Jim perched on the edge of the cabin bunk with Pikoo on his lap. Appleby Spencer had requested he take Pikoo back to India. In an ideal world, he would return the inquisitive little creature to Bunny. If they found her. Otherwise, he'd have no choice but to release him into the wild.

He fed the mongoose a piece of dried sprat and stroked his back. "I expect you miss your mistress, eh, Pikoo?"

The mongoose squeaked and gave his hand a gentle nibble, then looked up at him with glassy green eyes.

"You'll be reunited soon. Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me. Come along, back in your cage." He placed Pikoo inside the travel cage and secured the hatch. "Don't look at me like that. I'll be back soon. It's mutton for dinner. I'll pinch you some from Freddie's plate."

He retrieved his coat and made his way through the airy steamship. Amidst the potted yuccas and soft chatter in the lounge, he found his travelling companions. Westman sat on a leather sofa, passing the time with a newspaper, while Blinks and McKusky set up a card game on the coffee table.

"How's that ferret of yours?" asked McKusky. "Still secure?"

"Mongoose, McKusky. It's a mongoose." Jim pulled up a chair and sank into the seat. "And yes, he's safe and sound in his first class accommodation."

"Good to know. Turn your back on a ferret for a second and it'll be straight up your trouser leg."

Blinks dealt out the cards. "Are you in, sir? We're playing Old Maid."

"I'll sit this round out," said Jim. "I might go up on deck shortly, take some sea air."

The chink of cups on saucers and the aroma of tea and honey-biscuits permeated the passenger lounge.

Westman lowered his newspaper. "The captain says we're approaching Portugal."

"One thousand miles down, only six thousand to go." Jim leaned back and linked his fingers behind his head.

His thoughts turned to Bunny. Millicent had assured him she was unharmed, but that was a week ago before he left England. Fingers crossed she was still all right. Bunny was a capable girl. Surely she'd endure this in one piece? A dark doubt crept into his mind. The truth was, even the pluckiest of young women would be hard pressed to survive a werewolf. Were they grasping at straws?

"That's a new expression," said Westman.

His comment made Blinks and McKusky glance up from their game.

"What expression?" asked Jim.

"By the look on your face, I'd say you're anxious."

Jim banished the telltale crease from his brow and affected a smile. "Not anxious, just considering all possible outcomes, that's all."

Westman folded his newspaper and set it on the seat beside him. "I know we don't have much of a plan beyond finding Miss Spencer's cantonment at Chagra, but the British army will know what to do."

McKusky peered over his cards. "At least we have one advantage. Of all the supernatural dangers we might have faced, we can actually see this one. Werewolves are flesh and blood, unlike your demons, ghosts and sprites. We don't need magic chants or holy water. Just a gun and the silver shackles I packed in the trunk."

"Courtesy of your mysterious acquaintances." Jim leaned forward. "Tell me more about your secret society, McKusky. Who are the London Shadows?"

A smile played at the corner of his mouth. "You know I can't tell you that. If I did, I'd have to chuck you overboard to the sharks afterwards."

"I don't understand all the secrecy. We both want to keep people safe from the paranormal dangers in the world. Can't you at least tell us how many members you have?"

"Not many."

"How old is the society?"

"Not that old."

"Where are the headquarters?"

"London."

"Who's in charge?"

"Hah!"

Jim sighed, relenting in his interrogation, and sagged back in his chair. He consulted his pocket watch. They were still running on London time and dinner was an hour away.

"I'm going for some air." He stood and headed for the companionway.

Up on deck, the Atlantic breeze flapped his coat around his knees, and he leaned on the guard rail. A lady and gentleman strolled in the lantern light, then disappeared below deck, leaving him alone with the foaming sea and salty evening air. The moon was out, watching over the world. Its glow bled into the black sky, forming a bright corona amongst the scattered stars. A haunted feeling skittered along his spine.

Bunny was out there somewhere. And despite what he'd told Westman, he was worried. The cold draught picked up, cutting through his clothes, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Something smooth brushed his fingertips; the surface of an envelope. Curious, he pulled out the letter and immediately recognised Bunny's valentine.

He tapped the envelope against his palm and peered out into the night.

I'm sorry, Bunny. I'll find you, I swear.

***

Five weeks later

The passage to India passed slowly aboard Singh's steamer. Winter faded in their wake, giving way to the baking temperatures of the Arabian Sea. Bunny fanned herself in the shade of her cabin, drinking a glass of water. After the disastrous night aboard, when they'd almost lost Anju in the storm, they'd agreed to let Singh think he'd won. There had been no repeat of his aggressive behaviour, and the werewolf they'd glimpsed hadn't resurfaced.

