Skulduggery Pleasant: Last Stand of Dead Men (13 page)

“How about we change that? I’ve come to you with a proposition.”

“This’ll be good.”

“We’ll help you with your serum supplies. I know how hard it is these days to find exactly what you need in large enough quantities. We can even manufacture the serum at a consistently safe level.”

“That so? Serum, eh?”

“A lifetime’s supply,” said Skulduggery. “In exchange for your help against the Supreme Council.”

“So we put ourselves in the firing line – and I assume you’d be using us as a first wave of attack kind of thing, not much more than cannon fodder – and as a reward we get all the serum we need to stay human when the sun goes down.” Moloch sat forward, resting his bony elbows on his bony knees. “Do you know how much I hate being human? Do you know how uncomfortable it is at night, being unable to split my skin and emerge? It’s like I have ants crawling inside my flesh. And my skin, it gets so tight it gives me headaches. My gums hurt. They bleed. My teeth want to grow, but they can’t. My fingernails want to lengthen, but they’re held back. All I want to do is lose myself, but my thoughts jingle and jangle inside my head. And you want to give us more serum? No thanks.” Moloch settled back into his couch. “We want more territory.”

Skulduggery tilted his head. “I’m sorry?”

“Look at the good we’ve done for our local community. Crime is down. Vandalism is down. We protect the people and the people protect us. We’ve demonstrated what we can do and we’ve proved that we don’t need you sorcerers looking over our shoulders when we do it. We want more territory.”

“How much more?”

“Another housing estate.”

“Mortal housing estates are not ours to give.”

“We’re not asking you to give it to us. We just want you to not interfere when we make our move.”

“And how exactly would you be making your move? An army of vampires swarming—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Moloch said. “We’d do it slowly, winning over one person at a time. What, you think we haven’t been asked? People see what we’ve done for the residents here. They might not know the full extent of who we are, but they know a good deal when they see it. They want us to spread our influence in their direction. If you agree to that, the vampires will fight on your side.”

“I don’t have the authority to make that kind of deal.”

Moloch laughed. “Like hell you don’t. You might think we’re out of the loop over here, but I have my sources. You may not be an Elder, skeleton, but you run that Sanctuary as much as anyone. They’ll listen to you if you tell them to agree.”

“I’ll inform them of your proposal.”

“You do that.”

Valkyrie followed Skulduggery to the door.

“Oh, girl?” said Moloch, and she turned. He gave her a shark’s smile. “We remember those who have vampire blood on their hands. There’s a stink about them that never quite goes away.”

“Whoever said I wanted it to?” Valkyrie asked, and walked out.

exter Vex didn’t complain when he was shackled. He didn’t complain as he was loaded into the van, or even when he was hauled out. He didn’t complain about all the shoving and pushing and rough treatment as he was escorted into one of the American Sanctuary’s support posts in rural Connecticut. He didn’t complain about any of it. The same could not be said for his companion.

“I’m going to sue every last one of you,” Caius Caviler raged after his head smacked into the wall for a second time. “I’m going to introduce the mortal procedure of a lawsuit into the magical community and then I’m going to sue you and take everything you own.”

The man shoving him was big and broad and not in a very good mood. His name was Grim. He was an English sorcerer who’d been Quintin Strom’s bodyguard the day the Grand Mage had been assassinated. He’d been fired shortly afterwards, and now here he was in America, trying to restore his honour by being as big a jerk as possible.

Vex was in America. He felt it only right to use American insults.

The sorcerer behind Vex was a much calmer fellow. Swain, his name was. Vex had never met him before and, while he was blissfully unconcerned with Vex’s comfort, at least he wasn’t shoving him face first into walls.

“This is an illegal arrest!” Caviler went on. “You can’t put shackles on someone just because of their nationality! We have rights!”

Grim shoved him into another wall. Caviler rebounded, went quiet. He sucked at his bloody lip.

They reached two rows of cells with old-fashioned iron bars in place of walls, and each bar inscribed with a binding sigil.

“In here,” Swain said, nudging Vex towards the nearest one. Vex walked in and Swain locked the door. Grim pushed Caviler into the cell next to him, and Caviler stumbled to his knees beside the bunk.

“Enjoy your stay,” Grim said, and went to leave.

“Big man,” Caviler muttered.

Grim turned. “What was that?”

Caviler got to his feet and looked Grim dead in the eye. “You’re a big man when the other guy’s handcuffed, aren’t you? Big, tough man. I don’t think you’d be so tough if my hands were free.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you?”

“Caius,” Vex said, shaking his head.

“Maybe I should take the cuffs off, then,” said Grim.

Caviler smiled, showing bloody teeth. “By all means.”

Swain took hold of Grim’s arm, tried to pull him out. “Come on, we don’t have time for this.”

Grim shook himself free. “No, no, Mr Caviler here wants a fair go. It’s only right that I should give him the chance.” He took the key from his pocket and threw it at Caviler’s feet. “Well? Come on now. There’s the key.”

“And the moment I go to pick it up you kick me in the face?” Caviler said. “I don’t think so.”

Grim stepped out of the cell. “There. Now you have loads of room.”

