Would scotch help? Could Gabriel control the effects of alcohol in his system - if there even was a system? And if that was the case, why did he even need the alcohol in the first place?

Having such a constantly nimble and dexterous mind could be both a blessing and a curse.

Skulduggery followed Gabriel through the doorway and down the steps, passing a couple of sorcerers hurrying out who didn't give them a second glance. Skulduggery had to give up feeling the air further ahead for a potential trap - there was so much activity just in the front room of the Sanctuary that he'd never be able to feel the differences in the turbulent currents. At least this time, he was walking down torchlit stone tunnels with the comforting feel of his revolver under his jacket. That was more than he could have said for the past year.

The Sanctuary lobby was every bit as busy as the air had indicated. There really had been an attack, and a bad one at that. There were bodies being moved, torn and broken pieces of furniture being replaced, inventory being taken. Skulduggery watched the proceedings with a heavy heart and a brief sadness in his eyes; it was such a shame that something like this had to happen before Guild finally got over his own personal bias.