She turned, walked up the wall, made sure no one was waiting for her, and climbed on to the roof. If poor old Billy-Ray was dead, she’d need to find someone to replace him, which wasn’t going to be easy. He was a fully functional sociopath, which made him useful in all sorts of fun ways. And she had a plan. She needed him for her plan to succeed. It was a good plan, too. Sneaky. She was proud of it, and looked forward to seeing how it would work out. She really hoped Sanguine wasn’t dead.

Tanith stopped moving. On the building opposite, a man stood. Dressed in grey, with a visored helmet and a scythe in his hands. He hadn’t seen her yet. She stepped backwards, started to turn, saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Another Cleaver, leaping at her, the blade of his scythe darkened with fire to stop it glinting in the streetlights.

Tanith threw herself back, felt the scythe whisper past her throat. The Cleaver landed and came forward and she rolled and got up, her sword clearing its sheath. She met the next swipe and kicked, but he twisted his body out of the way as he spun the scythe so that the long handle cracked against her head. Cursing, Tanith stumbled, swung wildly with her sword to keep him back. The scythe handle hit her knee and she howled, and barely managed to fend off the blow that would have separated her pretty head from her pretty body.

The other Cleaver jumped across the chasm between the buildings, his legs tucked under him. Tanith wished she were an Elemental, so she could send a gust of wind to throw him back, let him fall to his death. But she wasn’t, and he landed, and now she had two Cleavers to deal with.

There was a time when they’d been on the same side, but that was back before the Remnant had squirmed its way into her soul. That dark little creature had taken her conscience, ripped it away from her, but in its place she had been given so many extraordinary gifts, as twisted as they were terrible. One of these gifts was a brand-new purpose, and this purpose meant that she could not allow these Cleavers to beat her here, tonight, on this rooftop. Darquesse depended on her.

They closed in. Tanith could see her own reflection in their visors. Her lips were black, and black veins riddled her face, the only outward signs that she had a Remnant inside her. She bared her teeth in a crazy-woman smile and said, “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.”