The Bride Wore Black Leather

can’t let all these people die.”
    “Julien, I can’t!”
    “You have to! It’s all right, John. I understand. Never did think I’d die in bed. At least this way, I get to die saving lives. Doing something that matters.”
    “Julien . . . please . . .”
    “Sorry I won’t be there for your wedding. Now say good-bye, and kill me. Save the Hospice. Then track down the Sun King and stop him. And don’t screw it up, or I’ll come back and haunt you.”
    “Good-bye, Julien,” I said. And then I took his head in both hands, and snapped it all the way round, breaking his neck.
    All the light disappeared, and he was just a man again. He collapsed into my arms, and I held him tightly, ignoring the throbbing pain in my burned hands. I didn’t cry. There was so much anger in me there wasn’t room for anything else. I would find the Sun King. And I would kill him. Because he’d made me kill my good friend. The only decent man in the Nightside.
    “Stop him!” Dr. Benway yelled suddenly. I looked up to see her pointing a shaking, accusing finger at me. “Someone stop that man! He killed Julien Advent!”
    I lowered Julien’s body carefully to the floor and got to my feet again, looking at Benway, frowning. “What are you talking about? You saw what happened!”
    “You murdered him!”
    “It wasn’t like that! You know it wasn’t like that!”
    People all around were pointing at me and shouting my name, crying out to everyone that I’d killed Julien Advent. Some of the security people were pointing guns at me.
    “Don’t let him get away!” shrieked Benway, tears streaming down her face. “Murderer! Murderer!”
    “It wasn’t like that!”
I cried.
    But there were too many of them, shouting my name. I turned and ran, breaking through the crowds, as they fell back before me. I ran out of the Hospice lobby and into the car-park, and the crowd spilled out after me, yelling my name. People everywhere turned to look. A great cry went up behind me, that I’d murdered the Great Victorian Adventurer. People on the street began to shout and point.
    I ran through the streets of the Nightside, with an angry mob behind me, my name a curse on their lips.

EIGHT
    Old Friends and Enemies
    And I went running, with horror at my heels.
    •  •  •
    Everywhere I went, people stopped to scream abuse at me. They threw stones and worse things. Some had guns, some had spells. I ran and dodged and ducked, trying desperately to work out where best to go, to hide from the whole damned Nightside. The word was out, to this side and that and sometimes even ahead of me. I’d been on the run before, back in my younger days, for various reasons, good and bad, but never anything like this. Julien Advent was a much loved and admired figure in the Nightside, far more than I ever was. I’d always thought it more important to be feared; and now my reputation was catching up with me, big-time.
    I didn’t dare use my Portable Timeslip. Far too easy to track something that powerful. So I ran.
    Why the hell had Benway called me a murderer? She was right there, she saw what was happening, she had to know why I did it. Unless . . . the Sun King was messing with her head. Making her see what he wanted her to see. I grinned savagely as I ran, a humourless snarl that had people falling back before me and hurrying to get out of my way. Things were finally starting to make sense. The Sun King was responsible for everything that was happening to me now, to keep me occupied, too busy trying to stay alive to stop him doing what he planned. That was why everyone was so ready to abuse and attack and pursue me, when normally most of them would have kept their heads down and concentrated on their own business. I laughed briefly as I ran, the sound like the bark of some dangerous animal, and people hid in doorways or hurried down side streets, rather than confront me.
    I spent a lot of my early years running and hiding from people who wanted to kill me, from all the usual villains and scumbags, and from the Harrowing. Those faceless homunculi sent back through Time by my Enemies in the Future, to punish me for something I hadn’t even done yet. What doesn’t kill you makes you very light on your feet and very hard to find; and as I raced through the Nightside, old skills and knowledge swiftly came back to me. I raced through the busy streets, taking this turn and that, charging through the front door of a big store, slipping through