Playing With Fire

Chapter Thirty-seven TOOTH AND CLAW

VALKYRIE SPRINTED FOR the next wall and leaped over it, into the garden. There was a higher wall ahead, and she ran and snapped her hands out. The air rippled and she was propelled upward, grabbing the top of the wall and hauling herself over. When she landed, the garden was dark, the wall casting a deep shadow over the grass, and she ran up by the side of the house and beyond.

She was on a narrow road now and turned left, her lungs burning with a fierceness she liked, the kind of fierceness she felt when she was swimming.

She knew she could run forever with that fire inside her. She veered off onto an even narrower road, more like a lane than anything else. She could hear them behind her. The pack of Infected was more dispersed now, but the faster ones were steadily gaining. She passed her house.

The pier was just ahead, and she sprinted for it. The sea was rough tonight — she could hear its strength, and she knew this wasn't going to be easy, but she didn't have a choice. They were right behind her.

Did they know? Had Dusk told them about their vulnerability to salt water? A thought flashed into her mind. These weren't full vampires, they were only Infected. Would the water still have the fatal effect? She didn't have time to second-guess herself. This was the only plan she had, and the only chance she had left.

Valkyrie ran to the edge of the pier and jumped, just like she had done on countless occasions when she was a child. She hit the water and it clutched at her and swallowed her completely. She kicked and shot back to the surface. She lost her other shoe. It was too dark for the Infected to see what was below them, and they had no idea there was only one safe way to make that jump. Valkyrie heard sudden cries of pain mixed with sickening thuds as they landed, just like J. J. Pearl, smashing their bones on the rocks.

She'd never swum here at this time of night, however, and the waters were strong and strange to her. They pulled and pushed and threatened to drag her down, or away from the shore, but she fought them. More of the Infected came, splashing into the water all around her, and immediately they began to panic. She heard their cries, choked off by their rapidly constricting windpipes. One of them reached out in desperation, grabbing her and pulling her down.

Valkyrie's head went under and she twisted, prying the fingers from her arm and kicking the Infected person away from her. She lost sight of him in the cold blackness, but she was too far down, and the water was too rough. She was going to drown.

An image flashed into her mind: the previous year, Skulduggery rising from the sea and walking across its surface. Her training. She needed to use her training. Skulduggery had taught her what she needed to know. She just had to calm down and focus.

Ignoring the pain in her lungs, Valkyrie brought her hands in close. She felt the current that was trying to drag her downward, felt its strength and speed, but stopped fighting and let it take her, surrendering herself until she was a part of it. She hooked her fingers and for the first time became aware of the water as a mass of conflicting and opposing forces. She could feel these forces beneath her, above her, and around her. She hooked into them, and then she turned.

The current twisted behind her and now she was swimming, buffeted by the water. She passed the Infected as they flailed, and she broke the surface, taking a deep breath. She thrust her arms out and caught the current again, went under, and for a terrible second thought she had misjudged this whole thing, but she regained her control, guided the current as best she could toward the beach. She let go and the water around her turned gentle — relatively gentle — and she swam on until she could stand.

Gulping in lungfuls of air, she looked back at the pier. It was hard to see because of the lights that faced her, making everything before her one solid black mass. She dragged herself out of the sea. The tide was in, so there wasn't much beach for her to stagger onto, but she managed to stagger onto the shore that remained. And then something came out of the shadows and struck her and she hit the sand.

She struggled and twisted, but now there was someone else there and a fist hit her face.

The shape of a man, standing above her, crouching slightly.

Dusk.

The human flesh he had tried to remove still clung in places to his vampire skin, and it looked raw and red and painful. His right hand was tipped with talons, but his left was human, and still had a watch strapped to its wrist. His face was the face of a man, a handsome man who now had a scar, but the fangs of a vampire had split his gums and torn his lips.

Valkyrie flexed her fingers, waited until her head was clear. Dusk wasn't moving.