Caviler chuckled. “You are smarter than you look. That’s not hard, I’ll grant you, but even so. Once that key is in my hand, you’ll be able to shoot me for attempting to escape. Unfortunately, Mr Grim, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Grim shrugged, took his pistol from his holster and held it out to Swain.

“What the hell are you doing?” Swain asked. “We have to go. Put the gun away. I’m not taking your damn—”

Grim pointed the gun at Caviler and Swain snatched it off him.

“There,” Grim said to Caviler. “I’m unarmed.”

Swain tried pulling Grim back, but Grim turned, shoved him, his face suddenly red with anger.

“If you don’t walk away with me right this moment,” said Swain, “I’ll bring the Cleavers in here and they’ll drag you out.”

“If that’s what you feel you have to do,” said Grim.

Swain stared at him, then glanced at Caviler and then Vex, and walked away.

Grim stepped into the cell, closed the door, and smiled at Caviler. “Pick up the key.”

“Don’t,” said Vex.

“Go on. Free yourself. Be a man.”

“Caius, do not pick up that key.”

Caviler licked his lips. His hand reached downwards slowly. Grim didn’t move, not even when Caviler lifted the key off the ground and straightened up.

Grim stepped forward suddenly and Caviler flinched back, and Grim laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Caviler’s eyes narrowed, and he worked the key until the cuffs fell.

“Put them back on,” Vex ordered. “Caius, put the handcuffs back on right now. Do it.”

“Caius doesn’t take orders from you,” said Grim. “Caius Caviler doesn’t take orders from anyone. Look at him. Look how strong he is. He’s going to teach me a lesson and no mistake. When the cuffs were on, I could hit because I knew he couldn’t hit me back, but now … now I’m scared. Look at how scared I am.” Grim’s smile broadened. “What was that you were saying, Caius? Big, tough man, wasn’t it? Well, your hands are free. Time to show me what a big, tough man really is.”

Grim took another step towards him. Caviler backed up.

“Teach me a lesson,” said Grim. “Come on.” He reached out, poked Caviler’s chest. “Let’s go.” He poked again, and again.

Caviler swung a punch that slapped uselessly off Grim’s jaw.

“Good boy,” whispered Grim, and replied with a punch to the ribs that lifted Caviler off his feet.

Caviler fell back, wheezing, and Grim struck him in the face so hard he cracked his skull off the iron bars. Caviler threw himself forward and Grim laughed, shot a knee into Caviler’s gut and tripped him as he staggered.

“That’s enough,” said Vex.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” said Grim, and he clapped his hands as Caviler got up. “See this? Heart of a lion, this guy! You can hit him, you can kick him, but he keeps on tickin’!”

Caviler went to swing another punch, but Grim stepped in and headbutted him.

“My turn,” said Vex. “Come on, Grim. He’s had enough. You want to beat up someone, beat me up. You’re going to kill him.”

“He should’ve thought of that before he provoked me,” said Grim, twisting Caviler’s arm behind his back. “Say uncle. Come on, tough guy. Say uncle.”

“Uncle!” Caviler cried.

Grim cocked his head. “Sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“
Uncle!
”

“Still not hearing right,” said Grim, and he wrenched Caviler’s arm back and Vex heard the snap of bone, and Caviler shrieked and thrashed, but Grim still wouldn’t let him go. “Next time you find yourself arrested,” he said, “keep your bloody mouth shut, you understand me? This here is you getting off lightly.”

Grim released him and Caviler swung blindly, his elbow crunching into Grim’s nose. Grim bellowed, grabbed Caviler again and wrapped his arm round his throat, hauled him back in a vicious sleeper hold.

“Let him go!” Vex shouted. “He didn’t mean it, Grim! Look at him! He’s beaten! Let him go!”

Caviler’s face was already turning purple. His ruined arm flapped uselessly by his side, while his legs kicked and his good hand scraped at Grim’s arm. Grim tightened the hold even more, walking backwards the whole time. Caviler’s legs stopped kicking. The heels of his feet dragged across the floor. Both arms hung limply.

“Let him go,” said Vex. “You’re killing him. Grim, let him go. Release him. Grim!”

Grim’s eyes widened, and he opened his arms and Caviler fell. The colour drained from Grim’s face.

Footsteps approached and Swain walked back in, two Cleavers in tow. When he saw Caviler, he ran forward, yanked open the cell door and dropped to his side, checked for a pulse.

“Get a doctor,” he told one of the Cleavers, and then he stared up at Grim, disbelief etched into his face. “What the hell have you done?”

photograph of Valkyrie Cain was pinned to the exact centre of the wall. Radiating outwards and linked by different coloured thread were names, locations, dates and more photographs. Along the blue thread were pictures of Valkyrie’s family, including a publicity shot of the late horror writer Gordon Edgley. Red threads meant public incidents, and these threads linked newspaper reports and Internet printouts. The green thread led straight to a series of pictures of tall men in good suits, all under the banner of Skulduggery Pleasant. There were shots of a heavily scarred man, a black Bentley, and various other individuals. Some of these pictures were too blurry to make out, but most were of relatively high quality. The system for cross-referencing had started out as simple, but, as more information was collected, it had got decidedly complex.