Kirsty screamed, then, a howl of pure anguish, and she dropped to her knees, holding her head and wailing. If Amber reverted right at that moment, she knew she’d actually feel sorry for her. Her childhood memories of the woman were good, for the most part. She had always seemed so glamorous, so happy. And Grant, the man whose blood was still on Amber’s right hand, had almost been an uncle to her when she was growing up. He had been the only one, out of all of them, with whom she could share a joke. And she’d killed him, she’d torn out his throat the moment he’d given her an opening.

If Amber reverted, all of this would stab at her heart.

Amber didn’t revert.

Kirsty got to her feet. She was unsteady, and wiping madly at the tears in her eyes. She turned then, walked back the way she’d come, and disappeared into the trees.

Amber searched her pockets for her phone, but couldn’t find it. It was down there somewhere, lost in the trees and the darkness. Typical. She started climbing again. She took it slow. The pain in her leg was lessening. By the time she reached the top of the incline, she wasn’t even limping anymore. She untied her jacket, wiped some of the blood off, and put it on. It was cold up here. She remembered the heat of Florida, the ever-present closeness of it, and she smiled. She liked the cold.

She reached the edge of Benjamin’s property and paused a moment to gather herself. She gritted her teeth and waited for the pain to come, and then she reverted.

Sure enough, a truckload of pain slammed into her and Amber moaned. It wasn’t just the fresh wound on her leg, either. It was her shoulder, too, and her ribs, and a dozen other bumps and bruises her demon-self had failed to register. She was limping again, too, as she walked up to Benjamin’s door.

Chapter 41

KELLY LEANED OUT OF the window, Grant’s gun held in a two-handed grip. She didn’t bother trying to shoot out the tyres of the cruisers giving chase down this narrow, winding road. Smaller targets were harder to hit – and she knew all too well the possibility of bullets just bouncing off that spinning rubber. Instead, she waited for her moment.

Novak was at the wheel of the car behind, of course he was, the demonic Chief of Police leading the pursuit, but his car was just a car, whereas the Charger was something else. It took the bends tighter, hugged the road closer, and when the cruiser veered a little too wide behind them Kelly pulled the trigger. She saw Novak’s demonically grinning face contort as he twisted, and the cruiser hit the shoulder and left the road.