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1

Mr Bishop is chasing Ralph and Jaime up School Lane towards Black Hare Road.

‘Get back here!’ he bellows after them and the tone of his voice chills Jaime to the bone. He sounds deranged with fury; outraged and incredulous, like he simply cannot believe they have the audacity to run from him.

Running away from an adult, let alone a teacher, let alone the head-teacher, goes against all of Jaime’s good-girl instincts. Her guts are a tight knot of dread and she can’t help picturing her mum and Mark in her head – the disappointment in their eyes when they find out. But she hears another sound, a low rumbling growl and when she looks over her shoulder, Jaime is horrified to see a large feline creature is chasing them.

She lets out a high-pitched scream that ought to wake the dead – but of course, there is no one about – how convenient, she thinks, no one to open a door or even a window to see what is going on. But Ralph grips her hand and holds on tight, and they race up the next road towards the safety of the book shop.

They tear down the back alley and look back to see the cat, a lynx, she thinks, is pounding after them. But suddenly it stops running and slows to a trot. It seems conflicted, its ears twitching, its tail low and stiff. It stops.

At the end of the alley, Ralph and Jaime look back and see the cat is turning around.

‘What’s it doing?’ Jaime whispers to Ralph.

‘I think it’s leaving.’

‘Come on.’ She grabs his sleeve. ‘The treehouse.’

They run towards the Finnis gate and bump headlong into Willow, who is clinging to the gate, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping. She grabs them when they appear, then tugs them frantically over the threshold and into the garden.

‘Mayfield,’ Willow pants, her shoulders heaving. ‘Chased me but then he left.’

‘Bishop,’ Ralph responds, breathlessly. ‘Same. Then changed course.’

‘Why?’ asks Jaime as they huddle together in the darkness and it hits her at the same time it does Willow. Their eyes widen in alarm and startled, they cling to each other’s hands and cry at the same time, ‘Paddy!’

2

Jesse cuts around the back of the town hall but before he can burst out onto Town Road and race across to Black Hare Road, he smells something new in the air – something old and heavy and powerful and hungry, and all his hairs stand on end – but he can’t stop running, can’t stop his legs in time. He runs into something solid and the breath leaves his body as he’s thrown backwards onto the ground.

Winded, he stares up, aghast, as the huge looming form of Sergeant Aaron Mayfield stands over him. The man who has haunted his dreams for as long as he can remember. The man who killed his aunt and his mother. He thinks suddenly, how? How and where did he kill her?

Before he can ask, Mayfield is shoving him down hard and his big black boot collides violently with Jesse’s ribs. Mayfield grabs his right arm and a pair of handcuffs is snapped over his wrist. The man is growling and drooling, his eyes manic and bloodshot as the beast struggles to get out.

Jesse is stronger now thanks to Margaret and as Mayfield reaches for his other arm, he brings up the right one and swipes at Mayfield with the dangling metal cuff. He swings as hard as he can and hears a crack followed by a groan. Jesse reacts fast, scrambling to his feet and aiming a kick at Mayfield’s backside as he rubs at his head. Mayfield staggers forward but does not fall. Jesse waves the knife at him.

‘You killed my mother!’

Mayfield turns slowly and grins at him. His lips lift away from his teeth and Jesse can see saliva strung out between them, glistening in his beard. The man reeks of primal animal hunger.

‘And I’m gonna kill you too,’ he laughs, lurching forward. ‘I should’ve killed you years ago!’

Jesse backs up warily, waving the knife. ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘It was too much fun playing with you!’ Mayfield sneers and runs the back of one hand across his chin. ‘It was fun making you run all over town doing whatever I wanted. But that’s done now. I’m not letting you join us, Archer. No way. Not a useless scumbag like you! You’re not fit to lick our shoes! You’re not one of us!’

Jesse shakes his head. ‘No, I’m not and I never will be. But I am gonna kill you, old man. Something tells me you should’ve died a long time ago.’

Mayfield laughs and lunges again. He grabs Jesse’s arm just above the wrist, close to the knife. He tightens his grip as Jesse struggles and his eyes widen when he takes in the knife. ‘Did she give you this?’

Jesse doesn’t answer. He swings the cuff again, battering Mayfield with it. ‘How do you do it?’ he screams as they both fall to the ground. Mayfield has both hands around his wrist and is trying to free the knife. Jesse hits him in the head again and again with the cuff. He sees blood fly but Mayfield does not seem to feel the pain or the battering. ‘What do you do to them?’ Jesse sputters as they wrestle for the knife.

