Fighting monsters and demons in association with BBC Cult.
William, Tamara, Doctor Nichols and Mrs. Gilroy all turned to see a pretty blond girl of perhaps eighteen standing outlined in the doorway through which the Innkeeper of the Rose and Thorn had just entered the foyer. The girl was short and there was something about the eyes, a resemblance that confirmed that she must be Betsy, and Mrs. Gilroy therefore her mother.
"Not another word, Mum. Not another word," the girl said, her voice barely a grunt through gritted teeth.
But it was not the girl William was focused on, not the girl to whom he found his gaze drawn. Rather it was the squalling babe in her arms, a child whose cries sounded like those of any other and whose gums were as pink and toothless as might be expected of an infant. But its skin was brown and tough as rutted leather and there were nubs upon its hairless scalp that had burst through the skin and were clearly the beginnings of horns. This hideous, ugly thing opened its jaundice-yellow eyes and it stared at William and it ceased its crying.
