It took Valkyrie a few moments to reply; she was too busy staring. At Craven, at the gun in Solomon's hand, at the way Solomon didn't take the chance to shoot Craven.
She couldn't deny being relieved. Not that she liked Craven or anything, but she'd never been totally comfortable with death, or with the need for it. She and Skulduggery arrested the criminals they pursued - they didn't kill them. Of course, that was back when they were actual Sanctuary agents, carried handcuffs on their person, and arresting someone was a viable option because there was a backup of Cleavers only a phone call away.
They didn't have any of that here. Valkyrie was genuinely surprised when Solomon lowered the gun. Surprised, but on a lower level, grateful.
She took advantage of the fact that Craven seemed just as surprised, holding him back against the wall with the air as hard as she could, dissipating the gathering shadows. Skulduggery and Ghastly could have done this with no effort, but there was a reason Valkyrie had needed Necromancy over the past year; she just wasn't strong enough yet. Luckily, Craven was injured enough to be too weak to resist.
It occurred to Valkyrie that right now, at this moment, she was the only one in the room who could use her magic. Solomon and Craven were both centuries older than her, physically superior, with mounds of experience she couldn't hope to match. And yet, right at that moment, Solomon was relying on her. Blood was soaking through Craven's cloak at the shoulder, his shadow magic pulsing just out of his reach. He was at her mercy.
It felt good.
"Where's your phone?" she asked.
Craven glared at her and said nothing. Valkyrie summoned another flame. She may not have wanted Craven dead, but she didn't really mind adding to his pain if she needed to.
The Necromancer took a moment. "Pocket," he finally growled through gritted teeth.
"Take it out." Valkyrie wasn't going to dip into the man's pocket - wasn't going to get anywhere near him, if she could help it. He was still a fully-grown man, and he could still have any number of tricks up his sleeve. She made the flame in her hand grow brighter as a warning against any funny business.
Craven had grown dangerously pale by the time the phone was in his hand. Valkyrie extinguished the fire and gestured, using the air to pull the phone towards her. She caught it, pocketed it, and then - with one last glare of her own at Craven - she supported Solomon out of the apartment.
no subject
She couldn't deny being relieved. Not that she liked Craven or anything, but she'd never been totally comfortable with death, or with the need for it. She and Skulduggery arrested the criminals they pursued - they didn't kill them. Of course, that was back when they were actual Sanctuary agents, carried handcuffs on their person, and arresting someone was a viable option because there was a backup of Cleavers only a phone call away.
They didn't have any of that here. Valkyrie was genuinely surprised when Solomon lowered the gun. Surprised, but on a lower level, grateful.
She took advantage of the fact that Craven seemed just as surprised, holding him back against the wall with the air as hard as she could, dissipating the gathering shadows. Skulduggery and Ghastly could have done this with no effort, but there was a reason Valkyrie had needed Necromancy over the past year; she just wasn't strong enough yet. Luckily, Craven was injured enough to be too weak to resist.
It occurred to Valkyrie that right now, at this moment, she was the only one in the room who could use her magic. Solomon and Craven were both centuries older than her, physically superior, with mounds of experience she couldn't hope to match. And yet, right at that moment, Solomon was relying on her. Blood was soaking through Craven's cloak at the shoulder, his shadow magic pulsing just out of his reach. He was at her mercy.
It felt good.
"Where's your phone?" she asked.
Craven glared at her and said nothing. Valkyrie summoned another flame. She may not have wanted Craven dead, but she didn't really mind adding to his pain if she needed to.
The Necromancer took a moment. "Pocket," he finally growled through gritted teeth.
"Take it out." Valkyrie wasn't going to dip into the man's pocket - wasn't going to get anywhere near him, if she could help it. He was still a fully-grown man, and he could still have any number of tricks up his sleeve. She made the flame in her hand grow brighter as a warning against any funny business.
Craven had grown dangerously pale by the time the phone was in his hand. Valkyrie extinguished the fire and gestured, using the air to pull the phone towards her. She caught it, pocketed it, and then - with one last glare of her own at Craven - she supported Solomon out of the apartment.