Playing With Fire

“Vengeous will come home, yes. He has a history here.” He looked at Skulduggery. “We have already sent our people to airports and docks around the country, in the hope of preventing him from entering. But you know better than anyone how difficult the Baron is to … contain.”

“Indeed,” Skulduggery murmured.

“I think we can assume,” Guild continued, “that if Baron Vengeous is not already here, then he will be arriving shortly. You arrested him eighty years ago. I’m relying on you to do it again.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Do better, Detective.”

Skulduggery observed Guild for a moment before answering. “Of course, Grand Mage.”

Guild dismissed them with a curt nod, and as they were walking back through the corridors, Valkyrie spoke.

“Guild doesn’t like me.”

“That’s true.”

“He doesn’t like you either.”

“That is mystifying.”

“So what about Vengeous? Is he bad news?”

“The worst. I don’t think he’s ever forgotten the time I threw a bundle of dynamite at him. It didn’t kill him obviously, but it definitely ruined his day.”

“Is he all scarred now?”

“Magic gets rid of most physical scars, but I like to think that I scarred him emotionally.”

“How about on the Evil Villain Scale? Ten being Serpine, one being Scapegrace?”

“The Baron, unfortunately, turns it all the way up to eleven.”

“Seriously? Because, you know, that’s one more evil.”

“It is indeed.”

“So we’re in trouble then.”

“Oh, yes,” said Skulduggery darkly.

(#ulink_6b4f4367-b347-5055-a683-5117d04b87ff)

he first thing Baron Vengeous did when he set foot on Irish soil was murder someone. He would have preferred to arrive without incident, to have stepped off the boat and disappeared into the city, but his hand had been forced. He had been recognised.

The sorcerer had seen him, picked him out in the crowd as he disembarked. Vengeous had walked away from the crowd, led the sorcerer somewhere quiet, out of the way. It was an easy kill. He had taken the sorcerer by surprise. A brief struggle and Vengeous’ arm had wrapped around the man’s throat. He hadn’t even needed to use his magic.

Once he had disposed of the body, Vengeous walked deeper into Dublin City, relishing the freedom that was his again after so long.

He was tall and his chest was broad, his tightly-cropped beard the same gun-metal grey as his hair. His clothes were dark, the jacket buttons polished to a gleam, and his boots clacked on the street-lit pavements. Dublin had changed dramatically since he’d been here last. The world had changed dramatically.

He heard the quiet footsteps behind him. He stopped but he didn’t turn. The man in black had to walk around him, into his line of sight.

“Baron,” the man said in greeting.

“You’re late.”

“I’m here, which is the main thing.”

Vengeous looked into the man’s eyes. “I do not tolerate insubordination, Mr Dusk. Perhaps you have forgotten.”

“Times have changed,” Dusk responded evenly. “The war is over.”

“Not for us.”

A taxi passed, and the sweeping headlights illuminated Dusk’s pale face and black hair. “Sanguine isn’t with you,” he noted.

Vengeous resumed walking, Dusk by his side. “He will join us soon, have no fear.”

“Are you sure you can trust him? I appreciate that he freed you from prison, but it took him eighty years to do it.”

Were Dusk any other man, this remark would have been the height ofhypocrisy, as he himself had not lifted one finger to help Vengeous either. But Dusk was not any other man. Dusk was scarcely a man, and as such, loyalty was not in his nature. A certain level of obedience perhaps, but not loyalty. Because of this, Vengeous harboured no resentment towards him.

The resentment he harboured towards Sanguine on the other hand …

Dusk’s breathing suddenly became strained. He reached into his coat and fumbled with a syringe, then jabbed the needle into his forearm. He depressed the plunger, forcing the colourless liquid into his bloodstream, and moments later he was breathing regularly again.

“I’m glad to see you’re still in control,” Vengeous said.

Dusk put the syringe away. “I wouldn’t be much good to you if I wasn’t, would I? What do you need me to do?”

“There will be some obstacles to our work, some enemies we will no doubt face. The Skeleton Detective for example. Apparently he has an apprentice now – a dark-haired girl. You will wait for them outside the Sanctuary, tonight, and you will follow them, and when she is alone, you will fetch her for me.”

“Of course.”

“Alive, Dusk.”

There was a hesitation. “Of course,” Dusk repeated.

(#ulink_7f162670-8470-5b97-a93d-869c8c0e0e51)

hey left the Sanctuary and drove across town, until they came to a street lined with ugly tenement buildings. Skulduggery parked the Bentley, wrapped his scarf around his jaw and pulled his hat down low, and got out.

“I notice you haven’t mentioned how I was thrown off a tower tonight,” Valkyrie said as they crossed the road.

“Does it need mentioning?” Skulduggery queried.

“Scapegrace threw me off a tower. If that doesn’t require mentioning then what does?”