Night Terrors by Helen Harper

skulking from one rooftop to another to keep myself hidden – but then the element of surprise was on my side. I don’t know what the Mayor told the rest of the Department goons about me but I reckon that if they’re worth their salt, they’re going to be looking for anyone darting around furtively. I’ve probably got a better chance of staying concealed as the dreamweaver if I walk openly through the town rather than clamber around in the shadows.
    My suspicions are confirmed when, rounding the first corner, I catch sight of a shadow from above that’s definitely not part of the building. The Department has posted look outs.
    I remind myself to breathe and walk normally. I relax my shoulders and swing my arms. I’m almost tempted to whistle but that would probably be taking things a step too far. The trouble with consciously trying to look normal is that every step and little movement ends up becoming entirely abnormal. I keep my expression blank and try not to overthink what I’m doing. I’m only walking; there’s nothing strange about that.
    ‘Hey!’ There’s a sharp call from my left. No doubt the eagle-eyed watcher up on the roof has signalled my approach to a buddy.
    I look round. Casual, Zoe. Act casual. ‘Hey,’ I say, calling out in a surprised tone to the frowning figure that is approaching me.
    He makes an odd gesture with his thumb and ring finger, pressing them against each other. I stare, confused and he abruptly drops his hand. ‘What are you doing here?’ He has a faint accent, maybe Eastern European though I can’t be entirely sure. Accents were never my strong suit.
    I furrow my brow and look innocent. ‘Excuse me?’
    ‘It’s the middle of the day. What are you doing here?’
    ‘Ohhhh.’ I nod sagely as if I’ve just worked out what he means. ‘Night shift. I usually end up here during the day.’ I shrug and give a disarming grin. ‘It’s crap, I know. Things are far more fun around here when there are other people about but I’ve got to make a living. One more month and I reckon I can persuade my boss to let me switch to day work.’ I silently congratulate myself. I’m becoming quite the consummate liar.
    I cock my head and eye him curiously. He’s in his late forties, judging by the liberal sprinkling of grey hairs in his hair and beard. He has tanned skin which is so smooth that it has to come out of a bottle, and a small scar above his eyebrow. I note that his fingernails are perfectly manicured.  Not only is this someone who takes care over his appearance, he also probably has time and money to spare.
    ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,’ I say lightly. I stick my hand out in a friendly gesture. ‘I’m Zoe. What are you doing here?’
    He gazes at my outstretched hand as if it’s covered in flesh-eating bacteria. I take the hint and drop it. I’m not particularly offended; I don’t want to touch him either. ‘There’s a meeting tonight,’ he grunts, without introducing himself or answering my question. ‘You need to be there.’
    ‘A meeting?’ I evince as much surprise as I’m capable of. I didn’t spend enough time around here before the Mayor died to know whether meetings are a typical occurrence. ‘I can’t make it. I told you. I work nights.’
    With stunning speed, he grabs me by the throat and slams me against the nearest wall. My spine, which has only just started to recover from Lilith’s blow, screams in agony. ‘You will be there or I will hunt you down. I will find out everything about you and I will make your life a living hell.’
    I squeak. I can’t talk, not with his hand wrapped around my neck.
    ‘Understand?’ he snaps.
    I nod mutely.
    He releases me and jabs a finger in my face. ‘I’ll be looking for you,’ he promises. Then he stalks off.
    I cough as I watch him depart. The viciousness and speed of his reaction shocked me. For all his faults, the Mayor’s menace was steel lined with silk. This guy