Skulduggery Pleasant Fan-fiction- Love Amongst The Cain (Sequel to The Cradle Of Magic)

The Fall of Men.

A/N Contains suicide references.
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They had said he was gone and that he had perished to the dark waters of the Thames.
It was caliginous and gloomy night, the fog thick over London in a bleak haze. He wore a sinister coat of morose shades, meeting his ankles as he glided, rather gracefully, across the harsh concrete of the desolate bridge. His already shallow breath was forced yet thick in the cold air as the dark water beneath him shimmered in the intense moonshine. His stance was heavy, steady and weighed down down by the dense metal to the nether of his pockets. He was dressed thickly despite this, his dark clothes matted and dense.
He was intent he would die that night, a cold november evening.
His foot trembled as he raised it to the barrier of the bridge, the edge thin, he pushed upon the supporting beam, wrapping his right arm to another beam as his sight became blurred, dizzy and the world rocked like the tempestuous water below. He closed his eyes hesitantly, his beating and frantic heart throbbing in his oesophagus at a swift pace as it tightened as he swallowed. His free and shaking hand brushed the lump of the weight in his pocket; reassurance that his pain would end quickly.
His body rocked in the rhythm of the breeze as his body stiffened, ready to fall. He shook, using the momentum to push his gauche loafer across the sharp corner and into space, the salted and soot filled thick in his breath. Hot tears furled progressively down his cheeks, his heart stopped and brought a lulling, sickly sensation to his mouth, running up his throat with the hot and flushed feeling of utter, intrepid terror. He choked, rasping on the acidity of the tears, and sobbed through gasps. A shudder ran up his spine...
And the cold grabbed him.
Her hand was icy, harsh in intention but soft and delicate to the touch. His shadowed, dark eyes flickered rapidly to the silver iris of the girl, her skin a lightly toasted gold and her figure racking a midnight-black training suit. She tucked a stray curl of violet hair behind her ear and looked to the man, her facade showing no compassion or emotion towards him.
She surveyed the situation, the prominent lump in his bottom right pocket catching her eye. He wouldn't drown alone with that, but of course he knew that. It was only to make sure. And for afterwards of course.
"He said you'd be here. The Hitman." Her voice was soft against the angry wind on the bridge, barely audible and a mere hum to the hostile waters below, "He's dead, you know. And I suppose you were planning to join him."
His pale face turned a lighter shade of alabaster, the thrum of his broken vocals caught in his throat. He looked to the dark waters beneath him and felt a sense of calm wash over him, he was still and he was a rock in the sea. However, Sanguine was dead. And that had meant another ally cast to Hell.
He was alone, solitary. How his kind was meant to be.
Devonair paced the perimeter to where he stood, her hand lightly grazing across the
frigid steel handrail that rocked loosely with the body of the bridge, she cast her eyes to the dawn on the horizon; a cantaloupe hue spreading like a dye in the reflections of the sky.
"It was a shame. I quite liked the man. Although, I think his heart belonged to another..." Her gaze wavered to the man on the edge, his head towards the breaking morning as she turned her hips to face him. "You want a reason? I reason to live? I'll give you one." Her voice was soft, menacing like her father's had been, malicious with a brimming sense of quizzical yet ambitious tone.
The vampire's head tilted to the girl's, a half-smile breaking and twitching rapidly across her lips.
"There's a certain girl I want dead. You might know of her. Three of them caused quite a stir around a decade ago. I'm intrigued. There's one, though, one I'm particularly interested in. It's her traits you see, her blood ties. I'd like to talk to her, test her. See if she's anything like her family name entails. You know of her, and oh do you hate her. Oh, will you want this, Dusk."
His gaze faltered, a clearance in his throat as the girl continued,
"I would have brought my partner... But, alas, he has emotional attachments to the girl. Her being his sister."
Dusk tilted his head penultimately towards the girl, his eyes darting in an animal-like fashion.
"Her name?"
The girl smirked, "Her name is Valiance Nightshade."