Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

man called Dusk smiled. “When the mood takes me.” He gestured to the young couple. “Allow me to introduce you to my friends. I like to call them Minion One and Minion Two. You can decide among yourselves which one is which.”

      The young couple attacked. Skulduggery dodged their clumsy grabs and threw them into each other’s way. Dusk blurred and in an eye-blink he was beside Valkyrie, pulling her to her feet.

      Skulduggery lunged at Dusk and they went down, and Skulduggery lost his hat and scarf. Valkyrie stumbled back. Minion One, the male, snarled and came at her. He looked even worse close up. His eyes were dull and red-rimmed, and she could see the bite on his neck beneath his shirt collar. It wasn’t the dainty twin pin-pricks she’d seen in the movies- his neck had been savagely torn open. She could smell the dried blood on his skin. It smelled of copper.

      For a moment she panicked. His hands were gripping her collar, forcing her back, and he was strong. His girlfriend, Minion Two, was right behind him, eager to inflict some damage of her own. Valkyrie made herself relax, remembering the drills she’d run with Skulduggery and Tanith, conditioning her body to relax when every part of her wanted to scream.

      She allowed herself to be pushed back. Her left hand gripped Minion One’s wrist and her right hand came up between his arms to his face. She planted her left foot and dug in and twisted her hips into him, and Minion One collided with her and went over.

      Minion Two snarled and punched and Valkyrie’s world rocked. She deflected the grab that followed, tried a lock that didn’t work then stomped on Minion Two’s knee and shoved her away.

      She saw Skulduggery and Dusk. Now that he could no longer be taken by surprise, Dusk’s supernatural grace and athleticism were keeping him away from Skulduggery’s strikes. He swept out of range of the punches and kicks, and every hold Skulduggery tried, Dusk eased out of before it was even completed.

      He kicked Skulduggery and moved backwards, and as he did so something fell from his pocket. He glanced at it and moved to retrieve it, but Skulduggery held out his hand and it flew into his grip. It was a syringe, filled with a colourless liquid.

      Dusk shrugged. “You can keep it,” he said. “I’ve got plenty more.”

      The Minions were regrouping. Valkyrie clicked her fingers, but failed to ignite a spark. She tried again, and this time she felt the heat of the friction. She focused, curled her hand, and let the energy pour from the centre of her body into her arm, into her palm. Then she took the spark and made it into a flame.

      “Stay back,” she warned. The Minions didn’t answer. She didn’t even know if they were capable of answering.

      The flame expanded into a ball of fire in her hand and she hurled it right at them. 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 Hibernian Cinema stood like an old man, stoop-shouldered and grey-faced, squeezed in on either side by taller, broader and healthier buildings. Its faÇade was a decaying remnant of a forgotten time, and most of the vowels were missing from its name. Fifty years ago, this cinema had thrived, its Dublin audiences flocking to it every weekend. Skulduggery himself had first visited the Hibernian to see High Society, and he’d had a crush on Grace Kelly ever since.

      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