And that, Skulduggery had to admit, was one of the only things he did miss about having a human body at Landel's. Once he'd managed to figure out swallowing - thanks to Gabe's help - and learned to savor the taste of the variety of foods available to the prisoners, he'd quickly remembered what he liked and disliked from before he died. And how much he really missed them. Tea, Skulduggery had decided, was something he'd always liked, though he hadn't tried it with milk or sugar before.

So he shrugged and stepped up to the table. "In that case, why not?"

"There's no need to put yourself out on my account," Finbar was murmuring quietly to himself as he bustled around the kitchen, producing three mugs, a bowl of sugar, and enough milk for at least one of them. He chuckled. "Plenty of folks who wouldn't mind hearing that, I think. There's a church up the street with a priest who keeps trying to get me to convert and confess my sin. I told him what, the sin of owning a tattoo parlour? Or the sin of being a psychic? Shoulda seen the look on his face. He came by a lot more after that. Makes it sound like we all owe everything we have to God. Well, no offense, but God wasn't here when I built this business from the ground up." Finbar hesitated while the kettle started whistling. "Hey, thanks, Skul-man. But no, I'm sure God has more important things to worry about than - "

Finbar turned back around and nearly dropped the kettle. He stared openly at Skulduggery's new/old face, which was smiling at him, and it took Finbar a moment to smile back. "Nice. You know, we have an opening for another tattooist, Gabe. If you don't get too busy with answering prayers, you can always come work here."