The screech was cut off. The demon sighed and died, and fell forward, and the Hound turned his head, looked right through the window.

Suddenly Bill was grabbing Amber and hauling her to her feet. “We have her!” he called. “We have her for you! We did as Astaroth commanded!”

Amber tried to pull away, but Betty smacked her across the face, and when her thoughts managed to rearrange themselves into some form of coherence she was already being dragged out on to the street.

The Hound stood waiting, and when she was close enough he reached for her – and for Bill.

Amber jerked rigid at his touch, so fast that she almost snapped her own neck. She screamed, was only dimly aware of Bill’s screams adding to hers. Her body burned. Every nerve ending was on fire. She could feel her insides starting to boil.

Then it all went away and Amber dropped to the ground, gasping, the pain a memory, the heat fading as fast as it had arrived. Bill was beside her, shaking his head, trying to stand, trying to help his wife, who was dragging the Hound away from them. The Hound twisted, grabbed Betty’s throat, and slammed her to the road. Before his hand could start glowing, Bill charged into him and they went tumbling.

Grimacing, Amber got up. She watched her parents fight the Hound, watched them slash and strike and scramble up when they were knocked down. Then all of a sudden the Hound was coming for her and Amber’s eyes widened and she ducked his grab and raked her claws across his face.

His sunglasses fell and the Hound snarled. She recognised him. It was the one who had broken his own neck to get at her in the forest.

He lunged at her and Bill grabbed him and Betty came in low, ripped the Hound’s kneecap away with one bloody swipe. The Hound dropped to one knee and Betty seized his arm and Bill secured the other one, and Amber stepped forward and thrust her hand through his beard and dug her nails into the meat of his throat.

Then she tore it out.

The Hound made a gurgling sound and her parents released him. Both hands went to try to stem the flow of blood, but it was no use. He fell forward on to his hands and knees, then dropped to the ground and Bill stomped on his head until it splintered into mush.

The sound of a motorcycle made Amber turn, and a single headlight lit up all three of them. Another Hound. Jesus Christ, another one.

The bike stopped and the light cut off, and now Amber could see the Hound astride the machine, watching them.

Her parents ran. They didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to talk their way out of it. They just spun on their heels and ran.