quiet. Always ready to help out the Ghost Finders with the odd weapon or device, in an emergency. The family never knew, I take it?”
“I’m pretty sure not,” I said. “They tend to frown upon such things.”
“Jack did have a life outside the family,” said Catherine.
“So I’m finding out,” I said.
I circulated through the Wulfshead, mingled, made conversation. And the more I heard about Jack, the less I felt I’d ever really understood him. I’d only known him as the Armourer, the old man in his lab coat who hardly ever seemed to leave the Armoury. I’d heard about his earlier career as a field agent, of course, but that had seemed like some other person. More and more, it was becoming clear that I’d known him only at the end of his life, when most of his activities were over. I felt . . . honoured to have shared a few of his last adventures with him. I wished I’d listened to him more, asked more questions when I had the chance.
And finally, because I could no longer avoid it, I just happened to bump into the Soulhunter called Demonbane. I could feel Molly tense at my side. No one really likes or trusts the Soulhunters; they’re all crazy. But then, if you had to do their job . . . you’d want to be clinically insane too. Everyone else was giving him plenty of room. Demonbane was a scrawny, wild-eyed, almost feral presence who could have been any age. Wearing a pale lavender suit of eccentric cut, with big padded shoulders and no shirt underneath. His gaze was unblinking, and his constant smile actually disturbing. He bounced up and down on his bare feet before me and Molly and cocked his head to one side, the better to observe us.
“Hello, Eddie! Commiserations on your loss. Let’s just hope he stays dead, eh? Molly, darling! Haven’t seen you since that nasty business with the Notional Man and the Sleeping Tygers of Stepney. What a night that was . . . You know, you promised you’d call me, but you never did. Why not?”
“Is that a trick question?” said Molly.
I looked at her. “Another of your dodgy exes? Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you’ve got a nasty suspicious nature,” said Molly.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m a Drood.” I fixed Demonbane with a thoughtful gaze. “How did you know my uncle Jack?”
Demonbane grinned. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to nuke the planet from orbit, just to make sure.”
“That can’t be your real name,” I said. “Demonbane . . .”
“Of course it isn’t, Shaman. In our game, to know the true name of a thing is to have power over it. And that kind of knowledge in the wrong hands can get you killed. Or worse. So I chose Demonbane as my username. It’s harsh, it’s brutal, it’s . . . me.”
“But it’s so obvious!” I said. “It’s not exactly original, is it?”
“It’s still a name you can use to make people wet themselves, in certain circles,” he said complacently. “And some things that aren’t even a little bit people.”
“You’re showing off now,” I said.
“This, from a Drood?” said Demonbane. “Ooh! Look at me, wearing my bright shiny armour!” He prodded me hard in the chest with one finger. Still smiling his unwavering and really unsettling smile. “You need the Soulhunters. To do the dirty work your family doesn’t want to soil their precious hands with. And given some of the things you admit to doing, that says a lot . . .”
“Retrieve your finger,” I said. “Or I’ll tie it in a knot.”
Molly moved quickly forward, to stand between us. “What are you doing here, Demonbane? You never gave a damn about the Armourer.”
“The Soulhunters wished to express their regret at his passing,” said Demonbane. “His death means there’s one less of Us. So They are winning.”
“You’re weird,” said Molly.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Demonbane. “Besides . . . our precogs said one of us needed to be here. Because something’s going to happen. Right here, at the Armourer’s wake.”
He turned abruptly and walked away. Molly and I watched him go, and then looked at each other.
“Precogs?” I said. “Since when have the Soulhunters had precogs?”
“Don’t ask me,” said Molly.
“Even my family knows better than to depend on visions of the future,” I said.
“But . . . ,” said Molly.
“Exactly,” I said. “But . . . this is the Soulhunters we’re talking about. Even