And then Skulduggery was shouting something and running forwards, his arms sweeping up, and a rush of wind hit the fireball and knocked it off course even as the flames extinguished. Then he was at Valkyrie’s side, holding her arm, walking backwards with her as the Minions stalked them.
“They’ve been infected,” he said, “but they’re not lost. Not yet. We don’t want to kill them.”
Dusk strolled after them. “It’s not their fault I chose them after all.”
Skulduggery glanced at her. “It takes two nights for an Infected to become a vampire. Until then, they’re innocent victims.”
“But in two nights,” Dusk added, “this will all be over.”
Skulduggery took out his gun, aimed it straight at Dusk. The Minions stopped and snarled. Dusk’s smile never left his face. “This is your chance to leave,” Skulduggery said.
“Why would we do that? You’re the ones backing away. You can’t kill my friends. You are losing this little altercation.”
Skulduggery thumbed back the revolver’s hammer. “I said we don’t want to kill them. I didn’t say we won’t.”
“If you fire that gun,” Dusk said, “you will have the whole town running to see what’s going on and you’ve dropped your disguise.”
“That’s the only reason I’m not putting you out of our misery right here and now.”
Dusk considered his options then shrugged. “Minions,” he said, “we’re leaving.” The infected couple snarled their displeasure, but did as they were told. They joined Dusk as he backed away.
Skulduggery didn’t lower the gun. “Tell Vengeous I expected more from him. Going after my colleague to get to me is the sort of thing Serpine tried. Tell him if he wants me then be a man and come and get me.”
“The Baron is an honourable man.”
“The Baron is a coward.”
Dusk smiled, but didn’t respond. Valkyrie stood by Skulduggery’s side, and they watched Dusk and his Minions fade into the cover of the trees.
He parked the Bentley in the lane at the back, and Valkyrie followed him in. The carpeted surroundings absorbed their footfalls. They passed framed posters for obscure movies starring dead actors. No paying customer had been in this building for decades.
The cinema was quiet, as usual, and empty. They walked down the steps between the rows of seats. The screen had a heavy red curtain in front of it, musty with age. As they approached, the curtain parted and the screen lit up, showing an old black-and-white film. The film showed a brick wall and an open door. The soundtrack was of a city at night. Valkyrie followed Skulduggery up on to the small stage and they walked to the door, their shadows falling on to the image. Then they walked through the screen.
They took the stairs that lay on the other side and gradually the artificial light swept the gloom away. They reached the top floor, where all signs of the old cinema had been replaced by gleaming corridors and laboratories. The owner of the Hibernian had spent a lot of time renovating the building, developing it into the magic-science facility he’d always dreamed about. Because of the delicate nature of the work done in all the various sections – the medical bay, the brand-new Morgue, the Theoretical Magic (R&D) Department – there were no windows, and the temperature was carefully controlled. Although he had the run of the entire building, shared only with his two assistants, the owner still chose to work in the smallest, darkest laboratory, and that was where they found him.
Professor Kenspeckle Grouse looked around when Skulduggery said his name. “You again,” he said in a voice that was not overflowing with warmth and hospitality. “What do you want?” Kenspeckle was a small, elderly man with a mass of white hair and very little patience.
“We have something for you, Professor,” Skulduggery said, showing him the syringe that had fallen from Dusk’s pocket. “We were wondering if you’d have time to analyse it.”
“Oh, as if I’m not kept busy enough as it is,” Kenspeckle said gruffly. “Valkyrie, I haven’t seen you in weeks. Staying out of trouble?”
“Not really,” Valkyrie admitted.
“Nor did I expect you to,” he said with an exasperated sigh. For all his crotchety behaviour and ill manners, the elderly scientist seemed to have a soft spot for Valkyrie. “So what has he dragged you into this time?”
“I haven’t dragged her into anything,” Skulduggery said defensively.
Valkyrie smiled. “Fights, kidnap attempts, more fights. Business as usual, you know how it is.” Skulduggery’s phone rang and he stepped away to answer it.
Now that Skulduggery was out of earshot, Kenspeckle let his voice soften in tone. “How is the shoulder from last month?”
“Much better,” she answered. “I was barely left with a bruise.”
Kenspeckle nodded. “I used a new mixture. The ingredients are a little harder to find, but for my favourite patients I like to make sure the healing process is as painless as possible.”
“I’m on that list?” Valkyrie asked, her smile growing wider.
Kenspeckle snorted. “You are the list.” Valkyrie laughed.
“Your partner certainly isn’t,” Kenspeckle continued, returning his attention to Skulduggery as his phone call ended. “Let me see that syringe.” Skulduggery handed it over.
“Where did you get it?”
“It fell out of a vampire’s pocket.”
Kenspeckle held the syringe up to the light, examining the liquid within. “Fascinating creatures, vampires. Two completely separate layers of epidermis, the upper layer of which regenerates when the sun comes up. Human by day, gifted with slightly enhanced speed and strength, but essentially mortal. But at night …”
Valkyrie nodded. “I know what they’re like at night.”
“Hmm? Oh, that’s right. You have firsthand knowledge, don’t you? How did you get that I wonder? Oh, yes.” He glared at Skulduggery. “Someone with absolutely no sense of responsibility dragged you in front of a vampire and almost got you killed.”
Skulduggery tilted
