“So,” he said, “you worked it out. You really are as good as some people say you are.”
“Only some ?” I said. “I must be slipping. So you admit to the murders?”
“Admit to them? I’m proud of them!” Rogue laughed softly. “I am of the Family of Immortals, the only true immortal here!”
His voice rose loudly across a growing silence as everyone in the ballroom realised what was happening and shushed each other. By the time he’d stopped speaking, everyone was looking at us, drinking in every word. I kept my gaze fixed on Rogue. I couldn’t afford to give him the slightest advantage.
“I killed King of Skin and loved it,” said Rogue. “I gloried in it! Spreading a little fear and horror in the night . . . is what my family have always done best. I killed the Bride, too; but unfortunately, she got over it. I’ll have to try harder next time.” He smiled around him, and hardened immortals actually flinched back from him. “You call yourselves immortals; you’re nothing but food to me.”
“I know how you did it,” I said. “I even have the weapon, which explains what happened to King of Skin’s body. Now tell me why you did it. Come on; you know you want to.”
“King of Skin was an offspring of my family,” said Rogue, apparently entirely at his ease. “A half-caste. Only potentially immortal. He found a way to extend his life by killing people and wrapping himself in their skins, their lives. Harvesting their stolen years. He’s been at it for well over a century, to my certain knowledge. You saw all those skins . . . And you had no idea what he really was, did you? No idea at all that you had a serial killer as part of your precious Authorities.”
“You knew about him; but you never did anything about him, till now,” I said. “Why now?”
“I didn’t care what he did. He only killed mortals; and that’s what they’re for. I only killed him now because I had a use for him. You should be grateful, Walker. I’ve done you a positive favour. He would have had to come after you eventually, you and all the other Authorities. He couldn’t risk your finding out the truth about him. And then . . . he would have been the Authorities and ruled the Nightside. The wolf in charge of the sheep.”
“You still haven’t said why you killed him.”
“I killed him first because he was so full of life. And I wanted it.”
“And the Bride?” I said.
Rogue sniffed. “I shouldn’t have, but I never could resist temptation. She wasn’t really suitable for what I was after, but . . . she led the Spawn of Frankenstein when they fought alongside the Droods to invade my family estate! The Spawn live there now, in what used to be my home! She wasn’t on my list; but when I saw her standing there, I couldn’t hold back. She deserved to die for what she did to my family.”
“You weren’t going to stop with King of Skin,” I said. “He was only the first . . . You said you had a list?”
“Of course,” said Rogue. “I only came here to make my mark, with these so-called immortals. I came here to identify them all, so I could track them down afterwards and steal their lives. It’s not like they were doing anything important with them. I would have used the mirror shard to take their future years, store them, then use them to create a new Family of Immortals! We don’t breed true, you see. Never have; or the world would be hip-deep in immortals by now. We breed slow and rarely, and the offspring are only ever long-lived. But with so many stolen years at my disposal, what a family I could have made! We would have moved into all the important places and positions, here in the Nightside, and taken control. And then we would have used the Nightside as a base, from which to re-establish the family’s power in the world! Become what we once were, what we were meant to be! Then, let all the peoples of the world tremble and despair!”
“You had it all thought out,” I said.
He looked at me sharply, annoyed at having his ranting interrupted. “Thought out in every detail. When you’re an immortal, you get used to planning for the long term. King of Skin was just the beginning. I had a reign of terror planned for all the Nightside immortals, and it isn’t over yet. But I hadn’t expected Hadleigh Oblivion to be here, guarding the door, preventing me from making my escape. He would have seen though any face I took on. He shouldn’t have been here. You shouldn’t have been here. What were you doing here, tonight of all nights? Well . . . It doesn’t matter. I will do what I will do, and none of you can stop me.”
He laughed in my face, then turned and plunged into the watching crowd. They shrank back with loud cries of alarm, but he was already in among them, his face changing as he flesh-danced. In the space of a moment, he was someone else, and in all the confusion no-one was able to say who he’d changed into. There was a general rush to the door, to get out of the ballroom. Hadleigh stood his ground, and raised one hand. Bolts of lightning stabbed down out of nowhere, striking again and again inside the ballroom, making a barrier between him and everyone else. The light was blinding, and the air stank of ozone. The rush to the door was over as soon as it had begun. Everyone stood very still, looking nervously around them, trying to spot the danger in their midst; but wherever they looked, only familiar faces looked back. Razor Eddie and Dead Boy forced their way through the crowd to join me. I looked at them both carefully.
“Oh come on,” said Dead Boy. “Who’d look like me if they didn’t have to?”
“Tell me something only you could know,” I said.
“All right,” said Dead Boy. “You’re a dick.”
We both laughed. Razor Eddie looked at me strangely.
“We both loved the X-Men movies,” I explained.
Razor Eddie nodded and produced his pearl-handled straight razor. The steel blade shone supernaturally bright, and everyone felt a sudden strong desire to be somewhere else. I nodded, and Eddie put his razor away again. Some things you can’t fake. We all looked out over the watching crowd.
“How do you want to do this?” Dead Boy said quietly.
“I use my gift,” I said, just as quietly. “He can’t hide from that. I’ll pick him out, and then you two help me slam him to the floor and stamp on his head until we’re sure he can’t concentrate enough to shape-change again.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Razor Eddie.
I raised my gift again. It was getting to be hard work now; the more I used my gift, the more it took out of me. I felt a quick runnel of blood spurt out of one nostril, and a sharp fierce pain filled my forehead. I’d pay for this later; but right now there was work to be done. I forced my way past the pain and concentrated; and immediately a single figure stood out in the crowd. I plunged forward, with Dead Boy and Razor Eddie right behind me, and the crowd scattered before us like startled pigeons. I ignored all the cries of shock and protest, fixed on the figure before me. He didn’t try to run. He stood still and regarded me with a single raised eyebrow.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” said Hadleigh Oblivion.
“Nice try,” I said. “But Hadleigh’s still at the door, where I told him to be.”
“I was standing at the door,” said Hadleigh, “until Bettie Divine came over and said you needed help, so I came forward. Whoever’s at the door now, that isn’t me.”
I didn’t even look at the door. “Nice try, Rogue,” I said. “But Hadleigh wouldn’t leave his position unless I personally put someone there to relieve him. My gift found you here. And my gift is never wrong.”
Hadleigh’s face slumped suddenly, and his shape changed in a moment. Where Hadleigh had been standing there was now an eight-foot-tall centipede, black as night with a nightmare head, striking out with dozens of clawed legs. It reared up so that its flat head banged against the ceiling, its complex mouth parts clacking loudly. The immortals climbed all over each other, trying to get away. Dead Boy waded in, slamming powerful punches into its heaving thorax, while Razor Eddie darted and whirled around it, severing one clawed leg after another with his straight razor.