Bedlam. Derek Landy
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Nye is responsible.”
“That’s what we think.”
“And so you’re hoping that I still know where that gangly, no-nosed freak might be hiding out.”
“That’s exactly it.”
Reign finished his drink and a waitress appeared, taking the empty glass and replacing it with a fresh one.
Skulduggery watched her hurry away. “Do you have mortals working in your bar, Mr Reign?” he asked.
“Sure do. I got a few of ’em. It’s perfectly legal, and they’re cheaper than hiring one of us. No mage wants to wait tables or scrub toilets, you know?”
“Back to Doctor Nye, Christopher,” said Valkyrie.
“I told you, I don’t associate with Crengarrions. I’m a business owner. I run a bar. I’m not a criminal. I don’t deal drugs, magical or otherwise. I am a law-abiding citizen of Roarhaven, and I pay my taxes, the same as everyone else. Now, I just met you, and I like you, but right now I’m feeling … what’s the word? Harassed. I feel like you’re harassing me. You’re welcome to buy yourself a drink and stay, chat, make new friends. I would love to see you loosen up. But I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call a halt to the interrogation.”
“You don’t have much of a say in it,” said Valkyrie.
Reign’s gym buddy came over then, the tall woman with all the muscles.
“This is Panthea,” said Reign. “She’s one of the door staff here. She is well within her rights to throw you outta this bar. All she needs is an excuse.”
Valkyrie sighed, and stood. The chatter stopped. Only the music continued. Skulduggery started to rise, but Valkyrie put a hand on his shoulder as she stepped round him.
“You want to take the first swing?” she asked, looking up at Panthea.
Panthea sneered. “So you can arrest me for assaulting an Arbiter?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t arrest you for something like that.”
“So … I could knock you the hell out and I wouldn’t land in a jail cell?”
“I doubt you’d be able to,” said Valkyrie, “but sure.”
Panthea smiled.
“So how do you want to do this?” Valkyrie asked. “Want to go outside, want to clear a space, want to just throw each other over tables?”
“I can do whatever you want.”
“Not the third one,” said Reign, “please. These tables cost money.”
“I’ll give you the first shot,” Valkyrie said. “One clean shot, right across the jaw. See if you can knock me out.”
Panthea grinned. “A shot like that, you’ll be eating through a straw.”
“If I could just interject,” Skulduggery said, attempting to rise again.
Once more, Valkyrie put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him down. “Not right now,” she said. “I’m having a conversation with the pretty lady.”
Panthea arched an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”
“You have gorgeous eyes.”
“Compliments won’t stop me from beating you up so bad you crawl home to your mammy.”
“I wouldn’t expect them to, beautiful.”
Panthea folded her massive arms. “OK, well, you can stop, because I am many things, but beautiful is not one of them.”
“Are you kidding?” Valkyrie said. “With your bone structure?”
“I’ve got a busted nose.”
“Your nose has character. It’s cute, and it makes the rest of you even cuter.”
Panthea sneered again, and looked Valkyrie up and down. “Your arms are amazing,” she said at last.
“You think so?”
“You’re hitting all the right angles,” Panthea said, nodding.
“Well, your arms are phenomenal.”
“Yeah,” said Panthea, “but it’s hard to find clothes that fit.”
“Oh, God, I know.”
“I’m confused,” said Reign. “I thought you two were gonna fight.”
Panthea hesitated, then glanced at her boss. “I don’t think I can, Mr Reign. I like her.”
“Awww,” Valkyrie said, “thank you. I like you, too. I’m looking for a gym to train at here in Roarhaven – where do you go?”
“Fit to Fight, down on Ascendance Street.”
“Hey,” said Reign, “I go there. I don’t want her at my gym.”
Valkyrie and Panthea ignored him.
“Actually,” said Panthea, “I only work doors part time – the rest of my day I spend down there as a personal trainer, so …”
Valkyrie bit her lower lip. “Do you think you could fit me in?”
“Definitely.”
Reign stood up. “OK, what the hell is going on?”
“We’re flirting,” said Valkyrie. “This is what flirting is, Christopher.”
“Panthea, you can’t flirt with her,” Reign said, scowling. “She’s an Arbiter and a … a customer.”
Panthea frowned. “Is she a customer if she hasn’t even bought a drink?”
“You have a boyfriend, Panthea.”
“So what?” Valkyrie said. “I have a girlfriend. Doesn’t mean we can’t indulge in a little harmless flirting.”
“Yeah,” said Panthea, “lighten up, Christopher.”
Skulduggery finally stood. “This night has not gone the way I had envisioned,” he said. “Mr Reign – the whereabouts of Doctor Nye?”
“I don’t know,” Reign said, all trace of good humour having left his eyes. “I don’t know where that freak is, and I don’t care. If it did come up with the Splashes – and I’m not saying it did or that I’d even know if it did – then it took its money and it departed without leaving a forwarding address.”
“And how did you contact the good doctor in the first place?”
“I told you, I’m not a criminal. But if I were a criminal, which I am not, then I’d still have nothing to tell you because it would have come to me with the proposal.”
“I see,” said Skulduggery. “Valkyrie, do you have anything to add?”
“Yeah,” she said, and pointed to a man sitting at a table nearby. “That guy.”
The man paled instantly and sat up straighter.
“You’ve been pretty handsy with the wait staff,” Valkyrie said, walking over. “A little pat on the backside here, a little pinch there.”
He shook his head quickly.
Valkyrie loomed over him. “You think that’s a nice thing to do?” she asked. “You think that’s acceptable?”
The man cleared his throat. “I … I …”
“Stand up, please,” Valkyrie said.
The man hesitated, then stood.
“You mind if I give you a little pat?” she asked, and she slapped him, the heel of her hand crashing into the hinge