Playing with Fire (Skulduggery Pleasant, Book 2)

by Derek Landy

  "You're fired," Guild said.

  Skulduggery tilted his head. "You can't afford to lose me."

  "Oh, we can," Guild snarled, walking to the door.

  "I have a job to do," Skulduggery said, "and I intend to do it. You may be a traitor, Guild, but you don't want the Faceless Ones back any more than I do."

  Guild reached the door and turned, his lip

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  curled. "Then do it, Skeleton. Stop the Grotesquery. Do your job. And once you're done, never set foot in here again."

  He left, and nobody spoke for a while. Then Skulduggery nodded.

  "I really think he's starting to like me."

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  Chapter Twenty-nine

  PICKING UP A TAIL

  THEY LEFT THE Sanctuary and drove through the narrower streets of Dublin. Skulduggery parked the Bentley once they reached the Temple Bar area, and they walked the rest of the way. Even though he was wearing his disguise, he was drawing all the usual looks from passersby who sifted in and out of the many pubs and restaurants.

  They crossed the square, navigating between the hundred or so students who lounged around on the steps. Valkyrie liked Temple Bar. It was vibrant, and packed, and there was music and laughter

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  and chat everywhere. And if they failed to stop the Grotesquery, when this night was over it could all be nothing but dust and rubble and screaming.

  They reached a shop with a brightly colored mural on its wall, and Skulduggery knocked on the door. From somewhere inside there came voices, and a few moments later the door rattled as it was unlocked. A man in his early twenties opened it. His eyebrows, nose, ears, lips, and tongue were pierced, and he was wearing old jeans, a Thin Lizzy T-shirt, and a dog collar.

  "Hello, Finbar," Skulduggery said. "I'm here to collect my belongings."

  "Skul-man?" Finbar said, in such a way that suggested that befuddlement was his natural state of being. "Is that you? What's up with that hair and those gigantic sunglasses, man?"

  "It's a disguise."

  "Oh. Yeah, I get it. Nice. So hey, wow. How long's it been?"

  "Since we last spoke?"

  "Yeah. Must be years, yeah?"

  "Last month, Finbar."

  "Hmm? Oh right. Okay. And who's this you have with you?"

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  "I'm Valkyrie Cain," Valkyrie said, shaking his hand. He wore many rings.

  "Valkyrie Cain," Finbar said, rolling the name around in his mouth. "Nice one. My name's Finbar Wrong. I'm an old friend of the Skul-man's, isn't that right, Skul-man?"

  "Not really."

  Finbar shook his head. "Nope, wouldn't call us friends, exactly. Associates, or ... or ... not colleagues, but... I mean, we know each other, like, but. . ."

  "I'm going to have to hurry you along," Skulduggery said. "I gave you a small case to keep for me, and I need it back."

  "A case?"

  "A black case. I told you I needed somewhere to keep some supplies, in case of emergencies."

  "Is there an emergency?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  Finbar's eyes widened, and his piercings glittered in the sunlight. "Oh man. I'm not gonna die, am I?"

  "I hope not."

  "Me too, man. Me too. I got so much to live for, y'know? Hey, did I tell you me and Sharon

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  are getting married? Finally, yeah?"

  "Finbar, I don't know who Sharon is, and I really need that case."

  "All right, man," Finbar said, nodding. "I'm going to see if I can find it. It's got to be somewhere, right?"

  "So suggest the laws of probability."

  Finbar wandered back into the shop, and Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery.

  "What's in the case?" she asked.

  "My other gun, a few bullets, various bits and pieces, a spike bomb, an old paperback I've never read, a pack of cards-- "

  "Spike bomb?"

  "Mm? Yes."

  "What's a spike bomb?"

  "It's a bomb with a spike in it."

  "You gave a bomb to that guy? Is it safe?"

  "It's a bomb, Valkyrie. Of course it's not safe. The case, however, is very safe. Whether he's been using it as a coffee table or a footstool, or even if he's simply spent the last few years throwing it down a flight of stairs, its contents will be in no way damaged. Providing he can find the thing."

