Tanith's question had an equally sobering effect on Skulduggery. He'd been killed once before, they all knew that. As far as painful deaths went, that one pretty much killed the scale. Compared to Serpine's red right hand and the agonizing death it delivered, Skulduggery's death at Gabe's hand in the Coliseum was almost peaceful.

He still wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. To be properly dead? To be brainwashed and sent back as a visitor? All he remembered was the longest time of darkness he'd ever experienced, during which he was only somewhat aware of himself, and then the cold starkness of the morgue. Gabriel might have blamed himself for what happened, but Skulduggery had asked for it, almost begged for it; and he would never forget the look of joy on the Archangel's face when Skulduggery turned up the next day, fine and none the worse for wear.

That was before he knew about the Archangel part, of course. Things might have gone a little differently if he knew he was asking an Archangel to kill.

"You're alive," Skulduggery corrected Gabriel, remaining just as elusive about the truth while they were around the others. "I'm technically dead." He really should come up with a term for that. 'Unlife' sounded too much like a zombie. "The most I can hope for is a quiet existence, and I don't even get that."