‘We tie them down!’ pants Mayfield, wincing from another strike and loosening his grip on Jesse’s wrist for one moment. He recovers, using his knee to pin Jesse’s free arm to the ground. ‘In that spot in the cellar!’ he goes on, grappling for the knife as Jesse tightens his fingers around it. ‘We circle them and we all take a part of them, all of us! We take them apart bit by bit with our teeth and our claws and this knife! Give it to me you fucking shit! You’re not worthy!’

Jesse twists away, the knee pressing his arm down but his fingers scrambling at the ground, searching for a rock or a stick. His other hand grips the knife handle with immense strength, with something he didn’t know was inside of him, or something he does not recognise, refusing to let go.

Mayfield growls impatiently. ‘We take every bit of them, Jesse, is that what you want to know? What happened to Paddy and your aunt? Bit by bit, piece by piece and they feel every moment, Archer, every slice and dice and every amputation. Their blood flows and drenches the earth and we all join hands and say the words and their true form is set free… it’s not murder… it’s new life!’

‘Until you chase them down and kill them!’ Jesse yells, his fingers closing on the end of a fallen stick. He swings it at Mayfield but the knee is still in his way. He twists onto his belly and feels Mayfield rise on his back, still clawing at the hand that holds the knife.

‘That’s the fun bit!’ he leers. ‘Hunting them down and tearing them to shreds!’

Jesse lets the stick go and now clings to the knife with both hands. He bucks his back and Mayfield tumbles off and lands heavily behind him. Jesse knows he shouldn’t have that kind of strength, but he does, and he is determined to make use of it. Mayfield is still clutching his arm but Jesse brings up his own knee and boots him in the chest again and again until finally he feels the grip loosen. He rolls away as forcefully as he can and he takes the knife with him.

Mayfield rolls and grins at him through bloodied teeth. ‘Then we drink them, just like you did, Archer. You’ve got them all inside you too now, Paddy, your mother, your aunt!’ He throws back his head and howls laughter. ‘You’re gonna live forever whether you want to or not!’ Mayfield gets on his hands and knees. He lifts the back of one hand and drags it across his menacing smile. ‘But you don’t deserve it. It should have been you that was taken. Iris never liked me. Thought she’d wind me up by forcing our hand, forcing us to take Finnis!’

Rejuvenated, knowing it is now or never, Jesse staggers to his feet and spins around. Mayfield sits back on his knees and Jesse wonders if he should let him change or just go for it. He steps forward, knowing he can do this, knowing he is stronger for now, faster, smarter, knowing Margaret has faith in him and so do his friends. He runs at Mayfield with the knife and he sees where he will plunge it, right into the man’s exposed neck as he throws back his head and howls.

Jesse lunges with the blade and the tip is sailing like ice towards its meaty pulsing target when something comes crashing out of the bushes behind Mayfield. Something large and furry and snarling in rage. He feels huge paws thump into his chest and he is thrown backwards again, further this time and when he lands, not only is he winded but his head throbs from striking the ground so hard and the knife is thrown aside.

Shit, he thinks and closes his eyes.

When he opens them he is staring up into the snarling face of a huge lynx cat and somehow he just knows it’s the other man who has always loathed him, Mr Bishop, the headteacher. His claws curl tightly into Jesse’s clothes and the weight of him is pushing him into the earth.

He thinks, okay, I die now, but Mayfield is on his feet and striding over. The beast on Jesse’s chest releases its hold just long enough for Mayfield to pull Jesse’s wrists back together.

‘They’ve got the book,’ he snaps as he clicks the cuffs back on. ‘So we can’t kill him yet.’

The cat’s green eyes narrow and it stretches open its mouth to reveal what look like hundreds of razor sharp feline teeth. It hisses so loudly Jesse feels the breath whipping back his hair.

‘It’s okay, Mayfield goes on, giving the creature a stroke between its curved ears. ‘I give you permission to drag this piece of shit by the neck and as soon as we get the book back you can finish him off. Then we’ll eat him together.’

The cat seems to smile as it lowers its head and Jesse flinches away from the thick meaty smell of its breath as it stretches its jaws once again to receive him. He is unable to scream as several teeth puncture the skin of his neck and the blood begins to flow.

3

Willow, Jaime and Ralph group together under the treehouse. The bookshop and the flat above are dark and closed up. No help there. No sign of Paddy either. Willow lowers the spell book to the ground and unfolds the cloth.

