The whole way to the Waffle House, I had to fight the urge to run. Anger boiled through my veins, making me twitchy and jumpy. Running would have burned off some of that negative energy, but I didn't want to turn up to a potential job interview with sweat patches and flyaway hair.

My mind replayed the scene over and over again - opening the front door and finding a dead rat nailed to it. My hands curled into fists. All this time I'd been blaming the neighbour's cat for the rats on the doorstep, but the truth was far more sinister. There was no doubt that all the rats were the work of the same sick mind, and there was only person that fit the bill.

Leon.

All this time I'd defended him and made plans to try and help him, and he responded by playing this twisted little game. What was the point of it? Caleb had been many things, but he'd never beaten about the bush. If he wanted someone dead, he'd go after them. He wouldn't stalk them and gift them with dead rodents. It didn't make sense.

Unless of course, Leon wasn't responsible. Even if what happened last night had helped him to track the clan down, the rats had been appearing long before then.

My eyebrows twisted into a frown. The pieces weren't quite adding up.

The Waffle House appeared around the next corner, the diner's name already flashing cheery neon despite the fact that it was still early. The sign on the door read WELCOME. Set against a scrubby patch of field that would probably become a housing estate one day, and surrounded by straggly clusters of trees, the diner looked like a bright piece of candy.

I paused outside and took several deep breaths, gathering up all the confusion and anger and calmly folding it away until I was ready to deal with it. The diner manager needed to think I was just a normal teenager looking for a job. If they thought I was anything else, that might blow my chances of getting finding work here, and I needed this job if I wanted to start saving for a future with Luke.

When I eventually plucked up the courage to go inside, I was greeted almost immediately by the manager, a twinkly-eyed man with so many chins that I suspected he devoured each dish on the menu on a regular basis. His name tag informed me he was called Arthur. I told him I was here to ask about a job, and he shook my hand with such vigour it was like he was trying to pull my arm off, and then asked me to come into the office for a chat.

The office turned out to be a little more than a closet, tucked between the kitchen and what looked like a locker room. It was occupied only by a small desk and even smaller chair that didn't look as though it would support Arthur's weight.

He sank into it with a huff of air, and the chair-legs emitted ominous squeaks. "Sorry, I've been meaning to get another one in here," he said, waving a plump hand at the space in front of his desk where another chair should have sat. "You don't mind standing, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Excellent." He rubbed his hands. "Now then, do you have a CV?"

Sudden panic assailed me. It hadn't even occurred to me to bring one and even if it had, what was I supposed to put on it? Previous job experience: vampire hunter. Personal skills: hand-to-hand combat and proficiency with weapons. I'd be lucky if Arthur didn't call the police.

He must have seen my stricken expression because he offered another wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. I'll just take down some details." He riffled through the desk drawers until he located a notebook and a pencil with deep teeth-marks at one end.

"Okay, kiddo." He pointed the pencil at me like a gun. "Name?"

"Kiara Morrow."

Arthur grinned. "Pretty name." Coming from someone else it might have seemed sleazy, but the only vibes I got from him were pure friendliness. He pointed the pencil at me again. "Age?"

"Sixteen?"

"You local?"

"Yes." For a moment I wondered if I should add 'sir' then decided that sounded too much like sucking-up.

He asked for my address next, and I couldn't help hesitating. With threats closing in on more than one side, my suspicion levels were nearing paranoia. But it was ridiculous to think that the big, jolly man in front of me had anything to do with Leon. He clearly wasn't a vampire hunter; staying in shape was a must for someone in that field. I rattled off Samuel and Elena's address before he noticed my hesitation.

"You got any experience, Kiara?" Arthur asked.

Inwardly I winced. This was when the interview fell apart. I'd never worked a job in my life - at least not the sort of job that I could tell normal people about - and it seemed unlikely that Arthur would want to run his new business with employees who didn't know what they were doing.

But there was no point lying. If I said I had experience, he'd ask where. He might even ask for references, none of which I could provide. Honesty was the best option.

"No, but I'm very willing to learn."

Arthur put his pencil down and steadily regarded me. I waited for him to tell me that there was no place for me here.

"What sort of hours are you looking for?"

"Anything you've got." A quick scan of the closing times on my way in had revealed that the diner stayed open quite late, but it wasn't as if I wasn't used to being up at night. I lived with vampires, after all.

"You're a hard worker?"

"Absolutely." I couldn't elaborate on exactly how without coming back to the whole vampire hunting thing, so I folded my hands in front of me and tried to look honest and hardworking.

Arthur tapped his pencil against the notebook. This was it, the moment when he asked a question I couldn't answer, or when he decided that I wasn't Waffle House material.

"Okay, Kiara, I'm going to give you a trial run. You show me you can do this, and in a couple of weeks we'll talk about a permanent position. How does that sound?"

I almost tripped over my words in excitement. "That sounds fantastic, thank you so much."

Arthur's pudgy face broke into a smile, and he reached out to shake my hand again. His palms were slightly clammy, but I was too excited to care.

"When do you want me to start?" I asked.

He cocked his head to one side. "How about this afternoon? There's a spare shift going if you want it."

It was sooner than I expected, but that was a good thing. The sooner I started, the sooner I'd be earning money. The sooner Luke and I could have the future I longed for.

I gave Arthur a mega-watt smile. "Just show me what to do."

Arthur showed me around the locker room where employees' uniforms and personal possessions were kept. It was a narrow strip of space filled almost entirely with a row of metal lockers and a wooden bench. It reminded me of the gym changing rooms at school, and I found myself flashing back to my younger years when I'd refused to take showers after PE, or wear anything that wasn't long-sleeved, even on a hot day, so no one could get a look at my scarred shoulder. That had led to some cruel speculation as to what I was hiding. The rumours ranged from a botched boob-job - despite the fact that my chest had barely begun to develop at that point - to a skin condition, to me being some sort of religious freak who considered bare skin immoral.

Spare uniforms were kept in a locker at the far end of the row, and Arthur fetched one for me before leaving me alone so I could change. I peeled off my clothes, and pulled on the red trousers and candy-striped shirt that comprised the Waffle House uniform. It was a little too big, hanging unflatteringly off my small frame, and I had the feeling Riley would laugh herself silly if she saw me in it. Still, it could always be worse. I tied the chequered apron around my waist, and headed out of the locker room to meet Arthur.

He gave me a tour of the building which didn't take long as there wasn't much to it, all the while informing me what my job would entail. From the sounds of it, most of my time would be spent behind the counter, taking food orders. That worked for me.

"I may try you out on waitressing in a week or two, but let's see how you get on with the till first," Arthur said, steering me towards it. "I've got another girl who handles most of the waitressing and she's very good at it. As soon as she's done in the kitchen, I'll get her to show you the ropes."

He'd barely finished speaking when the kitchen door swung open and a girl emerged, dressed in the same garish uniform as me, and with her dark hair secured in a silky ponytail. She saw me standing there and stopped dead, her eyes narrowing.

My stomach dropped like a stone. Out of all the girls in Dalwick, it had to be her, the one who hated my guts.

"Ah, there you are." Arthur beamed. "This is Kiara. She's on a trial run for the next couple of weeks, so I need you to teach her everything she needs to know, and make sure things runs smoothly."

Georgia managed a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'd be glad to."