Chapter 2: Laughter

Sanguine grinned at the legion of weapons aimed straight at him. He certainly didn’t mind the gun, the fireballs and glowing symbols.

“Put her down, Sanguine,” Marcus snarled.

“Ooh, someone’s jealous. Honey Bunny, mind if I tell ‘im the truth?” Sanguine breathed, his hot, dank breath on her cold skin.

Butterflies struggled to get out of his grip. “Let go of me,” she panted, hand subtly reaching for her sword.

Sanguine was too caught up. “Ya guys know the truth, dontcha? Well, I’ll repeat it for the benefit of the jealous ‘un. Butterflies ‘ere, she likes--”

Sanguine was cut off by a sudden stabbing of his thigh, the sword tip appearing behind his leg. He screeched in pain, hand fumbling over the penetrative wound. Butterflies yanked the sword out of his leg and Sanguine yelled again. She twitched her wrist and shadows reached around, from the darkest corners in the room, all pointed at his major arteries. She walked, the shadows moving with her, forcing Sanguine to limp to the door. She held her sword with both hands, aiming its blood soaked tip at Sanguine’s throat. “Get your ass out of here,” she snarled. “Get out. You’re lying.”

Sanguine laughed, a horrid sound that strained his vocal chords. “And you’re blushin’, baby. I really worked magic on ya, didn’t I?”

Butterflies lunged suddenly and Sanguine avoided her blade just in time. The shadows melted back to where they came as Sanguine yanked a lamp out of its socket. He swung it at Butterflies’ head but she intercepted it with her sword. She cut the lamp in half, leaving Sanguine with only the stem and the lampshade. He stared at it, then looked at the other half, which was still spinning on the carpet, then shrugged, unfolding his old toy. “Oh well.”

He lunged at her this time round, his blade swinging for her throat. She simply leaned back and watched the heavy swing go out of range then leaned in a flicked her wrist. Shadows ripped Sanguine off the ground and threw him against the wall. He stood up and wiped his burst lip, looking a mite annoyed. He lunged at Butterflies again, and this time she leaned to the side, grabbing his arm and then swinging him into the wall, her swing propelled by Sanguine’s momentum. He hit the wall, chin first and collapsed, unconscious.

Butterflies dusted her hands off like it was a job well done. She turned back to the gawking group and shrugged. “What? It’s what I’m trained to do. I’m an assassin, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Marcus gulped. She might be beautiful, she might be graceful, but it certainly didn’t stop her from being deadly. He’d been watching her, love struck, and briefly wondered whether she’d agree to go out with him. He really should have heeded his mother’s advice. She’d spent a brief period of her life with one, and romantic as it was, that relationship did not work out well. Here I am, he thought, watching them drag an unconscious Sanguine out of the door. Making the same mistake.

Somebody tapped him on his shoulder and he turned, a heavy, cold granite fist crashing into his mouth. Marcus reeled back, eyes widening when he saw the other vampire—one that could not have entered. “Help!” he shouted.

Butterflies flipped over him, snarling in defense, then she stopped cold. Her complexion turned pale again.

“Bristol?” she asked softly, her rage building. “Bristol? How… how could you have…” she shook her head, disbelieving. “HOW COULD YOU?” she finally roared, gearing up for another battle, her sword out and flashing.

Bristol could only smile, his lips glistening red, his hunger sated. “Hello, my soul partner, it seems like we haven’t met in a long time.”

Skulduggery and Valkyrie rushed in, gun aiming and fireballs flaring once again. And they saw it: a horrible sight, a vampire, snarling, his mouth stained with blood, most of their evidence gone.