‘Should we go out there and look for Paddy?’ Ralph wonders, chewing on a nail and looking around anxiously.

Jaime slips an arm around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder. He wonders if now would be a good or bad time to tell her how much he likes her…

Wind and rain are battering the garden around them and the dark town beyond. Everyone has gone inside – gone home – and Ralph thinks of his mother and swallows a small sob.

‘What about Jesse?’ asks Jaime. ‘He should be here by now.’

‘No, we’re all early,’ Willow responds, glancing at her watch. ‘We have to assume he’s safe because Margaret has plans for him. Its Paddy the beasts were after.’

‘But why?’ Ralph wrinkles his nose in confusion. ‘What would they want with him? Especially if Mayfield knew you had the book?’

Willow is flicking through the pages, poring over the Latin words with her brow furrowed in concentration. Jaime leaves Ralph and crouches beside her.

‘What are you looking for?’

‘A way to kill them or  a way to stop it all, but I can’t make sense… I don’t know Latin, damn it, these words or spells, they could mean anything!’

‘What about the protective ring?’ asks Jaime. ‘We might need to strengthen it is all I’m thinking. Or even expand it?’

Willow is shaking her head then thumps the book in frustration. ‘None of it is any use if we can’t read it!’

‘Better give it back to its rightful owner then,’ snarls a voice and they all jump and look up in fright.

Sergeant Mayfield is at the gate and a wild cat about the size of a Labrador is at his side. Bishop, Ralph thinks in dread – and worse – Jesse is with them, handcuffed and dangling by his throat from the cat’s jaws. Willow and Jaime leap to their feet, hands pressed over their mouths in horror. Ralph finds himself moving slowly forward, out from under the treehouse.

He’s staring at Jesse, long and hard and then he sees the boy’s eyes move, along with his chest. He is still alive. Ensnared, trapped, but alive.

‘A fair swap,’ Mayfield growls. ‘Toss us the book and your friend here lives.’

Ralph looks back at the others and Willow looks down at the book. ‘This is proof, isn’t it?’ she asks, lifting her chin. ‘It’s important to you because it’s the only thing that can prove what you’ve been doing for so long.’

Mayfield smiles at her coldly and tilts his head. ‘Clever girl. Give it back and your friend lives and I don’t arrest you for breaking and entering my house, again!’ He roars the last word, making them all jump back a step.

‘Let him go first,’ Ralph says. ‘We need to see he’s okay and then you can have your book.’ He inches closer and feels the girls doing the same behind him. Willow has wrapped the book back up and is holding the bundle under one arm. Ralph slides a hand around to his back pocket and slips his fingers inside to retrieve his pen knife.

Mayfield nods at the cat, at Bishop. ‘All right, drop him.’

The feline beast opens its jaws and Jesse drops to the ground, gasping and coughing. He lays on his front, his head turned to them, his eyes desperate and pleading. Blood surrounds his neck and pours down his front. What if he is dying, Ralph thinks, he’s dying and it’s already too late…

‘Now toss us the book,’ says Mayfield, but suddenly he steps back, eyes narrowed, head turning rapidly to the left, the right, the left again.

Ralph sees that something is moving in swift figure of eights around their feet. Something small and nimble. The cat has noticed it too and it lowers itself, its haunches lifting slightly, its ears flattening on its broad skull, while its chest, flicked with Jesse’s blood, draws breath in and out, and its short tail whips from side to side as if it preparing to pounce.

Ralph frowns – he can’t see what’s got their attention but whatever it is it is affecting Jesse too. As they look on in confused horror, Jesse presses himself up from the ground and sits back on his knees, sniffing the air like an animal. His frightened eyes are different now – keen and alert, hungry. He plants his cuffed hands in the grass and lowers his head, snarling suddenly, then lunging for something dark and fast that scoots out of the way.

Then Ralph understands.

It’s Paddy. He’s distracting them all, teasing their predator instincts so that they can do what needs to be done. It’s Ralph who seizes the moment. He pulls out his knife and flicks up the blade, grabs the book from Willow and tosses it under the treehouse. He shoves the wide-eyed girls towards the gate.

‘Get Jesse in the circle! Get him!’

The girls don’t argue and all three of them rush forward. Jaime and Willow grab Jesse between them, seizing an arm each and dragging him backwards. He struggles, whipping his head from side to side and growling to get free. Ralph sees his jaw snapping and hopes the girls keep their fingers away from his mouth.

