“Boys, I don’t know who you think we are, but you’re wrong,” Zoe said, her eyes flicking between the five men threatening her and Mercy, her experience settling on the one in front of her as the leader, but the one at her back as most likely to turn and run if the occasion demanded. She settled herself more squarely on her feet.

“Oh, we’ve got the right ones. Saw you down in the square. Stirring up trouble.”

“We were having a perfectly legitimate debate,” Mercy put in, her voice cracking with apprehension.

“Nope. Stirring things up.” He took a step forward. “Making people question the natural order of things. Making them think maybe there’s another way. That we’re backwards here on Jericho.”

“Well, this ain’t hardly the civilised way of doing things,” Zoe said. “Waylaying two innocent women on their way home? What will the law say?”

“The law?” The man was suddenly in her face. “The law isn’t going to find out.”

The look in his eyes gave her such a premonition that Zoe wondered if she was the one catching the psychic gene now. “Let Mercy go.”

“No!” the young woman in question protested, even though her heart was beating a thousand times a minute.

“Why would we do that?” the man wanted to know.

Zoe’s voice dropped a level as she made the mental leap. “Because we both know I'm the one you’re being paid to rough up.”

He grinned. “P’raps you’re right.”

“Then let her leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you!” Mercy shouted.

“You will,” Zoe said.

“Maybe you’ve got us pegged, but the truth is, no-one’s going anywhere,” the man said, his face pulled into a sneer. “Neither of you. You’re both as bad as each other, teasing us, making us think you’re so easy, then not giving it.”

Zoe stared at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “All women are whores.” He flexed his hand inside the knuckleduster.

“We’re not afraid of you,” Mercy squeaked.

He turned on her. “You should be.”

Now, while his attention was diverted, while he was still intent on scaring,