The Twilight Circus Read Online Free

tried very hard not to think about the thousands of tons of solid rock above him, and what would happen if it all abruptly collapsed. Suddenly, irrationally, he began to feel panicky and hot. He glanced at Jude. There was a slight curve on her lips and Nat could feel her thoughts inside his own head. She was thinking about his dad, imagining seeing the reassuring bulk of him again after so long. Despite his feeling of panic at being underground, Nat got up from his seat and walked unsteadily through the carriage. It was cooler in the connecting sections between the carriages, and he sat on the floor sipping from a bottle of water until he felt almost human again.
    Twenty minutes later, when the train came out of the tunnel, Nat heaved a sigh of relief. He had just got to hisfeet to find his mum when the connecting door opened and he was joined in the little corridor by a man.
    The man nodded affably and Nat nodded back. The man smelled of worry and expensive aftershave. Nat guessed he had come from business premier class because he wore a sharp-looking suit. He had a nice face and floppy hair, which made him look younger than he probably was.
    â€œAmazing feat of engineering, don’t you think?” said the man in a posh but pleasant voice. “The tunnel, I mean.”
    Nat smiled and nodded just to be polite. He made to open the door, but the man put his hand out as if to bar his way.
    â€œExcuse me,” said Nat, mildly alarmed.
    â€œDon’t be frightened,” said the man hastily, withdrawing his hand.
    â€œWhy would I be frightened?” asked Nat cautiously. The man was harmless; Nat could feel and smell there was nothing to fear from him.
    The man gave a wry laugh. “Good Lord, it’s me that should be frightened,” he said, almost to himself. “You could probably knock me straight through the side of the train if you wanted to.”
    Nat decided it was best not to say anything.
    â€œWhat else can you do?” asked the man, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Telepathy? Can you change your shape?”
    Nat tried to keep his face impassive. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, “and I don’t want to knock you through the side of the train.”
    â€œYes, but you could if you wanted to,” insisted the man, smiling slightly. He held out a rectangular card. “Forgive me,” he said. “My name is Crone. Quentin Crone.”
    Nat privately thought what bad luck it was to be saddled with a name like that, but he took the card anyway. “
NightShift
?”
    Crone nodded enthusiastically. “Ex-MI5, now working independently to eradicate the increase in malignant paranormals.”
    â€œGood luck with that,” said Nat, feigning disinterest.
    Crone tried again, feeling slightly unsettled by Nat Carver’s presence. He was surprised and a little annoyed at how awed he felt.
    â€œNat Carver, I need your help,” he said. “I’d like to offer you a deal. You and the Wolven, Woody.”
    Nat was now seriously alarmed, but trying not to show it. He scowled. “See that man through there?” he said, nodding at a random passenger. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll tell him you’re bothering me.”
    Crone looked worried. “Just listen to what I have to say,” he said hurriedly. “If you still don’t want to know after you’ve heard me out, then forgive the intrusion, and I’ll leave you alone.”
    Nat said nothing, just glared at Crone with his unnerving dark blue eyes.
    â€œNightShift has no ties with the British government,” assured Crone. “We are funded entirely by a private benefactor. But we have a problem. All our operatives are human. If you and Woody would agree to help us, I’ll use my influence to guarantee you both amnesty and—”
    â€œNo,” said Nat firmly. “And my name is
not
Nat Carver.”
    Quentin Crone smiled