Skulduggery's own interest in the party hadn't waned until the moment the doors had opened and he'd seen the seat set up for their host. Tamping down on the dread had been easy, especially seeing Darcy bitterly fuming across the table from him, and easier still had been putting on a neutral, uninterested poker face. But Friday's nervous posture, watching her perform the part of a terrified servant, even while knowing it was an act, was enough to put him on edge.

He knows what's likely to happen, even as he hopes for something more mundane -- and as the blood sprays across the table, he sees Darcy throwing herself to her feet. He's moving before he realizes he can, body numb from the fading magic, and he bodily throws himself across the table at her, tackling her with a surprising amount of force.

"Don't," he bellows, loud enough for anybody around him to hear, "That's just what he wants!"