Last Stand of Dead Men. Derek Landy
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types save the day at the last minute, then.”
Skulduggery shrugged. “And if we fail?”
“We’re all screwed.”
“You could help make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Moloch laughed again. “This is rich, this is. You people hate us. You despise us. Most of you don’t even rate us as anything above animal.”
“How about we change that? I’ve come to you with a proposition.”
“This’ll be good.”
“We’ll help you with your serum supplies. I know how hard it is these days to find exactly what you need in large enough quantities. We can even manufacture the serum at a consistently safe level.”
“That so? Serum, eh?”
“A lifetime’s supply,” said Skulduggery. “In exchange for your help against the Supreme Council.”
“So we put ourselves in the firing line – and I assume you’d be using us as a first wave of attack kind of thing, not much more than cannon fodder – and as a reward we get all the serum we need to stay human when the sun goes down.” Moloch sat forward, resting his bony elbows on his bony knees. “Do you know how much I hate being human? Do you know how uncomfortable it is at night, being unable to split my skin and emerge? It’s like I have ants crawling inside my flesh. And my skin, it gets so tight it gives me headaches. My gums hurt. They bleed. My teeth want to grow, but they can’t. My fingernails want to lengthen, but they’re held back. All I want to do is lose myself, but my thoughts jingle and jangle inside my head. And you want to give us more serum? No thanks.” Moloch settled back into his couch. “We want more territory.”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “I’m sorry?”
“Look at the good we’ve done for our local community. Crime is down. Vandalism is down. We protect the people and the people protect us. We’ve demonstrated what we can do and we’ve proved that we don’t need you sorcerers looking over our shoulders when we do it. We want more territory.”
“How much more?”
“Another housing estate.”
“Mortal housing estates are not ours to give.”
“We’re not asking you to give it to us. We just want you to not interfere when we make our move.”
“And how exactly would you be making your move? An army of vampires swarming—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Moloch said. “We’d do it slowly, winning over one person at a time. What, you think we haven’t been asked? People see what we’ve done for the residents here. They might not know the full extent of who we are, but they know a good deal when they see it. They want us to spread our influence in their direction. If you agree to that, the vampires will fight on your side.”
“I don’t have the authority to make that kind of deal.”
Moloch laughed. “Like hell you don’t. You might think we’re out of the loop over here, but I have my sources. You may not be an Elder, skeleton, but you run that Sanctuary as much as anyone. They’ll listen to you if you tell them to agree.”
“I’ll inform them of your proposal.”
“You do that.”
Valkyrie followed Skulduggery to the door.
“Oh, girl?” said Moloch, and she turned. He gave her a shark’s smile. “We remember those who have vampire blood on their hands. There’s a stink about them that never quite goes away.”
“Whoever said I wanted it to?” Valkyrie asked, and walked out.
“I’m going to sue every last one of you,” Caius Caviler raged after his head smacked into the wall for a second time. “I’m going to introduce the mortal procedure of a lawsuit into the magical community and then I’m going to sue you and take everything you own.”
The man shoving him was big and broad and not in a very good mood. His name was Grim. He was an English sorcerer who’d been Quintin Strom’s bodyguard the day the Grand Mage had been assassinated. He’d been fired shortly afterwards, and now here he was in America, trying to restore his honour by being as big a jerk as possible.
Vex was in America. He felt it only right to use American insults.
The sorcerer behind Vex was a much calmer fellow. Swain, his name was. Vex had never met him before and, while he was blissfully unconcerned with Vex’s comfort, at least he wasn’t shoving him face first into walls.
“This is an illegal arrest!” Caviler went on. “You can’t put shackles on someone just because of their nationality! We have rights!”
Grim shoved him into another wall. Caviler rebounded, went quiet. He sucked at his bloody lip.
They reached two rows of cells with old-fashioned iron bars in place of walls, and each bar inscribed with a binding sigil.
“In here,” Swain said, nudging Vex towards the nearest one. Vex walked in and Swain locked the door. Grim pushed Caviler into the cell next to him, and Caviler stumbled to his knees beside the bunk.
“Enjoy your stay,” Grim said, and went to leave.
“Big man,” Caviler muttered.
Grim turned. “What was that?”
Caviler got to his feet and looked Grim dead in the eye. “You’re a big man when the other guy’s handcuffed, aren’t you? Big, tough man. I don’t think you’d be so tough if my hands were free.”
“Oh, you don’t, do you?”
“Caius,” Vex said, shaking his head.
“Maybe I should take the cuffs off, then,” said Grim.
Caviler smiled, showing bloody teeth. “By all means.”
Swain took hold of Grim’s arm, tried to pull him out. “Come on, we don’t have time for this.”
Grim shook himself free. “No, no, Mr Caviler here wants a fair go. It’s only right that I should give him the chance.” He took the key from his pocket and threw it at Caviler’s feet. “Well? Come on now. There’s the key.”
“And the moment I go to pick it up you kick me in the face?” Caviler said. “I don’t think so.”
Grim stepped out of the cell. “There. Now you have loads of room.”
Caviler chuckled. “You are smarter than you look. That’s not hard, I’ll grant you, but even so. Once that key is in my hand, you’ll be able to shoot me for attempting to escape. Unfortunately, Mr Grim, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
Grim shrugged, took his pistol from his holster and held it out to Swain.
“What the hell are you doing?” Swain asked. “We have to go. Put the gun away. I’m not taking your damn—”
Grim pointed the gun at Caviler and Swain snatched it off him.
“There,”