She thrust her hand out and now he did move, grabbing her wrist before she had the chance to push at the air. He hauled her up and spun her around, grabbed her from behind and exposed her throat.

Valkyrie froze.

The vampire's laugh was guttural. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to turn you. You will be like I am."

She tried to speak, tried to say something, but her words had been taken from her. She felt his breath on her skin.

"Do you know who you're going to kill first, Cain?" he asked. "Do you know who you are going to rip apart, because the bloodlust will be the only thing that matters? Your parents."

"No," she breathed.

"For what you've done to me, for the scar you've inflicted and the pain you're causing me right now, I'm going to make sure that when the time comes, you'll be begging me to let you kill your own parents."

And then a voice. "Dusk."

The vampire turned and there was someone there, in the dark, leaping at them. Valkyrie felt an impact and fell forward. She heard the vampire hit the sand and snarl. She looked back as the two figures clashed.

The one who had saved her — she had thought it was Skulduggery but saw now that it was not —

was fast, as fast as Dusk. He wore a ragged old suit and a battered top hat.

Dusk swiped and the figure in the top hat ducked, his own fingernails raking across the vampire's belly, drawing blood.

Dusk roared in anger and the figure flipped, driving a foot into his face. Dusk dropped back, then suddenly lunged. He caught the newcomer in mid leap, taking them both into the surf. Claws slashed, and the man in the top hat cried out.

Valkyrie grabbed a stone, flat but thick, and heavy. Dusk was on his feet, above the newcomer, and Valkyrie ran at him and slammed the stone onto the back of his head. Dusk dropped slightly, and the newcomer kicked up, catching Dusk full in the face.

Valkyrie felt the air between them and she splayed both of her hands, hitting Dusk in the back and taking him off his feet. He splashed into the waves.

The newcomer suddenly sprang straight up, disappearing into the dark.

Dusk was rising out of the water, his human face contorted with hatred. His mouth, which had been tightly closed against the salt water, opened in a snarl. He couldn't see the man in the top hat, but he glared at Valkyrie and moved toward her. At the last moment he looked up, in time to see the newcomer dropping down on top of him.

The newcomer's heels slammed into Dusk's upturned face, and the vampire crumpled into the wet sand.

Valkyrie watched the man in the top hat examine his wounds and mutter.

"Is he dead?" she asked.

"Naw," he answered, a little out of breath. "Just sleepin'." He spoke with a thick London accent. "Savin' people ain't normally my thing, but I figure since he was after you, you've got somethin' to do with Vengeous, am I right?"

"Well. . . I'm trying to stop him, yes."

"Good enough. See, they roped me into doin' 'em a favor. Didn't appreciate that. So, here I am, doin' you a favor. That big guy, the ugly one? They're keepin' him at Clearwater Hospital.

Don't know what you can do with that information, but if it messes up Sanguine's plans, then I'm happy."

He doffed his hat to her and started to walk off.

She frowned.

"You're Springheeled Jack."

He stopped and turned. "Yes I am, love."

"You're a bad guy."

His smile was unpleasant. "Right again."

She stepped back. "You're meant to be in prison. Tanith put you there."

Jack frowned. "You know Tanith Low?"

"Of course."

"She's . . . she's close?"

"She's somewhere around here, yes. She's with Skulduggery."

"Oh, bloody 'ell," Jack said, looking around nervously. "Oh, that's not good. 'Ave I just helped 'em?"

"I'm afraid you have."

"Oh for . . . oh for 'eaven's sake. Well that's just . . . That's just typical, that is. Don't tell either of 'em I was here, right? I saved your neck. Literally, your neck I saved. Promise me."

"Are you going to leave the country?"

"I'm leavin' now."

"Then I'll tell them tomorrow. If any of us are still alive."

"You're a right lady, you are. G'night now. And good luck."

And with a leap and a bound, Springheeled Jack was gone.