bus stop. Five bored-looking teens stood in school uniform.
“My reflection’s not there,” she said with a frown.
“Maybe it got delayed.”
She shook her head. “It left before me.”
The Bentley slowed. “What do you want to do?”
“It’s probably nothing. It could have cut across the Green … although it should still have made it here by now. But no, it’s probably nothing.”
Skulduggery pulled over to the side of the road and tilted his head at her. “You use that reflection a lot more than is recommended,” he said. “You ought to expect some unusual behaviour every now and then.”
“I know …”
“But you want to go and look for it, don’t you?”
“I just want to check that everything’s all right. I’ll get out here, go through the Green.”
“I’ll turn around, head back to the pier, meet up with you there.”
Valkyrie nodded, made sure no one was looking and then got out of the car and ran between two buildings. She climbed the fence and dropped to the grass on the other side. The green was actually a small park, an oasis of trees and flowerbeds and a fountain, tucked behind Main Street. It was the site of many a game of football when Valkyrie was younger.
She could have been overreacting. Her reflection had probably met some people Valkyrie knew. In fact, Valkyrie herself could be the one to ruin things, by running straight into a situation that the reflection was handling with its usual efficiency. And then she heard her own scream.
Valkyrie left the main path, running towards the small clump of trees. Beyond the trees, near the fountain, there were two figures struggling. It was her reflection, trying to break free from a man in black.
“Hey!” Valkyrie shouted.
The man in black looked up. He was pale and oddly beautiful, and way too calm. “There you are,” he said. “I was almost fooled. Almost. But this one doesn’t feel fear. And I can smell fear.” He thrust the reflection from him, and it stumbled to its knees.
“Get to school,” Valkyrie told it. The reflection nodded, picked up the fallen schoolbag and ran past her through the trees, not even glancing back at the attacker.
Valkyrie glared. “Who are you? How did you find out where I live?”
“I followed you,” he said. “I lost you when you came into town, so I decided to wait around until you showed up again. I even made some new friends.”
Now she saw them, a young couple, walking towards her. She knew them. She didn’t know their names, but she’d seen them around, holding hands, laughing. They weren’t laughing now. They were pale, as pale as the man in black. They looked sick and there were bloodstains on their clothes. They watched her with dark, dead eyes. Valkyrie looked at the man in black, remembered the graceful way he had moved. “You’re a vampire,” she breathed.
“And you are Valkyrie Cain and you’re coming with us.”
She couldn’t fight them. There was no way she was even close to being ready.
So she ran.
The young couple were after her, sprinting, feet thudding on the grass. She kept ahead of them. She didn’t even have to look back, she could hear how close they were. But she couldn’t hear him. The man in black was running at her side, moving without effort. She tried to duck away, but he reached out a lazy hand, his fingers closing around her arm, and stopped suddenly. She jerked to a painful halt.
She swung a punch but he moved slightly and her fist connected with nothing but air. She tried to kick and he took a step, the expression on his face never going beyond bored, and he grabbed Valkyrie’s arm and twisted it behind her back and her knees hit the ground.
“The Baron wants you alive,” he said. “Bear in mind, he did not specify unharmed. Do not try to hit me again.”
“How about me?” Skulduggery said as he ran up behind him. “Can I hit you?”
The man in black released Valkyrie and turned, too late to stop Skulduggery’s fist from smacking into his jaw. He staggered and Skulduggery splayed his hand. The air rushed into the vampire and sent him backwards, head over heels. Instead of sprawling on to the grass, however, his body moved with an inhuman agility and he twisted sideways and landed on his feet.
“Detective,” he murmured.
“Dusk,” Skulduggery said. “It’s been a while. Still evil?”
The 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