Singh continued to meet Anju at meal times, making polite conversation. But Bunny was acutely aware of the beast lurking beneath the young man's surface. Signs slipped through in the way he ate, or when he climbed with agility up the companionway. Occasionally, a yellow gleam pulsed in his eye. And when the moon was full, he disappeared to his cabin.

Anju sat on the edge of Bunny's bunk, her voice hushed. "Sujit is bound to let down his guard eventually. Then we can escape."

Bunny sat forward. It was the first time Anju had mentioned escaping since the night of the storm. "What about Gupta? He watches our every move."

"Don't worry. Soon we'll be on dry land, then it will be easier to run. We reach Bombay in less than an hour, and after that we travel by train to the palace."

"Twenty miles from Chagra."

"Yes. But if we reach the Chandni Mahal, it may be too late to escape. The palace will be guarded, and who knows how many more wolves reside there."

"There must be a way out of this nightmare." Bunny plucked the front of her tunic, releasing the trapped heat. "When we reach Bombay, stay close to me. The moment we get the chance to escape we'll take it. We have to get back to the cantonment, Anju. I need to know what's happened to Papa."

"We will." Anju reached out and covered her hand with her own.

She squeezed her friend's hand, then hugged her. They'd come this far, and they were still alive.

Drawing back, Bunny said, "Let's go up and watch for the harbour."

Anju managed a smile, and together they went up on deck.

India appeared in the distance. The sun hung low over Bombay, making the coastline shimmer in the haze. Across the skyline, birds swooped, dipping over the grand Port Trust buildings and the Bori Bunder railway. Boats drifted across the waterfront, and even from a distance the bustle was evident. Bunny had grown used to the taste of salt on her lips over the voyage, but now the cloying smells of Bombay filled the air. Rotten seaweed and horse dung, mingled with export spices and mountains of freshly cut flower-heads. Jasmine and marigolds. And she'd never welcomed such a disgusting combination in all her life.

She was almost home.

Singh came on deck dressed in a silk sherwani. Gold embroidery decorated the trouser suit, glinting in the morning light. It seemed he'd left his adopted English ways behind in his cabin. Now he appeared every inch the son of a maharaja.

He stood beside Anju. "I didn't think I would be back here so soon."

Anju stiffened at his close presence.

Singh leaned close to her ear and continued to speak softly. "Soon we will be afforded more privacy. It has been difficult to speak openly when my father's servant never leaves my side."

She glanced up and followed his line of sight towards Gupta. The older man directed the other two servants to bring up the luggage.

Anju's brow creased. "I thought Gupta was your servant?"

Singh shook his head. "No. He works for my father. So do Madhur and Lala over there. They were lost wolves my family took in many years ago. Sit beside me on the train later."

Bunny read the reluctance in Anju's face, and she couldn't blame her. But their plan to escape relied on keeping Singh appeased. Anju agreed and looked away.

When the ship docked, Madhur ran out the gangplank, and Singh led their party ashore. The other servant, Lala, carried the cases. He moved clumsily down the plank, his shoulders slumped and a wide smile fixed on his face. Gupta steered Bunny towards the railway terminus, his fingers crushing her arm. There was no relief at the sight of familiar white kurtas, the sound of Hindi shouted down the platform, or the feel of Indian soil beneath her slippers. He shoved her between bodies stale with sweat until they reached the express train.

"Gupta," said Singh. "The girls will travel with me."

"But, highness-"

"The carriages are small. More than three passengers to a compartment will be uncomfortable. Anju and her companion are my guests so they will sit with me. You can travel with Madhur and Lala."

"Your father-"

"My father would remind you of your place. Which is with the other servants."

Gupta's face pinched with irritation, but he curbed his tongue. "Yes, highness."

While Madhur and Lala loaded their luggage, Gupta escorted Bunny to her seat. Two wooden benches spanned the compartment, running beneath the windows. She sat, waiting for Anju. The express train was a far cry from the luxuries of the steam ship. She fidgeted against the uncomfortable wall.

Singh led Anju to the other bench. "Forgive the poor travelling conditions. The train is not the most salubrious way to travel, but it is by far the quickest." He turned his steely gaze to Gupta who lingered in the compartment. "You can leave us now. Make sure the other two are onboard."

Gupta's jaw tensed, then he turned on his heel and left the carriage.

