THE ROAD THAT EVENTUALLY became Main Street was the road they had taken into town, but it veered and meandered on its way there, and it was quicker to just cut through the trees. The instant she moved out of sight, Amber let the change happen, and she shifted and gritted her teeth against the pain in her hands. A few seconds was all it took for the throbbing to fade, though, and then she was feeling a whole lot better about a whole bunch of things – the town, the cold … even the Hounds’ arrival.

How tough could they really be, anyway?

She hurried, though. She didn’t like the idea of Milo facing them alone. Together they’d have a chance. Together they might even win. The idea made Amber smile. The Shining Demon could send whoever he wanted after her. She liked the thought of sending them right back again.

Her human side tried whispering in her ear – something about overconfidence. Amber ignored it. She knew what she’d heard. She knew the Hounds were pretty much unstoppable. She knew, technically, that she and Milo would barely be able to stand up to one of them, let alone five. These things didn’t matter. What mattered was how she was feeling right now, like she could take on an army of Astaroth’s lackeys and tear them all apart.

As she ran, she started to hear motorcycles. No shouts, though. No gunshots. No sounds of fighting. She left the trees, stepped on to the overgrown grass that lined the road, where she could see exactly where she was going and there was no danger of her passing the town boundary. She glimpsed the Charger, parked in among a clump of bushes, and looked around for Milo.

Amber got low and crept forward. She could see the Desolation Hill sign now, and the track that ran off to her left. A biker came roaring up that track and she went instantly cold and all her assurances abandoned her. He slowed to a stop and was joined a moment later by another one. The first Hound had a beard and the second one didn’t. The first was in denim and the second in leather. They both wore sunglasses. The first one’s bike was gleaming chrome. The other one’s was black. Neither of them spoke.

She couldn’t take them on. Not the Hounds. With or without Milo. They were the Hounds of Hell and they were unstoppable and they were pitiless.

She heard another engine coming from behind and flattened herself in the grass as a car approached. It passed her, and the bikers parted so it could get by. She watched the driver of the car peer at the Hounds. The Hounds never even glanced at him.

“Curious bastards,” Milo said from beside her, and she nearly screamed.

He was still in human mode. Amber didn’t know how he could stand the itching.