‘It’s alright,’ I told her. ‘It’ll help.’

To show her, I put the bottle to my own lips and took a quick swig. It was surprisingly mellow. I swallowed and held the bottle out to her again. Her expression seemed resigned to whatever fate I was about to deal her and she tilted back her head. I tipped a small amount of whisky in her mouth; her face screwed up at the taste but she let it slide down her throat. Her lack of tongue didn’t seem to make any difference so I gave her some more. By the second swig, she seemed to be warming to the taste.

I took my jacket off and pulled my T-shirt over my head. Despite her fear, the Fomori demon goggled at me. Given that she was naked, she’d probably assumed my clothes were part of my skin. My T-shirt had protected my torso from the worst of the Clyde and I was aware of how strange I looked – black hair, black face, black neck, white middle and black legs.

I poured a tiny amount of whisky onto the T-shirt’s sleeve where the water hadn’t seeped through so much and used the underside of the material. I kept adding more, making the spot as sterile as I could, then held it towards her wound.

‘This is going to hurt,’ I told her. I grabbed hold of her hand and she stiffened, clearly waiting for a blow. When it didn’t come and I squeezed her fingers in reassurance, she relaxed slightly. Then I pressed the whisky-sodden material to her neck.

She yelped but cut off the noise herself by clamping her free hand over her mouth. She wasn’t stupid; she knew what would happen if more demons heard her and came running. I wiped away as much of the blood as I could, hoping the alcohol would prevent any infection.

There was a faint mark on her shoulder, a tattoo. A tattoo of a small Scottish lion on its hind legs with its front paws splayed out into the air. Shaking my head in confusion, I pressed the material against the demon’s wound and moved her hand up to hold it. ‘You need to keep it like that until the bleeding stops.’

She blinked at me and I sighed. I pushed down on her hand once more, trying to make her understand. When I finally stepped away, she kept her hand in place. I nodded, satisfied. ‘I have to go,’ I told her. ‘I can’t stay here.’ My eyes drifted down the street. If those others demons came back… ‘I’m sorry.’

She jerked suddenly and I leapt back, alarmed. She pointed at her chest and made a strange sound. I frowned, suddenly realising what she was doing.

‘Ay? That’s your name?’ She shook her head and tried again. ‘Bay? Hay?’ Damn it. ‘May?’ The demon nodded vigorously. ‘May. Your name is May.’ I met her eyes. ‘It’s nice to meet you, May.’

Her face twisted into a strange semblance of a smile. I smiled back until she moved her hand away from her chest and pointed behind me. I turned round but the long street was still empty.