There was an anguished scream from below and I flipped onto my belly and peered over the parapet. Two other demons had joined the female. One had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and was holding her so that her feet dangled in mid-air. The other spat indistinguishable words in her face, no doubt demanding to know why she’d made all that noise. She pointed upwards, her jaw working uselessly and nothing more than moans coming from her mouth. I pulled back as both Fomori males looked up and then there was another pained scream.

I sneaked another look. The demon in front of her launched a sharp kick to her stomach and she doubled over. The one behind stretched out his claw-like fingers and swiped at her neck; dark blood gushed from the wound, splattering onto the black earth. The first one spat something at her and stalked away in disgust. The second kicked her again and then did the same. She whimpered, curling into a foetal position. I rolled onto my back again, stared up at the clouds and breathed once more.

When I was sure the two demons had gone, I floated back down and started running down the street. I had to get out of the city – and fast. I’d barely gone fifty metres, however, when something tugged deep inside me. I sighed, slowed to a halt and turned around.

The female demon was still lying where the two pricks had left her. The wound she’d received to her neck looked pretty nasty – I didn’t know how much blood a Fomori demon had but unless her Gift was healing, she probably wouldn’t make it until nightfall. I sighed, then gritted my teeth and jogged back to her.

She didn’t even twitch as I approached. ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ I said softly.

She still didn’t respond so I moved a bit closer and crouched down. Taking a deep breath, I reached out and touched her shoulder to let her know I was there and I wasn’t dangerous. She flinched, cowering on the ground like the beaten thing she was.

I peered at her neck. That demon had bloody sharp claws; blood was still pulsating out and, even with the mess of ripped flesh, I could tell the wound was deep. She was lucky it hadn’t slashed into her jugular. I bit my lip and tried to work out what to do.

Moving back to give myself room – and because an injured animal is the most dangerous of all – I untied the harp and laid it carefully on the ground. Next I unzipped my jacket and took out the bottle of whisky. ‘Sorry, Taylor,’ I murmured.

I pulled off the top and edged back to the demon. She smelt really bad, a combination of wet dog and rotting flesh. Or maybe that was me. Ignoring her trembling recoil, I knelt down and motioned with the bottle. She stared at me with wide red eyes. I moved the bottle towards her and she flinched away.