  Finbar reappeared. "I'm getting warmer, man, I

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  know it. It's not in the front, so I'm thinking it's in the back, yeah? So I'm going to check out the back right now. You guys want to come in?"

  "We're good out here," Valkyrie said politely.

  "Okay, cool. You sure? Skul-man? Sharon's in there, man. Why don't you say hi?"

  "Because I don't know her, Finbar."

  "Right, yeah, okay."

  Finbar wandered off again.

  Valkyrie checked the clock on her phone. If she were home right now, living a normal life, she'd probably be figuring out what to wear to the reunion. Not that it would take long. She had one dress in her entire wardrobe, which she wore rarely and with great reluctance. She figured that the Toxic Twins would have already started their beauty regime by this stage, applying eighty-four layers of makeup and figuring out which color lipstick made them look the most trashy. Valkyrie was glad she had a reflection to go instead of her.

  "Oh hell," she said suddenly.

  "What's wrong?"

  "The reflection. It's still in the back of the Bentley."

  Skulduggery's head tilted. "Oh. Oh, we seem to

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  have forgotten about that."

  She closed her eyes. "Mum's going to go mental. I promised I'd be at the reunion."

  "Look at the bright side. If the world ends, none of that will matter."

  She waited a moment without speaking, and he nodded.

  "That's probably not a great consolation," he admitted.

  Finbar wandered back, holding a black case. "Found it, man. Reason I couldn't see it, it was on the floor, and there was someone sleeping on it. Y'know, for a pillow. It's good, though. So, here."

  Skulduggery took the case. "Thank you very much, Finbar."

  "Absolutely no problemo, man. Hey, this emergency thing-- it's serious?"

  "Yes it is."

  "You need some help? It's been a while since I was, y'know, in the field, or even out the door, but I still got it."

  "I'm sure you do, but we can handle it."

  "Oh right. Okay. Probably a good thing. I don't know if I got it anymore, y'know? Don't know if I ever did, but. . . what were we saying?"

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  "We were saying congratulations on your upcoming wedding to Sharon."

  "Oh, thanks, Skul-man."

  "I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

  "Yeah, me too. I mean, I've only known her three days, but sometimes you just gotta . . . get married ... to someone. . . ."He trailed off and looked puzzled. "I think."

  "Well," Skulduggery said, "thank you for keeping this for me. Stay out of trouble."

  "You got it. Hey, who's that with you?"

  Skulduggery tilted his head. "This is Valkyrie. She introduced herself."

  "Naw, man, not her. The guy in black."

  Valkyrie stiffened, and fought the urge to look around.

  "Where is he?" Skulduggery asked.

  "Across the street, doing a pretty good job of keeping out of sight, but you know me, Skul-man. Eyes like a feathery thing. Whatchamacallit. Hawk."

  "And he's watching us?"

  "Yep. Wait, no. Not watching you. Watching her."

  "What does he look like?" Valkyrie asked.

  "Black hair, pretty pale. Ugly scar on his face. Looks like a vamp."

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  "You should get back inside," Skulduggery said. "Lock the doors."

  "You got it, Kemo Sabe. I'll keep my crucifix close."

  "Vampires aren't scared of a crucifix, Finbar."

  "I don't plan to wave it at him, I pl
an to hit him with it. It's really heavy. I figure I can do some considerable damage to his head."

  He stepped back and closed the door.

  Skulduggery and Valkyrie walked back through Temple Bar to the Bentley.

  "Is Dusk still following us?" Valkyrie asked, keeping her voice low.

  "I think so," Skulduggery answered. "This is the break we've been looking for. Dusk has a grudge against you. We're quite lucky, in fact."

  "Very lucky," Valkyrie agreed dryly. "Very lucky that a vampire wants to kill me. Are we going to lure him into a trap?"

  "Indeed we are. But not here. He won't get close enough. He has to believe you're alone."

  Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. "That sounds suspiciously like a suggestion that I should act as bait. ..."

