Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

      hina walked quickly through the underground car park, her bodyguards on either side. It was quiet here and vast, and their footsteps echoed loudly.

      One of her bodyguards, a man named Sev, stopped suddenly and looked back the way they had come. His eyes narrowed. “Something’s wrong.” His associate, a petite woman called Zephyr, took a gun from beneath her jacket.

      “Miss Sorrows,” she said softly, “please get behind me.”

      China did as she asked. The bodyguards were training their guns on a seemingly empty part of the car park. As far as China could see, there was absolutely nothing there that could pose any threat – but that was why she had hired them. They were good. They were the best.

      Baron Vengeous stepped into the light. The armour looked to be part of him. Small trails of shadows danced at the seams, like they were still getting used to their new host. Vengeous wasn’t wearing the helmet and his smile was cold. His cutlass hung from his waist.

      Sev and Zephyr moved as one. The years they had spent fighting alongside each other had honed their skills, and when they were together there was no one who could stand in their way.

      Until tonight.

      Zephyr went to fire, but a shadow rose up. It struck her in the chest and she flew backwards, the breath rushing out of her. Sev got a shot off, and then the darkness sliced through him and he stiffened and fell. He was dead before he hit the hard ground.

      Vengeous looked at China. “I said I’d be back for you. But tell me, before I have to hurt you, have you reconsidered your position?”

      China’s shoulders straightened and her voice became light, and she was suddenly as self-assured as always.

      “You mean have I decided to come back into the fold?” she said. “I’m afraid not. My reasons are both complex and varied, but can actually be reduced to something quite simple. I realised that you were all insane and highly irritating. You, in particular, annoyed me.”

      “You are a brave woman to be taunting me.”

      “I’m not taunting you, sweetie. I’m just really bored of this conversation.”

      The shadows moved at Vengeous’s command and China twisted out of the way, the shadows skimming past and slashing into the car behind her.

      Her laugh was birdsong. “If you want my advice, give it up. Lay down that ridiculous armour, put that Grotesquery thing out of its misery and walk back into that nice little cell they’re keeping for you.”

      “I’m disappointed in you, China. The Faceless Ones are about to return and you could have been by their side.”

      Zephyr held out her hand and her gun flew into her grip and she fired, aiming for the head. The shadows became a cloud that covered Vengeous’s face, soaking up the bullets and spitting them out again. When the gun clicked empty, the shadows settled.

      “Please,” Vengeous said, “tell me you have something more to offer.”

      Zephyr jumped up and clicked her fingers and a fireball rocketed across the space between them, but a wave of darkness reared up and swallowed it. Vengeous gestured and the wave smacked into her and she stumbled. She tried to push at the air, but a shadow closed around her wrist and yanked her off her feet. She slammed into a nearby car and the shadow flicked her, she hit the pillar and crumpled to the ground.

      Vengeous turned back to China as if Zephyr had been nothing more than a pesky fly he’d had to swat. “Do you remember the stories we heard as children, about what the dark gods did to traitors? All of those stories will come true for you, betrayer. You will be my gift to them. You will have the honour of being the first life they consume.”

      China slipped off her jacket and let it fall. She breathed out and markings of the deepest black started carving through her skin. They spread over her bare arms, across her shoulders and neck, ran down her chest and trailed beneath her clothes. They carved into her face, twisting and settling into symbols, and she looked at Vengeous with those blue eyes, with those magnificent tattoos etched all over her body, and she smiled. Baron Vengeous smiled back.

      China crossed her arms and tapped the matching symbols on her triceps. They glowed as she flung her arms out and a blue pulse shot at Vengeous, who deflected it with a shield of shadow. The shield turned sharp and it moved like a shark fin along the ground, and China intertwined her fingers and thrust out both palms. The symbols on her palms mingled and became a beam of dazzling light that burst through the fin, scattering bits of shadow.

      Vengeous reached out with the darkness at his fingertips, wrapped them around a car. He stepped back and thrust his arms out and the car lifted into the air. China threw herself to one side. The car missed her by centimetres.

      She moved forward, using the symbols on her body to hurl one attack after another, but Vengeous batted them all aside. Not once, but twice did he send a sneaky tendril of shadow to sweep her feet from under her, and each time she fell, he laughed. When he was close enough, Vengeous sent a slab of solid darkness smashing into her jaw. He grinned. He used the shadows to hit her again, and again she stumbled. The armour shifted, changed according to Vengeous’s needs and intentions.

      China’s hair was a mess. Her make-up was smeared with blood and grime and her clothes were torn and dirty. Vengeous grabbed her and threw her, face first, into a pillar. She hit it and spun, dropping to the ground painfully.

      Vengeous walked over, hunkered down, prodded China with a finger. Her eyes flickered open, in time to see Zephyr rise up behind the Baron. The way she was holding her side, China knew the bodyguard’s ribs were broken. But still she didn’t give up. China allowed herself to admire her determination, as foolhardy as it was.

      Zephyr charged at Vengeous, but the shadows turned sharp, and even as she was leaping they pierced her body from all sides.

      She came to a sudden stop, suspended in the air by these shards of darkness that emanated from Vengeous’ armour. China watched her try to take a breath, but her lungs were punctured, sliced through. Zephyr gagged on her own blood.

      “No challenge,” the Baron said. “No challenge at all.”

      The darkness convulsed and Zephyr’s body tore apart.

      

      p on the dance floor, a portly man was throwing his wife around with gay abandon, twirling and twisting and having a ball, while his wife spent her time looking terrified. When she finally broke free she slapped his arm and went to storm off, but dizziness overtook her and she wobbled sideways and collided with another dancer, and it was like a glorious domino effect in slow motion, with extra squealing.

      Something for Valkyrie to grin at, at least.

      The band announced, in a loud muffle that was completely distorted by the feedback on the microphone, that they were going to slow things down now. The band consisted of two gents in black slacks and blue sparkly jackets. One of them played saxophone, and he wasn’t much good, and the other wore sunglasses and sang and played keyboard, and he didn’t do any of those particularly well. That is to say, he didn’t sing or play the keyboard particularly well – he wore sunglasses as competently as anyone who chose to wear sunglasses at night. None of this seemed to matter to a room full of drunken people who would dance to anything as long as they thought they recognised the tune.

      There was a doorway leading to another room, presumably where all the tables and chairs were stored between functions. It was dark in here and Valkyrie