Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 7 - 9

Valkyrie laughed. “Wow. Now that was not the reaction I was expecting.”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant...”

She held up her hands. “Fletcher, relax. It’s no big deal.”

“No, Val, it’s just, I’m kind of seeing someone.”

Now it was her turn to say, “Oh.”

“She’s really nice,” he said. “We’ve only been going out for two months or so, but she’s dead cool. You’d like her, I think. Here, hold on.”

He vanished.

Valkyrie blinked. He was going out with someone? He had found someone before she had? While not having any kind of plan or timetable arranged, she was still pretty sure that she was supposed to move on before he did. She’d dumped him, after all.

Fletcher reappeared before her, holding hands with a pretty girl.

“Valkyrie,” he said, “this is Myra.”

Myra had light brown hair and a nice smile and Valkyrie wanted to punch her in her stupid face. “Hi,” Valkyrie said.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Myra, and they shook hands. Valkyrie was pretty sure she’d be able to crush that little hand in hers. When Myra spoke, she spoke with an Australian accent. It was annoying. “Fletcher’s told me all about you. To be honest I was starting to think he’d made you up. I reckoned no one could be as great as the way he described you.”

Valkyrie found a smile somewhere and put it on. “I have my moments,” she said. “So how did you two meet?”

Myra wrapped an arm round Fletcher’s waist. “He saved me. There was a fire at my college and he got me out. My knight in shining armour.”

Valkyrie blinked. “You’re mortal?”

Fletcher laughed. “I thought you hated that term.”

“What? Oh, yeah, I do, I meant you’re not a sorcerer, then?”

Myra shook her head. “Depressingly normal, I’m afraid. But don’t worry, I can keep a secret. Fletch was telling me about all the things you can do and what a kick-ass fighter you are and all that. That is so cool. I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag, if I’m being honest. I’d love to be able to do magic, but I reckon having a boyfriend who can do magic is almost as good.”

Valkyrie didn’t want to hit her any more. Myra was too nice a person to hit. Valkyrie wanted to hit someone, though. Maybe Fletcher.

“I’ve been wanting to introduce you two for a while,” Fletcher said, “but I didn’t know how to do it without making it look like I was trying to prove a point. Like, Look at me now, Valkyrie, I have a new girlfriend and a new life. But... well, here we are. I just want you to know that there are no hard feelings about what happened and how it ended and I’m glad we’re still, you know, friends.”

“Yeah,” Valkyrie said. “Me too.”

They stood there, the three of them, all friends, in awkward silence.

“We should get going,” Fletcher said. “I grabbed her just as she was about to take the muffins out of the oven.”

Valkyrie looked at Myra. “You make muffins?”

“Not very well,” Myra said. “I used to make them with my mum all the time. It’s such an old person thing to do, isn’t it? Make muffins?” She laughed. “Anyway, it was so good to meet you, Valkyrie.”

“Good to meet you, too.”

Myra smiled, and Fletcher gave her that grin that used to make Valkyrie’s heart beat faster, and then they both vanished.

“Well,” Valkyrie said aloud, “that sucks.”

(#ulink_42fc51b7-fca3-52e0-98ab-dff44c8cda10)

lsie O’Brien wasn’t a brave girl. She wasn’t an especially bright girl, or an especially talented girl, and she definitely wasn’t an especially pretty girl. But these things she already knew about herself. These were the honest, inescapable facts that formed the basis of who she was. As for bravery, she’d never given it a second thought. She’d more or less assumed that she’d be the type of person to do the right thing in a bad situation, but here she was, trailing from bad situation to bad situation with no idea what the right thing to do was any more.

Kitana and Doran certainly didn’t know. They were lost. They were drunk on this power they’d been given. There was no hope for them. She didn’t know if there was any hope for her, either, but she didn’t much care about that. The only person she cared about was Sean, but he was slipping away every day, becoming more like the others.

“Keep up,” Kitana said, and Elsie dutifully trotted along after them a little faster. All she wanted to do was turn and run. But she didn’t. She kept following, because that’s what she did. She was a follower.

They got to Doran’s house. His dad was out. His mum was gone, having abandoned the family years ago. Doran never talked about it and Elsie had never asked. Not that he’d have answered her if she had. When Doran was ready, they went inside, into the living room, where his older brother was playing a video game.

“Hey, Tommy,” said Doran.

Tommy looked around. His scowl turned nonchalant when he saw Kitana. She had a habit of making guys act differently.

“Hey,” he said, sitting a little straighter.

Doran was trying not to grin, and doing a really bad job of it. “What’s the game like? Is it good? Are you good at it? Are you good at playing your little video game?”

Tommy put the controller on the coffee table and slowly stood up. “What’s this?” he asked. “Acting tough in front of your friends? You weren’t so tough last week when I twisted your arm so much you started crying, were you?”

Whatever reaction Tommy was expecting, a wider grin was not it.

“No, I wasn’t,” said Doran. “Wasn’t nearly as tough as I am now, big brother. You want to try that again?”

Tommy’s eyes flickered to Kitana, then back to Doran. “You really want that? You really want me to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend?”

“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” Kitana said sweetly. “I prefer older men. What age are you, Tommy?”

“Twenty,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

“Twenty,” Kitana breathed. “That’s the perfect age for me.”

Tommy had a grin of his own now, and he looked back at Doran. “Why don’t the rest of you run along? Kitana, you want to hang out for while?”

“Actually,” said Kitana, “I’d really like to go somewhere private. Maybe go for a drive.”

Doran laughed so suddenly it was like a gunshot. “Yeah, Tommy,” he said. “Take her for a drive. Take her for a drive in your car. How is your car, anyway? Is it in good shape? Is it roadworthy? Have you seen it lately?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your car,” Doran said, laughing again. “Have you seen it in, say, the last few minutes?”

Tommy frowned. “You better not have done anything to it.”