Amber batted Brenda’s hands away and crouched over her, started hitting. “Stop it,” she ordered. “Stop. Stop making that noise.” Brenda’s blood smeared against the scales that had formed around Amber’s knuckles. The wail stopped after ten seconds or so, but Amber kept punching, just to make sure she had shut up.

When she was done, Amber stood, ignoring the pain from her broken ribs and curling her lip in disgust at the pathetic mess that lay silent and still at her feet.

“Look at our little pride and joy,” said her father from behind her. “Did we or did we not raise her right, wife-of-mine?”

Amber turned without haste, glaring at her parents as they came over.

“We certainly did, husband,” said Betty, smiling. “I like to think this suddenly merciless behaviour comes from my side of the family.”

“Nonsense,” said Bill. “That look in her eyes is all me.”

Chapter 52

BUNCH OF GODDAMN SERIAL KILLERS.

Not even undead serial killers, either. They’d made no deals, they’d been given no powers … they were ordinary, garden-variety psychos, and yet they’d managed to capture Kelly’s whole entire goddamn gang.

It was embarrassing is what it was.

“Isn’t this great?” said the one called Sam, looking out of the window of the Chronicle office, across the snow-covered streets of Desolation Hill. “Isn’t it just awesome?”

The cords were digging into Kelly’s wrists and her jaw was hurting from where Sam had hit her, so she wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm. Sam’s fellow serial killers were there to pick up the slack, though.

“Look at them out there,” said Goulder. “See their teeth? Their claws? Demons, man. That’s gonna be us. As soon as this night is over, that’s gonna be us.”

Sure, they had guns, and sure, Kelly and the others had each stumbled across them purely by chance instead of being lured into some kind of ingenious trap … but that was hardly the point. The point was Kelly’s arms were decorated with enemies endowed with supernatural talents, and now it looked like she was going to be killed by four complete amateurs.

“I cannot wait,” said Demer. At least Kelly thought his name was Demer. He was the tallest of the men, and the skinniest. Sam had the worst haircut and Goulder was the heaviest. “I’m so frickin’ pumped for this. Am I ready? I was born ready!”

He laughed – a strange, high-pitched giggle that appeared genuine yet sounded false.

Beside her, Linda had her eyes closed and her breathing was slow and steady. Having her hands bound kicked up her claustrophobia, but she was dealing with it. So far.

“Y’all are celebrating before the job is done,” said Bowsher, scowling. Bowsher was the oldest, and the most serious, and definitely the one with the ugliest scowl.