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Skulduggery hadn’t always been like this.
He used to be a cold, sardonic man. Frankly, a little terrible. When he was Lord Vile, he was murderous and soulless. Now, the soul bit is up for debate. But he tries his best not to be murderous.
As he sits in his cold, empty house, he hears:
You’re maddening. You never used to be like this.
She was right. He wasn’t opposed to the change, exactly. It was refreshing, to be morally aware, and also it hurt a lot. Was this how mortals felt?
We were in love, Abyssinia had said.
And now you love her, was the bit she didn’t say.
*
Valkyrie wakes up on a cold December night in nothing but a shirt. A bit strange, given the weather isn’t exactly balmy, and also literally just a shirt. Where has her underwear gone? She glances to the other side of the bed – it’s been a while, but…
No, she’s alone.
She finds some trousers and shuffles her way down to the kitchen. There she finds Skulduggery, sprawled out on the couch. She looks at him.
Looks down at herself.
And back at him again.
Surely not.
“Skulduggery,” she says, and he jolts as if he’d been asleep. Which was impossible. Probably just brooding about eternity or something.
“You’re awake,” he says. “Splendid.” His head flops back down again.
“Do you know why I woke up with barely any clothes on?”
“Not a clue. You were rather drunk. Perhaps that made sense to you at the time.”
It was probably something she would do. She considers this. “We didn’t,” she begins, and then stops.
“Didn’t…”
“No, never mind.”
“Do enlighten me. Didn’t what?”
From the look on his stupid face – how could Abyssinia seriously think you couldn’t tell how he felt? – he wouldn’t let it go.
“You know,” spits Valkyrie. “Sleep together.”
Skulduggery goes silent. Like, completely silent. If Valkyrie knew it was that easy to shut him up, she would have done it a long time ago.
“No,” says Skulduggery. “We did not.” He cocks his head at her. “That was your first thought?”
“Well, my first thought was that there had been somebody, and you are the only one here, so.”
“Naturally, this is what drunkenness would lead to.”
“You weren’t even drunk. You can’t get drunk.”
“I was drunk on life, sweetheart.”
She pauses, and her heart makes a funny squeeze. It actually hurts a bit. The shock of the word. He’s never called her that before.
Why is he calling her that now?
“You should probably go home,” says Valkyrie. “I need to feel sorry for myself for a while.”
“I’m afraid I can’t quite do that,” says Skulduggery, and he motions outside. Everywhere is covered in white, and they’re snowed in, snow pressing against the front door.
“You can’t, like, melt it away?”
“I could, but it would be no easy feat getting home. It’s meant to be pass by tonight. But, if you really want me to go…”
He looks at her.
Valkyrie sighs. “Okay. You can hang out here. But I’m going to shower.”
“Understood.”
“You can feed Xena,” she adds, because Xena is gnawing on Skulduggery’s knee a little.
*
When she comes out of the shower, feeling marginally better, there’s Christmas music playing. Valkyrie really isn’t sure how to feel about this. Skulduggery has found a large jumper somewhere in her house and put it on. It fits him disturbingly well.
“It’s only the 10th,” Valkyrie says.
“Don’t be such a grinch,” says Skulduggery. He gets a text, and looks down. He stares at it for a while, before putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Who is it?”
“Abyssinia.”
“Why is she texting you?”
Skulduggery says, “She wants to get back together.”
“Ah.”
“She’s been sending me pictures.”
“I see.” Valkyrie sits opposite him on the sofa. “And do you want to get back together with her?”
“God, no. She’s absolutely insane. Why do you think I killed her in the first place? Twice, that is.”
Valkyrie says, “Fair point. But she’s still, you know. Your ex-girlfriend.”
“She didn’t really understand me, anyway,” says Skulduggery. “I am not sure she ever actually tried.”
“It’s not really that hard.”
“What isn’t?”
“Understanding you.”
Skulduggery seems amused. “Most people would disagree. A lot of people are too terrified to try, actually.”
“I could say the same. About me.”
“You are rather terrifying.”
“Not to you.”
Skulduggery shrugs. “You love me too much to kill me.”
It’s a joke – a casual joke. But it reminds her of blurting out I love you to him, and her face burns. Then she becomes conscious of the fact that Skulduggery must see her going red, and her face goes more red. And she just really hates her life.
“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” Skulduggery asks.
“No,” Valkyrie says quickly. “I’m fine. I’m going to take a nap.”
She goes and leaves him there, looking perplexed, on her sofa.
*
When she comes downstairs again, there’s no Skulduggery to be seen. She looks out of the window, and the snow has cleared a little. The Bentley is gone.
It feels like an aching hole in her stomach.
She gets dressed properly, leaves Xena inside in the warm, and goes out. She doesn’t think he would have gone home, because he hates that place. She hops in her car and drives. There’s a hill near Roarhaven, and she knows he likes to brood there sometimes.
She finds him leaning against his car, unbothered by the cold.
Valkyrie gets out her car and says, “Are you okay?” She wants to joke about him brooding dramatically in the snow, but this seems serious.
“Yes,” he says, unsurprised by her presence. “Fine. Thank you.”
“Then why are you on top of a small mountain looking out at the snow? Your suit is getting wet, by the way.”
He doesn’t even look down at himself, which means it must be bad.
“Do you think your life would be better off without me, Valkyrie?” he asks her.
For a moment, she doesn’t know what to say. The idea of her life without him is – desolate. Empty. She doesn’t know what it would be.
You’re addicted to him, Kes had said.
God.
Was she?
“Of course not.” She remembers he asked her a question. “I – you know. I need you in my life. We’re partners in crime, remember?”
He doesn’t seem satisfied by this. “I could leave. And you could live a normal life.”
“My life will never be normal, Skulduggery. You know that.”
He sags a little bit. “I suppose so.”
“Would your life be better off without me?”
“Don’t ask such ridiculous questions. Of course not.”
“Good.”
She leans against the car next to him.
“Watch the paint,” Skulduggery says, and she just laughs.
When he doesn’t say anything else, Valkyrie looks at him, and he’s looking at her. She doesn’t know where, exactly, but she likes to think it’s at her lips. They’re nice lips. His face flickers and suddenly there’s a human face there.
She leans away from him. “No. That’s not you.”
“Oh.” He drops the face. “But –”
“You’re honestly so dumb sometimes,” she says, and she fits her hand around his neck and kisses him.
It’s strange, but it’s him. Skulduggery puts his arms around her and he has no body heat, but she feels so warm. Her whole body is on fire.
She pulls away, eventually, because she needs to breathe, even if he doesn’t.
“That was,” says Skulduggery, and he’s actually speechless.
Valkyrie can’t stop smiling. She turns her face away so he doesn’t see. They stand there in silence, but it’s comfortable, as the sun dips below the horizon.
*
What Abyssinia doesn’t understand is he loves Valkyrie more than he ever loved her.
We were in love, she had said, but Skulduggery’s love for Valkyrie is all-encompassing. It feels like he’s loved her his entire life. And he’s had a long life.
Skulduggery hasn’t always been like this.
Only since he met her.