Death Bringer (29 page)

“I'd prefer the drive, actually.”

“Is it because of the scintillating conversation?”

“That must be it.”

“This wasn't the ending we wanted,” Skulduggery said.

“No it wasn't,” replied Valkyrie. “It was the ending we got, though.”

“Yes it was.”

Chapter 41
Home Sweet Home

aturday morning came and went, and Valkyrie slept through most of it. When she woke, she just lay there, looking up at the ceiling. She thought about Melancholia, and Wreath, and Moore, and about Fletcher and Caelan. All of it jumbled together this past week, becoming mixed up and messed up, one thing after another. She hadn't had time to really dwell on recent events. That might have been a good thing.

She crawled out of bed, showered and dressed, went downstairs. Her parents were heading out that afternoon, but when she walked into the living room, her father was leaning over the basket, prodding Alice with his finger. “Hello, small person,” he said.

“Desmond,” her mum said from the couch, “don't poke the baby.”

Her dad stopped, looked guilty, then leaned closer. “You may have won this round,” he whispered, “but I
will
have my—”

“And don't threaten the baby, either.”

“I wasn't,” he said, straightening up immediately.

“Just leave her alone. You're annoying her.”

“I'm not annoying her. She doesn't even know enough to
be
annoyed. She's, what, a week old?”

“She's three months.”

“She's three months in
our
years, but how old is she in baby years?”

“Come away from her. Steph, could you pick her up? It's time for her feed.”

Valkyrie went to the baby while her dad frowned.

“Why didn't you ask me to pick her up? I was standing right there. Don't you trust me? That's it, isn't it? You don't trust me.”

“I do trust you,” her mum said. “I just don't trust you a
lot
. Stephanie has safe hands.”

“You want to see safe hands?” her dad asked. He went to the fruit bowl on the side table, took two apples and proceeded to juggle them. “See? Safe as anything.”

Her mum frowned at him. “Are you proposing you juggle our new-born child?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I'd only be able to juggle her if you'd had twins. Otherwise it's just throwing.”

“Steph,” her mum said, “give me my baby and never let your father near her.”

“Deal,” Valkyrie said, handing her sister over.

Her dad put the apples back in the bowl. “Everyone seems to forget that I'm not a complete novice at this. Don't I already have one beautiful daughter, and she turned out OK, didn't she? I didn't drop her once.”

“You dropped her when we were at the zoo,” Valkyrie's mum said.

Valkyrie spun her head to him. “You dropped me?”

“Ah,” he said, “I'd forgotten about that. In my defence, though, you were a very wriggly child. One moment you were there, the next you were, you know, on the ground in the penguin enclosure.”

She blinked. “You dropped me in the
penguin enclosure
?”

“I was leaning over the railing and you just plopped out of my grip. You weren't hurt, or anything. And even if you had been, I'm sure the penguins would have taken you in, raised you as one of their own. It would have been a different life for you, but still a good one.”

“I can't believe you dropped me.”

“Neither could the people around us. Some crazy woman stormed up and roared at me for five minutes about how I shouldn't be putting my child in danger.”

“That was me,” Valkyrie's mum muttered.

“Now it makes sense,” Valkyrie said, collapsing on to the couch. “My fear of zoos. My fear of penguins. My fear of being dropped in a zoo with the penguins. It's all Dad's fault.”

“Most things are,” he admitted sadly, and wandered over to his wife. “But I won't make the same mistakes again, I promise. From this moment on, I will be the best father the world has ever seen. Wifey, may I please hold my child?”

“I'm feeding her.”

“Give me the child and the bottle. I'll feed her.”

Valkyrie's mum looked at him suspiciously. “When you hold a baby, what is the most important thing to remember?”

“Not to drop it,” he said proudly.

“Well, yes, well done, dear, but I was thinking more about
how
you hold the baby.”

“Ah,” he said, “of course. The secret to holding a baby is to pick it up by the scruff of the neck.”

“You're thinking of kittens.”

“Pick it up by its ears, then.”

“You're thinking of nothing.”

“Can I please just hold her?”

“I don't think that's wise.”

“A lot of things aren't wise, Melissa. Is crossing the road with your eyes closed wise? No, but I do it anyway.”

His wife nodded. “Stephanie, you're in charge of teaching Alice how to cross the road.”

“Gotcha.”

Her dad held his hands out, and finally her mum sighed. “Be careful,” she warned.

“Trust me,” he said.

She handed the baby over. Valkyrie's dad held Alice out straight, looked at her and smiled. “Aren't you so cute?” he asked. “Aren't you? Aren't you the cutest?” He brought her in close, held her against his face and staggered around the room. “Help me!” he cried. “A facehugger has me!” Valkyrie and her mother observed him as he lifted her off, chuckling. “You know,” he said, “from
Alien
. The facehugger.” He held the baby against his face again. “Help me, Sigourney Weaver! Help me!” Alice, for her part, seemed bemused by the whole thing.

They left half an hour later, when Alice was in her basket and sleeping. Valkyrie dialled Skulduggery's number and he picked up.

“Hey,” she said softly. “It's me.”

Skulduggery paused. “No, it's not. If it were me, then I'd be talking to myself, and I don't do that any more. I certainly don't ring myself. That's one of the first signs of madness, and if it isn't, it should be.”

She sighed. “Are you finished talking nonsense?”

“I haven't talked nonsense all morning. I miss it. Why are you speaking so quietly?”

“Because the baby's asleep.”

“Can she walk yet?”

“No.”

“I could walk from a very young age, you know. I was a very advanced child.”

“You must be so proud.”

“I am.”