They fall over in the struggle but Jaime grabs a leg and yanks hard and Willow wraps her arms around Jesse’s middles and wrestles him violently backwards. The lynx ignores Ralph and Jesse – its focus is now totally on the quick black hare that darts and leaps and twists between them. It’s too fast and agile for the cat and Mayfield, who is still in human form, turns and waves a dagger through the air, his eyes flitting madly as he tries to keep the hare in sight.

It’s all darkness, shadows and confusion but somehow Ralph forces himself forward into the middle of it all and while Mayfield is trying to snatch at the hare or stamp on the hare, he sneaks up behind him. Before he can think twice, before he can hesitate or question himself or back out in any way, he punches Sergeant Mayfield in the side of his thick neck with the small knife. It is only a short stubby knife and Ralph lets go almost instantly, backing away in horror as the lynx pounces on the hare. Mayfield’s hands flutter up to his neck and he tries to pull it out but he can’t; the handle is too short and slicked with his blood.

Ralph staggers away, back within the circle where Willow and Jaime are still wrestling with Jesse. The lynx does not notice Mayfield sinking to his knees, or Jesse writhing in the grass because the lynx has struck at exactly the right moment and has the black hare ensnared between its huge padded feet.

‘Paddy!’ Ralph hears Willow scream behind him.

Ralph continues to move backwards until he trips over Jesse’s thrashing legs and lands on top of him. He spreads out his arms, as if keeping all three of them safe under and behind him. He watches Mayfield fading.

The blood gushes, soaking his police uniform – glistening in the moonlight. His white hair is plastered to his skull by the rain. His hands fall away from the knife and his eyes go dull. Finally, he splutters and vomits blood before pitching forwards, face first.

He lies still. Everything goes still.

The lynx is frozen, facing them now with its prize hanging limply from its jaws. Everything is so still. Even Jesse has stopped fighting and growling.

Everything is still and silent.

Ralph blinks at the scene before him. Sergeant Mayfield with a knife stuck in his neck, blood pooling in the grass around him. The black hare hanging lifelessly from the jaws of a huge cat.

Willow cries out pitifully; ‘Paddy, Paddy, no!’

She disentangles herself from Jesse and Jaime and crawls forward but Ralph quickly blocks her – holding his arms out to both sides – his eyes fixed on the lynx.

‘Not yet,’ he warns her. ‘Mr Bishop is still here.’

4

Jesse pitches forward, his hands still cuffed, his head thick and foggy, he feels like he has just woken from a dark dream and he needs to shake himself. He feels Jaime let go of his arm and he moves forwards a few paces on his knees. The lynx stares right back at him – yellow eyes harsh and unforgiving as its lips seem to curl around the bloodied hare. Around Paddy.

Jesse flicks his hair from his eyes. ‘Put… him…down…’ he says, his voice juddery as tears begin to flow. He glances at the knife sticking out of Mayfield and remembers the one Margaret gave him. He moves forward on his knees until he reaches the body lying on the very edge of the circle.

‘Jesse, be careful,’ Ralph warns him.

He doesn’t care. He reaches into Mayfield’s back pocket and retrieves the dagger, then looks at the lynx, at Mr Bishop.

‘Put him down!’

Just then, a large bird swoops down from the stormy skies – it circles the garden twice, emitting a haunted mewing sound before it flaps slowly down into the alley, aiming its outstretched talons at the cat.

Margaret, thinks Jesse as Jaime turns to Willow and hugs her tightly and Ralph falls back to join them. The huge brown and cream buzzard flies at the cat, raking at its head and back with claws. The cat does not argue – it drops the hare, hisses then turns and lopes away into the darkness.

The buzzard follows it for a moment and then a figure appears in the alley, eyeing them all. Margaret. She looks solemnly at Jesse, who meets her eye before turning his gaze back to the limp body of the black hare.

‘Paddy… no…’ Willow whimpers behind him and he wants to go to her, go to all of them, but he can’t, he can’t move, can’t tear his eyes from the hare. His eyes burn into it, willing it to move, to live.

Margaret crouches and lays a hand upon its side. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, raising her head to meet his eye again. ‘I am so sorry.’

‘He saved us…’ Ralph murmurs from behind while Willow sobs, wrapped tightly in Jaime’s embrace.

‘Is he dead?’ Margaret nods at Sergeant Mayfield.

Jesse, the dagger trembling between his hands, looks down at Mayfield. Suddenly, the rage and grief consume him, washing over him in a torrent and he lifts the knife and slams it into Mayfield’s still body – again and again. He grunts and cries and swears and wants to run to Paddy, pick him up, hold him, save him. He wants to beg Margaret to do something. But he is rendered speechless by rage and grief and useless regret. He never told Paddy what their time together meant to him.