  "You have to go to the reunion."

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  "No no no . . ."

  "You can't be around me, or Tanith, or any sorcerer. Dusk wouldn't risk it. He'll strike only when he thinks you're alone; that way he can take his time when he kills you."

  "You're not making me feel any better about this."

  "You're going to the reunion."

  She sagged.

  "Tanith and I will wait nearby. The moment Dusk tries anything, we'll step in."

  "But my family. My aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins and-- "

  "We'll protect them."

  "What? No, I mean, my family is really, really annoying. When they're drunk, they all start dancing, and that's just. . . that's just wrong."

  "You'll have a wonderful time."

  "I hate you."

  "I know."

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  Chapter Thirty

  FIGHT

  SPRINGHEELED JACK stood on the roof of Clearwater Hospital and looked down at the creature, admiring the beauty and the savagery, the sheer power he could feel, even from where he was standing.

  "Quite a thing, ain't it?"

  Jack wiped any hint of admiration from his face, and turned as Sanguine strolled toward him.

  "You lied to me," he said.

  Sanguine nodded. "That I did. How'd you find us?"

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  "You told me where you were stayin', remember?"

  "I did? Me an' my big mouth, I swear. ... So, you seen the critter down there. What do you think?"

  "This all has to do with the Faceless Ones," Jack said, and hit Sanguine.

  The Texan stumbled back, and he was straightening up when Jack kicked him off the edge of the building.

  Jack jumped, flipped, and landed on the ground beside Sanguine.

  "Ow," Sanguine said, flat on his back. His sunglasses had come off, and Jack looked at the holes where his eyes should have been.

  "I don't like being used," Jack said.

  "If I'd apologized before, would you still have kicked me off the roof?"

  "Probably."

  "Figured as much."

  Sanguine struck out with his leg, his boot cracking into Jack's knee. He rolled up and launched himself forward, forced Jack against the wall, driving in punches. Jack's hat fell.

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  Sanguine punched and Jack ducked. Sanguine's knuckles hit the wall and he howled. Jack shoved him away, giving himself enough room to maneuver, and he jumped and kicked, and Sanguine went sprawling.

  "You can't beat me, Yank," Jack snarled.

  "Yanks are from the North," Sanguine muttered, getting up. "I'm a Southern boy."

  He came forward again and Jack ducked and dodged, flipping himself sideways. Sanguine growled in frustration. Jack smacked him and gave him another kick in the head, and once more Sanguine hit the ground.

  Jack looked down at him. "So where is he? Where's Vengeous?"

  "Ain't here right now," Sanguine said, not trying to get up.

  "It's just you and him, is it? You and him and that thing?"

  "We got vamps, too. You know Dusk?"

  "Met him in London once. He didn't realize the rooftops was my patch. We got into a bit of a scuffle, you might say."

  Sanguine sat up and groaned. "Well, I'd love to watch you two kill each other, but he ain't around

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  either. He's off on one of his vendettas, goin' after a girl in Haggard."

  "You used me, Sanguine."

  Slowly, Sanguine reached out, picked up his sunglasses, and got to his feet. "You came all the way to Ireland to berate me, that what you did?"

  "I came here to find out what you're up to."

  "And then what?"

  "If I don't like it? I'll stop it."

  Sanguine's sunglasses were back on, and he laughed. "That critter out there, that's what we're up to. You wanna stop that? You go right ahead, my ugly little friend." The ground at Sanguine's feet started to crumble. "Go back to London, Jack. You can't do anythin' to hurt us here. We're too strong, buddy. What could you possibly do to upset our plans?"

  Sanguine grinned, and he lowered into the ground and disappeared.

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  Chapter Thirty-one

  THE EDGLEY FAMILY REUNION THING

  VALKYRIE CHECKED that her parents had gone to the reunion and the house was empty, and then walked outside and waved. The Bentley drove up, Skulduggery got out, and together they lifted the reflection's body out of the trunk and carried it into the house and up the stairs.

