IT WAS GOOD BEING back in the Charger. It felt right. The great black beast growled and roared at Milo’s touch and swallowed up the blacktop as they skirted the inside of the town boundary. They stuck to back roads, trying to stay out of sight of the cops. Every now and then, Amber would catch a glimpse of a motorcycle through the trees, the weak rays of evening sunlight glinting off chrome. The Hounds could sense the weakening barrier, it seemed. Another few hours and it would dissolve entirely.

“You’re upset,” said Milo.

Amber looked at him. She hadn’t bothered to revert. She didn’t see the point of keeping up the pretence this close to Hell Night breaking out. “I’m fine,” she said.

Milo nodded. She thought that was the end of it until he said, “You’re clearly not, though. Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

“Yes,” said Amber, growing irritated. “I told you, I’m fine.”

Milo looked at her, but didn’t respond. After a moment, she sighed.

“Let’s not do this, okay? This sharing thing. For a start, you don’t know how. And out of everyone – out of everyone – you should be the one person I know who respects the fact that when I don’t want to talk about something, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not a ploy to get you to ask me questions I secretly want to be asked. I don’t want to be asked and I don’t want to answer and I don’t want to talk about this. Is that okay with you?”

Milo nodded again.

“Thank you.”

He pointed out of the window, to the door of a small house they were passing. “What about that one? Is that interesting enough?”

Amber looked. “It’s brown.”

“Brown isn’t interesting?”

“Not in a door, no. Look for something with a design to it. Something that stands out.”

“Are you sure we can’t do this with one of Virgil’s doors?”

“No, I’m not. Maybe I could keep a normal, boring old door in my head, even when this black metal door is doing its best to sneak in there, but I don’t want to risk it. It’s easier, it’s safer if I have a door I can easily visualise to come back to.”

They passed another house. “What about that one?”

“What’s special about it?”

“It’s not brown.”

“It’s still just a door.”

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to find,” said Milo. “Most doors are just doors.”

“Look for a memorable one.”

“The longer we’re out here looking, the greater the chances are of the cops finding us.”

“I know that.”

“And this doesn’t have anything at all to do with Kelly?”

She shot him a look. “You prying?”