He feels Ralph touch his shoulder and ease him gently backwards. Ralph keeps an arm around him and searching Mayfield’s pockets, comes up with handcuffs keys. He turns to Jesse, takes his quivering hands and releases the cuffs.

Jesse covers his face and sobs.

It’s Jaime who speaks next. ‘What now?’ she asks Margaret in a voice that is surprisingly steady.

‘Well,’ Margaret raises her eyebrows. ‘You four get out of here and let me get this all cleaned up.’

‘What about Paddy?’ Jaime frowns, her voice shaking slightly.

Margaret’s face softens. ‘You can take him.’ She looks to Jesse. ‘Go on, go. You’ve all done enough. Been through enough. Go home. Look after each other.’

‘But what happens now?’ Jaime persists, as she gets to her feet, pulling Willow up with her. ‘With the rest of you? And the town?’

Margaret smiles back at her. ‘We keep going.’

‘You mean you get away with it, with all the missing children, missing strangers…’

Margaret shakes her head sadly. ‘There will be no more strangers. That was Aaron.’

‘Just a sacrifice,’ says Jesse, raising his head. ‘Every generation, right?’ He scowls at her. ‘Could be your baby brother or sister next time, Jaime.’

‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ she replies, glaring at the mayor.

‘Well, maybe not,’ says Margaret, standing and wiping her hand on her jacket. ‘Maybe it is time to change. After all, all four of you know our secrets and that places us in a precarious situation at the very least. But the town does need custodians. The town needs feeding. It will fade otherwise. Iris saw to that a long, long time ago. I’ll tell you everything, in time, but you must understand this, willing or unwilling, the town requires what we give it.’

‘No.’ Jesse shakes his head. ‘It’s not the town, it’s you. You’re all power hungry and selfish and you want to live forever. That’s what it gives you.’

She nods at him. ‘Yes, it gives us that so we can be custodians, but if we knew there would be replacements… willing ones…to do our duties after we are gone, then maybe it could be done differently. We will talk again. We will. But for now, you must go. You must bury your friend while I bury mine.’

Ralph helps Jesse to his feet and looks at the girls. They form a line and move forward together, weak, in shock, shaking as they link arms.

‘I’ll need the book back,’ Margaret says to them as they approach the gate.

‘No,’ Jesse replies first, shaking his head firmly. ‘Not yet. Not until we understand everything. Not until we feel safe again.’ He glances back at the bundle under the tree. ‘That’s our insurance policy.’ He fixes the mayor with a hostile glare before leading the others past her. She does not say a word as Willow crouches and scoops up the hare. They turn right and walk down the narrow alley together, crowded around Paddy’s body.

5

They go to the ruins. It feels safer – the furthest point from town and the closest landmark to Bob Rowan’s farm. The storm has abated and only a slight drizzle patters upon them as they shelter there together. They dig the hole with their bare hands, sending the earth deep into the nails and skin and then Willow lays the hare carefully inside.

They are all weeping as they take turns sprinkling earth on top of the body. They bury him, not talking, and then they reach for each other and hold each other tight in a circle above the grave.

‘This isn’t over,’ Willow promises them through gritted teeth and they all nod in reply.

Jaime and Ralph leave first, trailing wearily through town until the reach the Hare and Hound pub. Jaime is pale, her eyes glassy and she does not speak during the walk but when they reach the black side door, she turns to Ralph and hugs him tightly. He wonders, is this my chance? Is this the right moment or the wrong one?

And when she pulls back, he puts his hands on either side of her face and he kisses her.

At the ruins, Jesse hunches up against the wall and stares dully at nothing. He feels ragged and battered and is fighting to keep his eyes open.

‘Do you want to come back to mine?’ Willow asks him. ‘I don’t think my parents will notice.’

He sniffs. ‘Mine never did. They never stood a chance, anyway.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My aunt, she was sacrificed, then my mother she was like us, you know, she tried to find out what happened to her sister and her sister came to her, like Paddy did to us.’

Willow jerks forward, eyes wide. ‘Oh my god! And were we right about our parents, Jesse? Were they all trying to find Carol-Anne?’

‘Yes, like us and Paddy, Margaret told me,’ he nods. ‘So, Mayfield killed them both. Bishop was the latest one to change. They killed Paddy so he could change and live forever. Never age. Never get ill. But I’m going to stop them and I’m going to kill Bishop too, for what he did to Paddy.’

