Moore sprang from the wall. She let him grab her, let him pull her in, and she fired an elbow into his face two, three times. He let go, but she didn’t, she latched on, kept firing those elbows, driving him back, never letting go of him. He tried to shout, but she hit him in the neck and he gagged. She didn’t give him a chance to throw a punch of his own, didn’t give him a chance to push her away. She was all over him, elbows and headbutts. In between his sudden yelps of pain she heard someone snarling, realised it was coming from her. She didn’t stop. She had blood on her face and it wasn’t her blood and she didn’t stop. This man had attacked her mother. This man had attacked her mother.

Kill him.

He was on the floor now and she was on top of him, her hands tightening round his throat. His strength was gone. His efforts to dislodge her, to break the stranglehold, were useless. He was weak and she was strong. The coldness inside her was burning. She was talking to him, her words scraping through gritted teeth, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying.

His hands fluttered uselessly around her arms. His eyes were rolling back. Blood and spittle flew from his mouth. He was turning purple.

Kill him, the voice in her head whispered.

She dug her fingertips in even tighter. This must have been how Melancholia felt when she held Valkyrie’s life in her hands. It was power, pure power, pure and beautiful. It filled her, energised her, mixed with her rage and made her smile, just like Melancholia had smiled.

Valkyrie frowned, saw her hands around his throat, saw Moore’s life about to leave him. Her hands sprang open and she staggered to her feet. He turned on to his side, coughing and sucking in great gasps of air.

The voice was gone now. Banished from her mind. She suddenly felt queasy, like she was going to vomit.

Moore dragged himself away from her, towards the far wall. Valkyrie’s hands were shaking. Her legs were trembling. Her head pounded.

“If I ever see you in this town again,” she said to him, “I’ll come back for you and I won’t stop. Stay away from this town. Stay away from my mother. Or I swear to God, I will kill you.”

He curled up and she left the cell. She retraced her steps, squirmed out through the window, barely getting outside before she threw up. Her legs were liquid, wouldn’t support her weight. The cops were going to find her out here. She realised she was crying.

A shadow fell over her, blocking the moonlight. Caelan reached down, took her into his arms like she weighed nothing, and carried her into the darkness.