The second Hound was approaching now, at speed. Amber could see Milo behind it, swinging wide on the chain. The road had ripped his shirt, and torn his boots and pants and underwear clean off. He was a bloody mess beneath it.

The key sank into the keyhole and hope flared in her chest. The Hound passed where she was crouching, dragging Milo with him.

Amber held her hands close together so as not to jar the key loose, and crossed the road and started up the next incline. Her legs were burning, screaming at her, but she kept going, kept climbing, aware of the other bikes now, roaring up from all directions. They could sense her close by, but if they had the ability to pinpoint her exact position she doubted she’d be able to keep out of sight like this.

They moved up and round the bend, joining the two in front. The incline levelled out and Amber sagged, took three deep breaths and shook out her legs, and ran through the dark from tree to tree.

The Hounds had left the road and had congregated in a clearing in the woodland. She stayed out of the glare of their headlights, her clumsy footsteps masked by the engines. They were off their bikes now. One of them took a bolt cutter from his pack. The others came forward, all holding chains. They knelt by Milo, obscuring him from Amber’s view.

She refocused on the key. Tried turning it, but it jammed. Sweat stung her eyes. She looked back up as four of the Hounds walked to their idling bikes, and heeled up the kickstands. Their tail lights bathed Milo in red. He was naked, with great strips torn from his skin. Around each wrist and ankle, there was a chain. The Hounds attached those chains to their bikes.

All the strength left Amber’s body.

The bikes moved slowly, inch by inch, in four different directions, until the chains went taut. Slowly, Milo was lifted off the ground. He opened his mouth, but his cry was drowned out by the revving motorcycles.

The fifth Hound, the one on the Harley, circled the lot of them, lazily waiting for Amber to surrender herself. The revving got louder. They knew she was there. They knew she was watching. The implication was clear.

Give up, or they’d tear Milo apart.

Chapter 23

SOBBING, AMBER RETREATED FROM the light. Her fingers trembling, she twisted the key again, then risked taking another grip and repeating the movement.

This time, it worked.

The cuff around her left wrist sprang free, and she gasped, and quickly rid herself of the handcuffs altogether. Then she shifted, and, as her skin turned red and her horns grew, her tears went away, and in place of her desperation came raw anger.