“Take the shotgun,” she said.

“Seriously?”

Still not taking her eyes off Bone, she nodded. Dane unlocked the shotgun secured between the front two seats. He held it awkwardly, as if he’d hardly used it before. He’d stopped making quips.

“Coming?” the sheriff asked.

“No,” Bone said. He’d made a decision. To prove to Jordan that what he’d said about Mallian and the infected Kin was true, he had to prove it to these cops as well, and do so without getting them killed. Venturing down there would doom them all. “We can’t go down into the valley.”

“What have you really seen?” she asked. “It’s not rabid dogs or drug users, is it?”

“Neither of those, no. We just need to get something on camera to show my superior and then—”

“Lily!” Dane said. “Something out there.”

Bone’s heartbeat immediately jumped. He stared through the security grille and out the front windscreen, past where the road ended and onto the flatter expanse of grey. Nothing moved.

“You better tell us what’s out there quickly, Bonham, or we’re straight back to the station and—”

“There!” Bone said. “Ahead and to the right.” It wasn’t Mallian, Bone knew that right away. Maybe it was what his father had become. The shape was small and fast, darting right to left down the hillside, little more than a shadow.

“Deer,” Dane said.

“Deer don’t move like that,” the sheriff said. With one more glance at Bone, she opened her door and left the cruiser. When Dane did the same, Bone reached for the door handle and realised his error. He was locked inside. Of course he was.

“Don’t go too far!” he called. “Just get something on camera and then—”

Dane slammed the door and walked into the cruiser’s headlights. The sheriff was off to the left, aside from the lights and at the edge of the grey, shielding her eyes and looking down into the valley. Dane stood with the shotgun held in one hand by his leg, casual and confident.

Bone rattled the door handle.

Something flitted past the car. It scraped claws across metal as it went, causing a piercing shriek, and as Dane and the sheriff spun around it disappeared into the trees to the right.

Bone watched it go. It was Francine the werewolf. He wound his window down and beckoned Dane back to him.

“Quietly!” he said. “Quick and quiet, they’re playing with you, you have to—”

“You damage my cruiser and I’ll ram this inside you,” Dane said, swinging the shotgun up and holding it across his chest.

The figure that rose behind him blocked the headlamps and cast a huge shadow, a towering, shimmering shape that danced across the valley as it stepped closer.

“Holy fucking—” the sheriff said, voice cut off as she was swatted to one side.