The Bride Wore Black Leather

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