“It's funny, actually. I've never thought about what you'd have been like as a child. What
were
you like?”

“I was shorter.”

“I bet you never shut up.”

“Actually, I found it very difficult to speak. I had a stutter, you see.”

“You?”

“It's hard to believe, isn't it? It didn't stop me from developing a razor-sharp wit, though, even if the townspeople
did
suspect that I was possessed by the devil. Four hundred years ago, no one really understood why people stuttered. They were simpler times.”

“So why
do
people stutter?”

“I don't know. They're probably possessed by the devil.”

“You are so annoying. Any word on Craven?”

“Three of his Necromancers have been arrested trying to flee the country – that leaves us with fourteen more, not counting the White Cleaver or Craven himself.”

“So he's still at large.”

“Yes, but that won't last long. If it were Wreath we were talking about, he'd vanish and we'd never see him again. But Craven has spent most of his adult life in one Temple or another. Only rarely did he venture out into the real world. We'll catch him soon enough.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey,” she said, “I have to go. Call me if there's, you know, anything to talk about.”

He sounded amused. “You're bored, aren't you?”

“No,” she said, walking into the hall. “This is my day off and I'm enjoying being normal.”

“You're bored.”

“You're the one who's bored. Without me around, you're lost, aren't you? Just admit that you miss me.”

“You are an amusing oddity.”

She grinned. “That'll do for now.”

She hung up, and opened the door. She put her phone in her pocket as she stepped out and looked around. No one. Shrugging, she went back inside, walked into the kitchen.

God, she was bored.

When Alice was awake, time flitted by. But when she was asleep, Valkyrie had nothing to do. She needed a hobby, something that didn't include hitting people. Or maybe some friends that she could invite over on a Saturday morning to keep her company while she babysat. She felt a pang when Fletcher flashed into her head, and fought it down hard. She refused to feel lonely, not on her day off.

Valkyrie walked to the back door, which hadn't been closed properly, shut it and locked it. There was now a baby in the house, after all. She couldn't take the chance that a wild animal might wander in and make off with Alice, like those dingoes in Australia. She was probably being unfair to both dingoes and Australia, but she couldn't risk it. Locked doors kept the dingoes out, and that's all there was to it, even if she didn't know what a dingo actually was. She took out her phone, searched the Internet, found a picture of a baby dingo and now she really wanted a baby dingo for a pet.

Valkyrie sighed, putting the phone away. She really needed a hobby. She walked out of the kitchen and someone grabbed her, smashed her head against the wall. White light exploded behind her eyes. She wanted to drop to the ground, but there were hands on her, someone speaking, and then the hallway blurred as she was thrown the length of it. She hit the ground, banging her chin and biting her tongue. Blood in her mouth, thunder in her head. She felt fingers in her hair, heard herself cry out as she was wrenched back. More talking, but the words slipped by. Her ears were buzzing. Her head snapped. Someone had hit her. She was on the floor again, on her back this time. Someone sitting on her, straddling her. A hand at her throat. She tried to push at the air but she couldn't focus. She clicked her fingers but couldn't find the spark. Her head was splitting.

She blinked, the man on top of her becoming less hazy. For a moment she didn't recognise him. All she saw was the snarling mouth with the cut lip and the spittle that flew as he spoke. She saw the eyes, wide and bruised and burning with anger. A name drifted to her. Moore.

“You thought I wouldn't come back at you?” he sneered. “You thought you could do that and get away with it?”

His hand at her throat was cutting off her air. She realised she already had her hands up, trying to release the pressure. She brought her knees in so they were pressed against him from behind, and then she hooked her left foot to the outside of his right. He didn't notice.

“They had to let me go,” he said. “Cops can't have someone beaten up in their own cells, not without a lawsuit.”

He pulled his right hand back, cracked it against her cheek. Her head swam but she fought through it.

“I saw your mother's address on one of their files. I thought to myself, the moment I get out of here, I'm paying that girl a visit. I'm going to give her some of what she gave me.” He leaned down, his face mere inches from hers. “I don't know how you did all that crazy stuff, but I can do some crazy stuff of my own. I can beat that pretty face of yours right off you.”

She waited until he started to lean away, then she trapped his right hand at her throat and smacked her own right hand up into his chin. She didn't even give him time to feel it. Her hand went to his shoulder, fingers closing around his jacket, and she snapped her body off the ground, bridging him up and over and now she was on top, smashing her elbow down into his face, again and again while he attempted to cover up.

He tried to push her off but she kept bringing the elbow down. He started shouting, cursing at her. Somewhere in the distance she heard a baby crying. Alice had woken up.

Her head felt light and for a moment she thought she was going to faint. Moore seized his chance, started to push her off. Her head cleared as he turned over, tried to crawl out from under her. She fell on to him, right arm wrapping around his throat, the other searching for a sleeper hold. He gagged, raised up to his hands and knees, but she stayed on his back, hooking her feet into his legs. He launched himself sideways. She tucked her head against him, clung on like a limpet. He rolled, gasping and gagging, doing everything he could to throw her off. Her left arm snaked closer to that sleeper hold. They crashed into the hall table. The vase toppled, smashed on the ground. Flowers and water went everywhere.

She found the sleeper hold, started to tighten, then she felt something slice into her left arm. She cried out, but only let go when Moore twisted the shard of broken vase. She fell back, clutching her arm, blood dripping through her fingers. Moore got to his feet, staggered slightly, his face bright red, bleeding and sweating, the shard in his hand. She tried to push at the air but her focus was gone. Her head buzzed too loudly, every movement sending pain ricocheting against the inside of her skull.