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I OPEN MY EYES TO a dense, red static of pain. I crawl to the door: locked. She... hit me, didn’t she? Yes: I can see the bloodied fossil, discarded on the antique rug. I move on instinct through the pain, all thought pared to the essentials. Reach for the fossil, heft it in my hand, then use it to smash the window. I knock as many of the remaining shards from the frame as possible then step onto a chair and clamber through the gap. I’m vaguely aware of the sting of broken glass against my flesh, but it’s nothing compared to the agony of my head.

The drop onto the gravel path outside is farther than expected and I land badly. I stagger shakily to my feet, then half-run, half-stumble round to the front of The Manor, my vision blurring as though waterlogged. I can smell smoke. The heat seems even more intense now.

Then I hear the growl of an engine and glimpse the silver car, gliding along the driveway. The blonde figure behind the wheel.

All I can think is: she’s leaving. She’s escaping. It feels very important that I stop her. But I can’t think straight—everything’s clouded by the pain in my head. Could I jam the gates from here, somehow? No, there’s no time—

I begin to stagger toward the driveway, but it’s useless. There’s no way I can catch up. Someone’s gaining on her, though. A figure running from the direction of the woods. As they get closer I see Owen Dacre sprinting after the car, looking like a man possessed. And now I can make out the shadowy forms seeping from the other end of the trees, approaching the gate. After last night I’d know those macabre silhouettes from any distance.

“Oh my God,” someone says. I turn my head and see Eddie. “Are you OK? Your head—your arms... you’re bleeding. Come on, I think you should sit down...”

“Eddie...” I gasp, reaching for his arm. “She attacked me. And now she’s leaving. Look—”

The silver car slips inexorably toward the gates.

“I can’t let her go,” I say. “It has to be now, tonight. I have to stop her getting away with it again.”