“It’s taking all of your focus to stay in this form,” Novak continued. “So relax. Stop straining. Let your true nature reveal itself. Think of how good it would feel, to let go. To let it happen. Think of the relief.”

Amber started with, “I don’t know what you’re …” and then her words faded away. He knew.

Novak smiled at Amber. “There is another way it will reveal itself,” he said, and drew his gun and shot Daggett in the chest.

The shock passed through Amber quicker than electricity and she shifted even as she jumped back, her horns growing before Daggett’s body hit the floor of his cell.

“There,” said Novak. “Isn’t that better?”

She stared at him as he holstered his gun.

“I could tell you were uneasy,” Novak said. “Demons like you always are. Most of them wear their discomfort on their faces, but there are always a few who hide it better than others.” He looked at Milo now. “Mr Sebastian, it’s almost as if you’re ashamed of your dark side. Won’t you join Amber, in all of her glory?”

Milo said nothing. He hadn’t moved from where he was sitting.

Novak shrugged. “Tomorrow I’ll be taking you to meet the mayor. He has some questions he wants to put to you personally. For now, though, I’m going to have to bid you goodnight. I’ll have one of my people remove the carcass, don’t you worry, and you’ll get supper in half an hour or so. We don’t starve our prisoners, not in Desolation Hill.” He smiled for the first time. “We’re not monsters.”

Chapter 16

THE BALLOT BOX STOOD in the square like a miniature, badly designed lighthouse in a sea of concrete. But the very fact that it stood alone, that there was nothing else to distract from it, gave it a surprisingly unsettling aura at night-time. Kelly didn’t know quite how to put her feelings into words. Warrick did, though.

“That is one creepy piece of wood,” he said, peering out through the windshield.

Kelly didn’t like the way the road split to encompass the square, because it really didn’t seem like it was the square that was being prioritised here, but rather the ballot box at its centre. Suddenly the town didn’t feel quite so pretty. Suddenly it felt like there was something rotten at its core.

There was no one else on Main Street. It was a cold night, and the well-behaved people of Desolation Hill were all at home in bed. Well, most of them. Maybe even all of them – apart from one boy.

He was small, maybe eleven or twelve, but he carried a big baseball bat, and he was walking towards the ballot box like he was fixing to do some serious harm.

“We may be in for some vandalism,” Kelly murmured. “Should we—?”