Will Benedict ran like hell from the cafe he'd just been in, questions spinning through his brain like tumbleweed. Just behind him, his pursuers pounded the pavement at a frantic rate, their footsteps matching the frantic beating of his heart. What were they after? Why did they need him?

His gift was working perfectly; he could sense that these men were trouble. A fat lot of good that did him now, when he was running for his life.

He sprinted around yet another corner, skidded slightly on the paving stones, and pedalled wildly to keep going. He'd thought that a trip to London would be a chance to pick up hot girls- or who knew, his soulfinder- not to be picked up himself by a load of thugs.

There were better things that he could imagine himself doing at the moment.

Will sprinted around yet another corner and found himself in the middle of a shopping mall. Girls took one look at the tall, powerfully-built foreigner who was running down the road like a bat out of hell and either fluttered their eyelashes or got out of the way sharpish. Will was glad for that, at least. He didn't think he could cope with anything else right now.

Muffled bangs and screams behind told him that his captors were gaining on him. Breath scorching his lungs and setting his legs on fire, Will leapt a bench in one, and then used his power to raise it into the air- had anyone seen?- and fling it behind at his would-be kidnappers.

Too late to wonder whether he'd hit anyone.

The mall gave way to yet another street- small, narrow. He was soon out of it, and felt a sense of relief dawning on him. Had he lost them?

"He went down there! Stupid Yank!"

"Now we've got him!"

Will spared a precious breath to choke out a swear word. They were right. This was a dead end. A tiny square fronted by grimy windows faced him, the empty glass mocking his despair. No! It wouldn't end like this! Where were his brothers? They'd been walking behind him only minutes ago...had they been captured as well?

Quickly, he eyed up a window- the one which looked the weakest, paint flaking off it, hopefully worm-ridden. This was going to cost him a lot of strength. He focussed on the window panes so hard it hurt.

Then he tore them out of the wall.

Glass flew everywhere as the windows shattered, fragments flying everywhere. Will covered his face with his arms, listening to his breath rasping in and out of his throat, feeling the energy leave his body, and hearing with no small satisfaction the screams of his followers. It sounded pleasingly like he'd done them a lot of injury.

"Get him! Where's my gun?"

Oops. Time to go. Will vaulted through the empty window, swinging his legs up and into the room beyond just as an ear-splitting bang ricocheted around the bricks. Pain set fire to his shoulder and he toppled forwards, muffling a yell of agony as he crashed onto the carpeted floor.

"Did we get him?" Their voices, breathing heavily, were coming from far away now, echoing in his ears.

"Dunno. But he's not getting out of there alive. You know...it's that place."

"Better go then. I hate it there...smells of death."

"Only to Savants."

What?

"Yeah...Come on."
What place? What was going to happen to him? Had they put some sort of sedative in the bullet? Will tried to flex his fingers, and was dully surprised to find that they only moved grudgingly, as though they were moving through treacle. Slowly- agonisingly so- he forced his arm up to his shoulder, an inch at a time, and felt the downy feathers of a dart stuck there.

"Oh no." He breathed.

The door opened, spilling buttery light over his face.

Blackness closed over him.