Free Angel's Fury by Bryony Pearce

pictured Mount Hermon as an old-fashioned boarding school, with ranks of bunk beds lined against a wall.
    Seth opened the door on his right. The corridor curved ahead and I inhaled. ‘How many rooms
are
there?’
    Seth cocked his head. ‘Do you mean how many patients?’ I nodded and he shifted the weight of my bag. ‘These rooms aren’t all full. With you, there are eight of us: four girls, four boys. I’m the oldest, Lenny’s ten.’
    ‘That’s so young.’ I tried to imagine what it would be like to be ten and in this place, but a girl’s shriek interrupted me.
    ‘Kyle!’
    A door slammed, Seth grunted and I threw myself against the wall as a slim boy bounded round the corner. He looked like a miniature rocker, with spiked black hair, skinny black jeansand big boots. A grin split his lips and, although they were deep set, his eyes were a brighter green than the carpet.
    He wielded a camera phone in one hand as he skidded to a halt next to Seth. ‘My man!’
    Seth shook himself and glanced at my parents. ‘What’re you doing, Kyle?’
    ‘Double Dares.’ He tucked the phone into his jeans.
    ‘Not Lizzie’s stupid game . . . where is she?’
    ‘Where d’you think she is? Doing the boys’ side.’
    Seth frowned towards the boys’ accommodation and, I assumed, his own room. He opened his mouth, but just then a girl pounded after Kyle. ‘Get back here, you gargoyle. When I’ve torn off your arms I’m gonna smash that phone with the stumps.’
    ‘Gotta go, man.’ Kyle ducked past Dad and hit the doors running.
    When the girl saw us she dug the toes of her boots into the carpet to bring herself to a halt. She was bright red and shaking. Even the tips of her ears, rimmed with silver studs, were glowing. ‘I’m not finished with you,’ she shouted as Kyle leaped down the stairs.
    Moving closer to my parents I stared unashamedly. The girl was worth looking at.
    Her eyes were the colour of faded denim and lined with thick kohl. Peroxide-white hair was cut pixie short and spiked around her ears and forehead. It framed the studs that marched up her lobes and the single bar that bisected her eyebrow. She wasn’t wearing any other make-up. She hadn’t even tried to conceal the bags under her eyes.
    It’s like she’s proud of them or something.
    I scoped out her clothes. While Seth wore Diesel jeans and a pressed Superdry shirt, the girl wore faded, ripped low riders of no particular label in a style that had gone out of fashion two years ago. One tight top was layered over another in a way that almost, but didn’t quite, hide an ancient stain and she displayed a tarnished silver necklace in the shape of a dragon. I glanced at her hands and saw that she wore silver rings on every finger, even her thumbs.
    The anger faded from her eyes and she appraised me just as openly. There was silence for a beat then she raised her eyebrows. She didn’t hold out a hand, but gestured to herself with one thumb. ‘I’m Pandra.’
    ‘Cassie.’
    ‘The Doctor said you were coming. You’re in the room next to mine. I’ll show you.’
    Seth stepped forward and the atmosphere thickened. ‘Then you can take the bag.’ There was open hostility in his voice.
    Pandra sneered. ‘I don’t do baggage.’
    ‘It’s okay. I’ll carry it.’ I tried to take the bag from Seth, but he lifted it out of my reach.
    ‘Let’s just go.’ He glared at Pandra’s retreating back. It was obvious something had gone on between the two of them. My stomach lurched unhappily and I stomped the feeling down.
    I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, and anyway, why should I care?
    Pandra halted outside a closed door. ‘This is you.’ She rapped the wood with a closed fist. ‘Come and say hi once you’re settled.’
    She disappeared into the room next to mine. As her door closed I tried, and failed, to see inside. When I turned back I realised the whole party had watched her go, including Seth. She drew attention like a wasp at a picnic.
    I