“Nice place,” Tanith said. “I have to admit, I didn’t see you as the suburbanite type. I figured you’d be at home in a nice crypt somewhere, surrounded by candles and tapestries. The cage is a nice touch, though. Homey.”
He’d heard what had happened, of course. He’d heard that a Remnant had taken up permanent residence inside Tanith’s mind and body. But that still didn’t mean he liked her.
“We’re here to make you a proposition,” said Sanguine.
“I’m not interested.”
“We’re putting a team together,” said Tanith.
“It’s been tried. It didn’t work.”
“We need your help.”
“You can kill people without me.”
“This isn’t about killing anyone,” Tanith said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. We want to save someone. We want to save Darquesse. A group of Elementals and Adepts has formed, a small team who are working on a way to stop her when she appears. Our aim is to stop them from stopping her.”
“Why would I want to stop that? When she comes, she’ll destroy the world.”
“Not all of it,” said Tanith. “Just the civilised part. And we’re going to help her. Won’t that be wonderful? She’ll kill sorcerers and mortals and burn cities to cinders and sink entire continents into the sea, and you’ll be free to hunt and kill the survivors. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“I don’t care about any of this.”
“We know you don’t,” Sanguine said, and nodded. “We know you’re looking out for number one. And hey, buddy, I get that. I do. But we need you on our side. It’s gonna be you, us, a few others... and Jack.”
“Then I cannot be on your team. The last time I saw Springheeled Jack I was abandoning him to the Sanctuary authorities in Ireland.”
“So you betrayed him,” Tanith said. “So what? A little betrayal never hurt anyone. Listen, I know I can convince Jack to play nice. I have something he wants, after all. Just like I have something you want.”
“And what is that?”
“Dusk, I look at you, and I see a soul without purpose. I mean, here you are, living in a very nice house with a time-locked cage where the couch should be. I don’t know how you came to own this place – I’m sure the story is suitably entertaining – but you don’t belong here. You’ve lost your focus.”
“You think you can provide that focus?” Dusk asked. “I don’t care about Darquesse. I don’t care about anything.”
“But that’s a little bit of a lie, isn’t it? See, Dusk, you do care about something. You care about one thing. You’ve always cared about this one thing, because you’re a vampire – and this one thing plagues all vampires who were not turned willingly.”
Dusk frowned.
“I know who turned you, Dusk.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not. I know your story. Out walking one night, you were attacked; a nearby farmer came to your aid − he frightened off the beast... You recovered at his cottage, under the watchful eye of the farmer and his wife. And on the third night, you tore off your skin and devoured them. By then, of course, the one who had turned you was long gone.”
“And how do you know who it was?”
“An Elemental was in the area around the time all of this was happening. He reported back to the Sanctuary like a good little operative, and in his report he mentioned the name of a vampire he had met. I know the name, Dusk. And I’ll tell you – providing you help us.”
“Tell me now.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“I try not to lie to vampires.”
“Tell me who it was.”
Tanith hopped down off the cage. “No. Here’s the deal. You help us. You get along with everyone else in the team, even Jack, and when it’s over, I give you the name, and you go off and do whatever you want to do. Vampires hold grudges, don’t they? I’d imagine you’ve been holding this grudge for a good long time.”
“This might be it,” said Sanguine. “This might be the one thing to make you break your precious little vampire code – never kill another one of your kind. What do you think, Dusk? Might this be what tips you over the edge?”
Dusk said nothing.
Not even twenty minutes later, a long-fingered hand scuttled over the ledge like an unsettlingly ugly spider, followed by an arm and then a battered top hat with a lined, drawn, misshapen face beneath. Jack stayed down there, chin level with the roof, eyes on Sanguine.
“No one else here,” Sanguine told him.
Jack’s voice was high and strained. “’Cept for Cleavers,” he said. “Cleavers’re everywhere.”
“Not here. Not right now. I’ve been here a whole half-hour and I haven’t seen a single one.”
“They’re about.”
“That I know. This whole area’s one big search zone for them. But if you’ve got the skills, sneaking in and out isn’t much of a problem. Come on up. We have time for a chat, don’t we?”
Jack stayed put for a moment, and then with a grace so effortless it would have widened Sanguine’s eyes had he not scooped them out long ago, he pulled himself up and stood there on the edge. His feet were bare, his clothes – top hat and tails – worn and musty.
“How’d you know where to find me?” Jack asked.
“I didn’t,” said Sanguine. “I reckoned you’d be keeping an eye out, though. Figured you’d find me if I waited long enough.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“That so? You’re lookin’ pretty calm for someone who should be worried.”
“And why should I be worried? We’re two old friends, standing on a rooftop, chatting.”
“Last time I chatted to you, you had all these plans to set off the Desolation Engine, remember that? And then that sneaky vampire git turned and ran, left me to get pummelled and thrown in a cell.”
Sanguine shrugged. “And how is that my fault? You know full well never to give a vampire good reason for revenge, and yet you still stopped him from killing Valkyrie Cain on that beach, four years ago.”
“There were, what do you call them? Extenuatin’ circumstances. You’d all lied to me.”
“You