“But every once in a while, I get the urge. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? The urge for destruction. The urge to hurt, maim, kill. It’s quite a thing, to experience that urge, to let it wash over you, to give in to it. It’s addictive. It’s all-consuming. You lose yourself to it. It’s quite, quite wonderful. I can feel it, even as I speak, tapping around the edges of my mind, trying to prise me open, slip its fingers in. And it would be so easy to let it happen. But we’re all like that, aren’t we? We’re all barbarians at our core. We’re all savage, murderous beasts. I know I am. I’m sure you are. The only difference between us, Mr Prave, is how loudly we roar. I know I roar very loudly indeed. How about you? Do you think you can match me?”

Prave had grown quite pale. His fists were no longer clenched and he was no longer gritting his teeth. He took a step back, then another one. He hesitated, then slowly turned and went back to his sweeping brush.

China shrugged, and Scorn appeared at the door.

“China,” she said. “So sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“Not at all,” China smiled. “Mr Prave here was entertaining me. I do so like how you’ve kept him around.”

Scorn shrugged. “Ah, well, I made the mistake of feeding him, you see, and now he just won’t go away.”

China heard Prave muttering under his breath.

“But I didn’t ask you here to help me insult the help, as fun as that may be. I have a surprise for you.”

“Let me guess,” China said. “You’ve changed your mind and you’re going to put all this nonsense behind you.”

“Not even close,” said Scorn. “Do you want another try? I bet you won’t guess what it is.”

“You’re going to tell Skulduggery Pleasant what you’re planning to do and let him shoot you in the head.”

“Wrong again, I’m afraid. Do you want one more try?”

“I’d love one more try.”

“Then go ahead, China. Guess what the surprise is.”

China paused, tapped her chin thoughtfully and smiled. “I know. Is it, by any chance, Jaron Gallow with a brand-new arm?”

Oh, she wished she had a camera to capture the look on Eliza Scorn’s face. Gallow emerged from the doorway behind, suddenly unsure, suddenly paranoid that he’d been betrayed, that he was walking into a trap. There was a sudden fear in his eyes that was almost impossible to fake, and now China did believe him.

“How did you know?” Scorn asked. Almost snarled, in fact.