T.'s teeth gleam in the bright glare of the headlights. "I thought I said you should dress up? This is slightly – tacky, my dear. I don't want people to get the wrong impression of my employees."

I felt myself blushing with anger and embarrassment. "Sorry," I muttered. "It's my best dress."

She shook her head in a mildly amused manner. The hag. Did she think I was made of money? 

"Is it long now, Mrs Taylor?" I asked.

"We'll be there in ten minutes," she said, checking her watch. "I do enjoy walking. It's so nice to stretch your legs a bit, isn't it?"

"Um, of course," I said.

"Rae, hurry, I don't like the look of those alleys," Mrs T. said, as if I were the one slowing us down. "Come along."

I glanced to the side. The alley curved between two rows of narrow houses with boarded-up windows and darkened doors. They looked like pale corpses in the half-hearted glow of the lamplight. The street snaked under a dingy tunnel, then out of sight.

It was almost never o'clock.

Then I heard it. Carried by the wind, I could make out the sound of agitated voices nearby.

A man's. "Don't try to deny it, arsehole. She told me herself." Coarse. "She's confessed everything. Everything!"

"Look, mate, it's all been a huge misunderstanding." Another male voice. Composed, placating. "I don't want to cause any trouble."

My steps faltered. I knew that voice. I'd heard it rippling from the stage, threatening me to death, whispering into my ear.

It was Kal's.

"Well, it's too late for that, isn't it, mate?" The other man spat. "You're already in such deep trouble you're going to regret the day you were born. Little wanker." The voice rose in fury. "God. I'm going to fucking kill you, and then I'm going to break her pretty little neck."

"Hey, why don't we just calm down and –"

A loud thud. A beat in the silence. Then came a groan, a drawn-out, horrible groan, the raw sound of a creature in pain –

I stopped dead, my heart banging.

"Rae?" Mrs Taylor was looking at me, impatience sharpening her features. "Come along. What are you standing there for?"

"Someone's – someone's hurt, Mrs Taylor," I gabbled. "A man. Didn't you hear? Right here, nearby. I think he's hurt. We've got to do something, we –"

"That, Rae," Mrs Taylor interrupted. "is not our problem. Our problem is that we're going to be late for the most important dinner of the year." She arched her brows at me. "Yes?"

It was out before I could stop it. "No. I've got to -- I – I can't -- "

She sighed. 

"I wish you'd be more responsible. But as you wish. Phone 999 if you like. But do hurry. We're going to be so late."

It was going to be too late anyway. But I didn't have the stupid dinner in mind.

If I stopped to call the police and waited for them to arrive, it would be too late for Kal.

I knew it in my bones.

"No. I'm going to go have a look," I said. The words clawed their way up my throat, unbidden. Adrenaline was flooding my bloodstream. "See what I can do to help. Don't you understand?"

Some distant part of my brain was aware that my panic was completely nonsensical. It didn't match what I'd been feeling these past weeks – the desire for revenge, the rage, the bitterness. I didn't know what had come over me. I just knew I had to do something.

Anything.

Angry shock flashed over my boss' face.

"Rae, I'm warning you. If you don't stop this silly nonsense this minute," – a meaningful pause – "you're fired. I'm not joking. Stop larking about, come on."

I couldn't walk away, just like that. I wouldn't walk away.

Sometimes there's nothing you can do.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Taylor," I said. I didn't mean it. "But I can't."

The look on her face was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in a long time.

"Rae!"

"Fired! You're fired, miss Carrows!"

Her shouts followed me as I turned my back on her and darted between the two rows of gloomy houses and through the graffitied tunnel. I don't think I even registered her voice or what was happening, not fully. I was possessed by this insane urge to run forward.

Towards Kal.

In front of an abandoned parking lot I saw a huge bull of a man, tattooed all over. He was looming over a slumping form on the ground, and my heart missed a beat. I skidded to a halt.

"Miserable little rat," the man snarled. He swung his leg forward with brutal force, connecting it with the figure doubled up under him, once. Twice. The man on the ground writhed. Cried out. My stomach liquified. "Thinking"-- clunk – "you can make"- clunk, a scream – "an idiot" – clunk – "out of me."

I won't lie -- I was scared, then. I was so scared.

My breath was coming unevenly but I managed to croak out: "Leave him alone or I'll call the police."

The human started in astonishment. He whirled around. When he saw me, all the tension drained out of his bearing. He smiled at me with a mouth full of brown teeth.

"This guy and I were having a small – disagreement. Nothing to worry about. None of your business. We don't want to get into trouble, do we, a pretty lass like you, eh?"

He was already turning back to Kal, dismissing me. Kal was struggling to prop himself up into an elbow, his every movement jerky. Vaguely, I marvelled at how high his pain threshold was. Our gazes locked. A small breathless gasp from him. His face was dark with blossoming bruises, his right eyelid so swollen it had slid shut.

Maybe it was the scorn in the attacker's voice. Maybe it was because I saw myself in Kal, lying broken while people strolled by and coolly stepped over you. I'd have given anything to have someone brave enough to stand up for me, all those years ago. Maybe it was the look in Kal's eyes, one that I'd never glimpsed in him before, that I'd never imagined I'd see.

He was pleading.

It was all of those things, and none of them.

"Girlie," the attacker snapped. Kal was by no means short or spindly, but this guy was built like a bull on steroids. He'd beat him to a pulp. "Run along now. Do what you're told."

Rage rose in me. "Fine," I said. Sebastian the dagger was slippery with sweat in my hand. This time I'd remembered to pack it.

Time slowed.

It was never o'clock, and Kal Mellketh was alone.

I had to help him.

I shouldn't help him.

If I didn't help him, he would die.

If I helped him, I would have failed at my task. I would break my promise. I would betray my parents and myself.

I hated him.

He made me laugh.

He'd tried to kill me.

He was mesmerising.

He was an angel.

He was mine. He was my destiny.

I lifted my hand and hurled the knife through the air.

It buried itself right into the attacker's chest. For a moment he eyed me, bewilderment on his face. Blood burbled from his chest. Then he clutched at himself and collapsed headfirst into the concrete of the parking lot.

What had I done?