She heard gunshots from inside the barn now – Milo was exchanging fire. She rose up, just in time to see Woodbury coming through the door after them, a shotgun raised to his shoulder. He was a big, ugly demon and Kelly charged him without thinking. Before he could swing the gun her way, she pressed it against his chest and jumped. He watched her come, his eyes widening almost in slow motion, too slow to do anything but accept the inevitable. Her headbutt shattered his nose and turned his body to putty that collapsed beneath her even as she landed. She swayed slightly, seeing stars. Woodbury wasn’t unconscious, not fully, but he wasn’t getting up on his own any time soon.

Kelly had just taken down a demon. All right then.

She fell to her knees, her head feeling like it was about to split open.

Milo rushed over, kicked Woodbury on to his belly, then used his own cuffs to secure the cop’s hands behind his back. He shoved Woodbury’s pistol into Kelly’s hands, followed up with the extra ammunition, then picked up the shotgun in one hand and hauled Woodbury to his feet with the other.

“Stop firing!” Milo yelled, moving Woodbury to the door. “We’ve got one of yours! You make any move against us and he’s the first one to catch a bullet!”

The firing stopped.

Milo pulled Woodbury back and let him fall. He collapsed, his grin still on, but his eyes closed. Kelly closed her own eyes and covered her head, waiting for the gunfire to resume and really take this headache to the next level.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty.

She crawled to a bullet hole in the wall, peeked through. The headlights of the two cruisers were on, making it difficult to see, but she could just about make out the figures of the cops. They were talking to each other, discussing their next move.

“How long do you think we have?” she whispered to Milo.

He didn’t answer. He just reloaded his gun.

Chapter 42

AT LEAST THEY WERE SITTING.

The ground was hard on his bony ass, but at least Virgil’s back was propped up against the cellar wall. The shackles around his wrists were on long chains, too, which meant his hands could rest on his lap while he waited to be killed.

“Could be worse,” he said.

“You’re insane,” said Javier. He was hunched over with his back to Virgil, like he was four years old and sulking.

“Comfort-wise, I mean,” said Virgil. “We could be somewhere cold or damp, or we could be chained to the wall upside down.”

“Why would we be chained upside down?”

“I’m just saying, we could be.”

Javier swivelled his head, eyes narrowed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”