  They positioned the reflection in front of the mirror, and then let it drop gently forward. It passed through the glass, slumping to the mirrored room within. After a moment, the reflection stirred and stood up. It turned to them, its face placid and

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  blank. Valkyrie fought down an irrational feeling of guilt for what they had put the reflection through. She started to imagine that it had a reproachful look in its eyes. She reached out and touched the glass, and the reflection's memories swarmed into her mind.

  She clutched her chest and took a step back. "Oh God."

  Skulduggery steadied her. "Are you okay?"

  "I just remembered what it was like to be shot."

  "Was it fun?"

  "Amazingly, no."

  She stood up straighter. The reflection in the mirror was normal now. "I'm all right. I'm good."

  "Then I shall leave you. You're going to have to walk to the golf club, I'm afraid. But don't worry, we'll be watching."

  "What if I go to the reunion and Dusk doesn't fall for the trap? Then we're all just wasting our time."

  "This is the only option we have, Valkyrie. Are you going to wear a dress?"

  "Are you sure I can't go like this?"

  "He'll be cautious enough as it is. You have to appear completely unaware."

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  "Fine," she growled. "A dress."

  "I'm sure you'll look lovely," Skulduggery said as he left the room.

  She called after him. "If anyone starts a sing-along at this thing, the world can fend for itself, all right?"

  She heard his voice as he walked down the stairs. "That's fair."

  Her eyes narrowed. The reflection's memories had mixed with her own, sidled into position like they always did, but there was something else now. A feeling.

  She shook her head. The reflection was incapable of feelings. It was a receptacle, a thing that absorbed experiences, ready to be downloaded. There were never any feelings, any emotions. Valkyrie wasn't even sure if this new thing was an emotion. It hovered in her mind just beyond her reach. Whenever she focused on it, it scattered.

  No, it wasn't an emotion, but it was something. Something she couldn't pin down. A black spot in her memory. Her reflection had hidden something from her.

  This, Valkyrie said to herself, is probably not a good sign.

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  There were more here than she had expected.

  They filled the function room almost to capacity: people talking and laughing and shaking hands and hugging. Aunts and uncles and cousins of every degree, adding to the cacophony of chatter that came at Valkyrie like a wall of sound, slamming into her the moment she opened the d
oor.

  Most of these people she didn't know-- she'd never seen them before, and would never see them again. It didn't exactly fill her with regret. She doubted she was missing out on anything spectacular.

  Her dress looked nice, she had to admit. It was black, and pretty, but she couldn't get comfortable. If Dusk did fall into the trap and try to attack, she'd regret not wearing trousers and boots, she knew she would.

  "Stephanie?"

  She turned. The man was in his forties. His comb-over was neither subtle nor successful.

  "It is Stephanie, isn't it? Desmond's daughter?"

  Valkyrie drew a smile onto her face. "Yep," she said. "It's me."

  "Ah! Wonderful!" the man said, grabbing her

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  into a hug that lasted two uncomfortable seconds. He released her and stepped back. The sudden movement had dislodged his comb-over. Valkyrie thought it polite not to mention it.

  "Last time I saw you, you were knee-high to a grasshopper! You must have been, I don't know, four? You were tiny! Now look at you! You're beautiful! I can't get over how much you've grown!"

  "Yeah, nine years'll do that."

  "Bet you don't remember me," he said, wagging his finger for some unknown reason.

  "You're right," she said.

  "Go on, have a guess."

  "I have no idea."

  "Go on, rack your brains, try to remember!"

  "I don't know," she said, speaking slowly and taking extra care with the words, in case he missed her meaning.

  "I'll give you a clue," he said, missing her meaning entirely. "Your grandfather and my father were brothers."

  "You're my dad's cousin."

  "Yes!" he said-- almost cheered, in fact. "Now do you remember?"

  She looked at him and thought how amazing it

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  was that he, like most of the people here, was the direct descendant of a race of supermagical Ancients, and yet it looked like he would have difficulty crossing the street without assistance.