Willow feels cold at the thought but nods, understanding. ‘What about the rest of the committee?’

‘They’re all changed,’ he tells her. ‘But they need to replace Iris and Bob. Margaret told me that’s why they want me and Jaime’s mother. Maybe next time will be my turn. But that’s never going to happen. I’d rather kill myself first.’

‘What about what you’ve already had? What she’s already done to you?’

‘I’m not a risk to Paddy anymore.’ He lowers his eyes, lips trembling. ‘But maybe I can use it against them. I’ll do whatever I have to.’

‘What about the book?’

He looks at her, eyes cold and shrugs. ‘Like you said, bargaining power.’

‘Nothing will happen now for a long time,’ she sighs. ‘We’ll be adults by the time it does.’

‘Exactly,’ he seethes. ‘And if any of us have children…’

‘We won’t let it happen,’ she argues. ‘We know too much. We figured it all out and we stopped them and we’re still here, Jesse. They didn’t beat us.’ She opens her mouth to say something else, then breaks off, staring forlornly at the grave. ‘I’m going to miss him so much.’

Jesse drops his head into his hands. He closes his eyes and wonders if he can finally say it to her, to himself – what he has been holding back all this time – what led him to Paddy’s treehouse that day, the day he tried to blow up the school.

He bites his lips, clenches his teeth and feels it exploding inside of him, the need to tell, the longing to share and when Willow crouches softly beside him and brushes his wet hair away from his face, he says it, whispering the words into his folded arms.

‘I… I think I loved him… I think he knew me.’

Willow is silent for a while, brushing his hair, smoothing it back. She wraps an arm around him and sighs softly as she rests her head on his shoulder.

‘I know.’ Jesse responds with a huge shuddering sigh of relief. ‘It’s all right,’ she says. ‘It’s all going to be all right.’

6

The next morning the four of them meet wordlessly at the treehouse and stand around the book. Margaret wants them to take it to Hill Fort Farm and allow her to take care of it, just as she promises to continue to take care of Jesse. But Jesse has packed his things into a bag he wears on his back. He doesn’t know where he will go or where he will sleep tonight, he just knows that it will not be under her roof.

And as for the book, it is leverage. It is security.

‘This town is going to work a little differently from now on,’ Jesse declares and they all agree. The book will remain with them.

7

Margaret sits on a chair on the patio when the work is done. She pours herself a large glass of ruby red wine and lights a cigarette which she raises slowly to her smiling lips. The house behind her is silent. Hilda was fractious when she returned but Margaret made up her favourite bedtime drink, milk with honey, dropped in the extra ingredient and before long her disabled daughter was sleeping like a baby.

Horatio has followed Margaret outside. She can see him sniffing anxiously at the rose garden. He spends a long time sniffing the fresh earth and she watches his ears twitching as his lips pull back from his teeth. Finally, he turns and cocks his leg over the grave of Sergeant Aaron Mayfield and Margaret lets out a great hoot of laughter.

He waddles back to her side, sits down and bangs his thick tail against the patio. She scratches him behind the ears and gazes back at the rose garden. She feels vindicated, she supposes, like a victor. She expects complaint from Bishop, rebellion even, but she knows it will be futile and short lived. His only true supporter was Aaron, and Aaron is gone. Bishop won’t want to upset her, not really.

She has won.

Her two greatest enemies are in the ground and she has secretly consumed blood from them both. It runs through her alongside centuries of other blood, blood scratched and flayed free from helpless victims, from the vital sacrifices they must continue to make. Blood that burst from eyeballs, flowed from slashed bellies and erupted from clawed veins. She licks her lips very slowly, savouring the metallic tang as if it is almost erotic.

Her thoughts turn to Jesse. She saw him leave Willow earlier. She watched him trudge towards Rowan land. The Holloway, she thinks with a chuckle, he thinks he can hide out in the Holloway. She will let him for now. She will let him seek solitude and lick his wounds. She knows he will come back out eventually and then she will pounce. She looks down at Horatio and revels in the idea of owning a very different kind of pet.

The End

Thanks for reading!

Please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this last chapter. Thank you for reading along and being part of the Black Hare Valley world and journey! I have written five books in this series so look out for future blog posts, news and extracts on Black Hare Valley. the story is far from over and things are about to get even darker….

NOTE: Please remember this is NOT the finished version of Black Hare Valley Book 1. This book has not been to my editor yet or even my beta readers. There will be typos, grammatical mistakes, and sentences that need rewriting.