Ghastly noticed Skulduggery stiffening at the idea that his mind was no longer the safe harbour it once was. It was a new idea for the tailor, too. You got used to Skulduggery's mind being a locked vault of secrets. It was strange to think of someone being able to access them to any degree. Angels were different; angels were close to infallible. Descry was Descry, and he was 'reading' the mind of someone who used to be Lord Vile.

And he hadn't stopped smiling once all night.

Ghastly hadn't needed any more proof that Skulduggery was worth saving, but it was nice to have the reminder. It would probably help Skulduggery too, if the skeleton let himself think that far. Which, to be honest, he probably wouldn't.

"Winding himself up?" Ghastly chuckled. "Multiply that by a few beers. I don't think I helped at all."

"She sprung it on me," Skulduggery murmured. "I was trying to coordinate a battle effort and she sprung it on me. On purpose. How was I supposed to focus on drinking?"

"That's the point, Skulduggery. You don't. You're supposed to numb yourself to whatever's winding you up."

"I was supposed to numb myself to my unborn child? What if something had gone wrong and I was too drunk to help?"

"Something like...?"

"Liliya could have gone into premature labour."

"Premature by seven months?"

"I don't like your tone, Bespoke. In fact, now that I think about it, tonight isn't a good night for drinking either. What if Lucifer arrives in the morning, and the only person able to think objectively about it is a blind ex-Necromancer?"

That was a good point. But Ghastly was pretty sure he had a solution for that too. "I'm assuming that if angels can sanctify booze, they can sober everyone up as well. Is that true, Gabe?"

Gabe hadn't yet moved from Skulduggery's shoulder. It made an adorable picture.