Taking her coffee with her, she rode the elevator up, ignored the looks she got and made her way to the Records Department. Skulduggery was the only person here at this hour of the morning. He was wearing another three-piece suit – darkest blue this time, with a white shirt and blue tie. His hat was off and he tapped at a computer. A thick file lay open beside him, spiral-bound. Entire lines were blacked out.

“This it?” she asked, flicking through the pages.

“That’s the Neoteric Report,” he said, still looking at the screen.

“What’s with the black lines?”

“Sensitive information, too secret for the likes of us.”

She sat, took a sip of coffee. It was her first from a Roarhaven café, and it was amazing. She wasn’t surprised. Of course the coffee would be amazing here. Sorcerers loved doing things better than the mortals. “So tell me,” she said.

Skulduggery tapped a little more, then turned in his swivel chair. “I think we have our suspect.”

She frowned. “Omen was right?”

“He may have good instincts for this kind of thing.”

“But we don’t care how good his instincts are, do we? Because we’re cutting him loose, right?”

“Absolutely,” Skulduggery said. “But I thought it’d be nice if I could tell him that his hunch was right before I essentially fire the boy.”

Valkyrie shrugged. “Suppose that is a nice thing to do. What have you found?”

“The names of some of these Neoteric sorcerers Parthenios Lilt dealt with are the same names that Temper Fray passed on to me as anti-Sanctuary operatives. Two in particular stand out – Richard Melior and Azzedine Smoke. Much of the information about these two has been classified, but, from what I can gather, Melior is something of a Vitakinetic and Smoke has the ability to corrupt those he touches.”

“What do you mean by corrupt?”

“Control,” said Skulduggery. “According to this, if he touches you, you essentially become a psychopath, and you’re compelled to obey whatever order he gives you.”

She frowned. “That’s a dangerous skill to have.”

“Yes, it is. The corruption lasts for approximately forty-eight hours, but a lot of damage can be done in two days. As we both know.”

“So if we’re going up against someone who could basically brainwash us and turn us against each other …”

“We’d better not let him touch us,” Skulduggery finished. “Or you’d better. I don’t have a brain to wash, as it were.”

Valkyrie grunted. “And the healer?”

“Doctor Richard Melior,” said Skulduggery. “A practising surgeon in a mortal hospital – Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, in case you’re interested—”

“I’m not.”