Thanks to everyone for all the support ; unfortunately I'm very busy, and only come on to this website to update the story.
Thanks for all the kind comment. :)
A man left work early.
Valkyrie couldn't remember his name. Steven or David or Richard. Something along those lines.
She slipped the picture out of her pocket, squinting through the drizzle, comparing back and forth. Steven or David or Richard walked quickly, head down, texting someone with one hand, carrying the umbrella with the other. It was him, and Valkyrie slipped the picture back into her jeans.
He got into his car, umbrella getting caught on the door.
Valkyrie started her motorcycle, the thrum of the engine sounding like a chest cold in the weather. Dirty puddle water splashed onto her jeans as she entered into traffic and followed behind the car.
Steven or David or Richard's car didn't speed or rush or forget to signal. He was a careful driver, all things considered. More careful than Valkyrie, hydroplaning, nearly losing control of her bike, water dripping down her helmet.
He pulled into a motel, and Valkyrie did a loop around the block, finding a spot to park.
She walked back, soaking wet, coat pulled close around her. She had left her camera in the seat of her motorcycle, but no one could tell the difference between her phone camera and the professional one, anyways.
She stepped in front of a car, waving a hand when the driver honked, and jogged into the motel carpark. There were four cars in the parking lot, and Richard or Steven or David's car was parked next to a cute buggy.
Valkyrie hurried in to the front office, teeth chattering.
The man stood next to a woman, arranging a room for a few hours with the clerk. Valkyrie wondered if she could take a picture without being noticed. The bell rang as someone else entered.
"Sure is a wet one out there, today."
Valkyrie's heart lurched.
Chris—she suddenly remembered—turned around, smiling tightly, before returning to paying for his room. The woman was a little more forgiving.
"Sure is," she said. Her tone was a little warmer with Valkyrie. "Looks like you got caught out, huh?"
Valkyrie forced a smile on her face. "Yeah. Didn't check the weather report."
"Well, miss, I have an umbrella you can borrow," Skulduggery said, sidling up. "I wouldn't want you catching a chill, would I?"
Chris touched the woman on her arm, and they left the office. Valkyrie hadn't even gotten the room number, which was the whole damn point.
Valkyrie glared at Skulduggery, but he didn't seem to notice, walking past her and to the clerk. "Good afternoon, young man. I'd like a room for, oh," he looked over his shoulder at Valkyrie, "say, two hours?"
Valkyrie blushed. She scowled harder.
Skulduggery nodded brightly. "What nice hourly rates this motel has," he said, handing the clerk his credit card.
The clerk rang Skulduggery up, handing him a key.
Valkyrie practically kicked the door open. She whirled on him. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.
Skulduggery pointed with his umbrella. "You ran in front of my car."
Valkyrie faltered—had she really not noticed the Bentley? "Regardless, I doubt you're here on business." Valkyrie licked her lip, looking around. "Have you been following me?"
Skulduggery shrugged. "I was curious as to what you were up to, nowadays, considering you refuse to pick up my calls after also refusing to work with me ever again. However, follow is a strong term. I honestly had lost you a while back, but then I nearly ran you over."
Valkyrie laughed, turning her back to him. "I can't believe this. I literally cannot believe this."
Skulduggery sounded much too happy. "You do look cold, and I did buy a room. Would you...?"
Valkyrie whipped around. Skulduggery offered her the key, and she grabbed it, stalking to the room and letting herself in.
The room was small and damp and reeked of cigarette smoke. Valkyrie pushed wet hair out of her eyes and sat on the desk—the only piece of furniture without cloth on it. Skulduggery flicked on the light and deactivated the façade.
"I always wondered what mortals thought needed investigating. A cheating husband, how mundane." He looked over at her. "Your talents are wasted working for mortals, I hope you know that."
Valkyrie glared at Skulduggery's shoes. "Yes, well, I don't pick the cases, the Sanctuary does, and no sorcerer would touch me with a fifty-foot pole."
"I would."
Valkyrie fought the smile threatening to creep across her face. "Skulduggery, I thought I told you I don't want to work with you."
Skulduggery nodded. "Ah, yes, I do believe that was our last conversation. Forgive me for having some questions, and wishing to discuss this matter further, but you really left me with no choice. I haven't worked with you in years, and I'm not about to let you go freelance."
Valkyrie didn't answer.
Skulduggery cleared his throat. "Right, well, if you could just explain to me why you don't want to be my partner any more, I'd be happy to leave you be to take pictures of your wayward husband a few rooms over."
Valkyrie frowned, and then looked up at him. "You asked China where I was, didn't you? That's why you're in London."
"You're deflecting."
"You're following me!"
Skulduggery raised his hands. "Perhaps this conversation got off on the wrong foot. I just want to know what you're thinking."
Valkyrie stood. "I'm thinking that you don't understand why I went to America in the first place. Which is—fine whatever, but I'm trying to work, and I really don't appreciate you interfering. So, if you'll excuse me..."
Skulduggery held up her phone. Valkyrie slapped her hands against her pockets.
"When you turned around," he explained, rather meekly.
"Oh my God."
"Valkyrie, I just want to know what I did wrong."
"Yeah, and you're being really annoying about it!" she yelled, forgetting she was supposed to be undercover.
Skulduggery's shoulders were slumped, and immediately Valkyrie wished she hadn't said that.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's perfectly alright. I was, perhaps, a bit desperate with this attempt. You're working, and you obviously don't want to talk to me, and I was being rude and invasive. I apologize." He held out her phone.
Valkyrie hesitated. She stepped forward and took her phone.
"I miss you," he said.
She looked up at him.
"I... I've tried to be understanding," he continued. "With America, and... when you didn't want to work with me. But I can't help it, I miss you. God, Valkyrie, I miss you." He was close, so close, but he didn't touch her.
"Skulduggery, I am working," she murmured, looking away.
"Yes." He adjusted the hat on his head. "I'll leave you to it, then."
He touched her elbow as he moved by her—a purely unconscious action, she knew, but it made her stomach role and twist. She blushed, staring at the ground until she heard the door shut behind her.
She let out a breath. Took another deep one; oxygen calms the heart, calms the body, parasympathetic. Skulduggery had taught her that on the phone.
...
Skulduggery handed her the tea, which Valkyrie accepted.
"God, thank you so much, they don't have this brand in America." Valkyrie took a long drink, feeling the warmth pool in her stomach. "You really don't have to fly here every time I say I need something."
"Nonsense," Skulduggery said, removing his hat and settling in his armchair. "I'm just happy to spend time with you."
This was the third time he had visited and said nothing about the books around the house. Books with long titles.