The train's whistle blasted, warning passengers of its impending departure. Steam wafted past the open windows, and Anju looked warily at Singh. She drew her scarf over her forehead before turning to watch the cloudy platform.

It wasn't long before the train set off, bound for the north. Lush greenery drifted by, broken now and then by dry plains. By nightfall the temperature dropped to a pleasant northern climate. Bunny wondered if Uncle Appleby had written to her father's camp. She even entertained the idea he might seek help from Jim. He was aware the young man had saved her life once in the face of a werewolf.

The memory of their last meeting came to her – the walk to the cab-stand by The River Thames. It wasn't the first time she'd thought of Jim since leaving England. He was the sort of person one felt at home with, even when her father and her whitewashed bungalow were far away.

It was hard to consider Appleby might have informed nobody at all. And if that were the case, she and Anju were on their own. Bunny lay down on the bench and closed her eyes.

Her last words to Jim echoed in her mind. Will I see you again?

What does your intuition tell you? he'd asked.

She was too weary to think. After a while, the rocking of the train lulled her to sleep, but hushed voices soon pulled her back. She woke and kept her eyes shut, listening to Anju and Singh.

"Your friend sleeps," he said. "I hoped to speak to you. Until now, Gupta would not permit us to be alone. Intolerable creature. It is only because I challenged him at the station that he backed down. He knows not to create a stir in public."

"What is the need for us to be alone? Even Gupta knows it is not decent."

"Anju, I know you find me abominable, but please look at me when we speak." He waited. "Thank you. I wish I could say Gupta is concerned about propriety. But the simple truth is he doesn't trust me."

"What do you mean?"

"I left the palace to pursue science in London, and now he swears I'm a traitor conspiring against my parents."

Anju was thoughtful for a moment, then asked with caution, "Are you?"

His voice grew low and amused. "Would you like me if I told you it were true?"

The air bristled with tension. Could it be true? Bunny longed to crack open an eye, but resisted.

"No," said Anju. "I don't trust you either."

He laughed quietly and Bunny's hopes sank. To find an ally in the prince was too much to expect.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," he said, then his tone sobered. "I was a rebellious child, that much is true, but I was soon reminded about respect."

Anju fell quiet.

After a while, he asked, "Do you believe in astrology?"

"My parents did, before your father killed them."

He hesitated, then said, "The older generation cling to the old ways. For years I had to listen to my elders talk about our match. About how the stars scribe names in pairs across the black parchment of heaven. I grew up trusting every word they spoke of astrology, soulmates and kismet. But now, I'm a man of science. I don't believe a few old men with horoscopes can tell me my fate. Our match is just a fantasy."

"If you don't believe in this match, why are you doing this?"

"You know why. Duty, respect. My father is proud of our heritage, and the kingdom our ancestors built. Since the day I was born, he searched for others like us, for a girl like you to continue the bloodline. You are the only one he could find, Anju. Our kind are vanishing."

"That may not be a bad thing."

He paused. "If my father senses any reluctance on your part, there will be consequences for us both. You will be punished. As will I for failing to charm you into this arrangement. You know better than anyone what he is capable of."

"I think you must be very afraid of him."

"Me?"

"Yes. So afraid to fail him that you followed me into a raging storm."

"Really? What astonishing theories you have."

Bunny held her breath. What was Anju doing? This wasn't the time to challenge him.

"Our kind are strong but not invincible," said Anju. "You might have been killed in the storm that night. Is your father so frightening you would rather drown than return to him empty-handed?"

"That's not why I saved you," he snapped.

The words resonated in the air, gradually sinking beneath the drone of clattering wheels.

"Then why?" she asked.

"It was instinct, that's all."

"It is a very human instinct to help those in danger."

Clothing rustled and wood creaked when Singh shifted on the bench. Anju sucked a small breath through her teeth.

"We're not human," he murmured. "I may have saved you, but don't imagine for a moment I'm anything other than a diseased beast. That's all we are, our kind."

Anju's breaths trembled. "No, not all of us. I don't think you want to be a monster. Please, Sujit. You can let us go, pretend we escaped-"

"That is impossible." He moved away and exhaled. "Things will be easier for us both if you co-operate. When the time comes to face my father, will you do this?"

"I..."

"Anju, be certain of one thing. If you try to resist or escape, I cannot stop my father or his creatures coming after you. And believe me, they won't hesitate to tear you and your friend apart."

The conversation ended, and Bunny clenched her fists. Nobody made threats against her and her friend and got away with it.