Death Bringer by Derek Landy

was. She didn’t know his first name and she didn’t care. She’d been here only once before, and by the time she left she had blood on her hands and a gun to dispose of.
    â€œCuriosity,” she said, and Prave’s bulbous eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet. “That’s what brought me here. Who, I wondered, would be audacious enough to summon me to a squalid little house of worthless worship such as this? Surely, I told myself, it can’t be this man Prave, this snivelling little toad-person with a penchant for bad suits and terrible shirts.”
    â€œWhat… what’s wrong with my shirt?” he burbled in a Yorkshire accent, his voice a nasal whine that triggered a primal urge within China’s psyche to hit something.
    â€œIt’s orange,” she told him. “It can’t be him, I thought. The man has no backbone to brag about, no spine to speak of. Who, then? Who is pulling the strings of the weasel-faced toad-person? So it is curiosity that brings me here, Mr Prave. Unveil your hidden master or risk me growing bored. I do terrible things when I grow bored.”
    Prave stared at her with those round, wet eyes of his, and China heard slow, measured footsteps in the other room – high heels on wood. China knew who it was instantly.
    Eliza Scorn walked through, dressed in black trousers and a jacket. She had left her long red hair to fall round her face, framing those cheekbones, those lips. Many men had fallen in love with Eliza Scorn, and then instantly forgotten her when China walked into the room. That was only the start of the animosity between them.
    â€œChina,” Scorn said, smiling.
    â€œEliza. What a surprise.”
    â€œPlease. I bet you’ve known I was back for months, haven’t you?”
    â€œI may have heard talk.”
    â€œAnd you didn’t try to get in touch? We could have met up, talked about the old days, traded gossip. Who’s alive, who’s dead, who’s about to die, that kind of thing.”
    â€œMy apologies, Eliza. I’ve been very busy.”
    â€œOf course, of course, with the library. I must call round, see how it looks. How have you been? You’re still as beautiful as ever.”
    â€œAs are you, my dear. I love your shoes.”
    â€œAren’t they delightful? I saw them and just had to have them. Their previous owner wasn’t too keen to let them go, but I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
    â€œIs that her blood on the left one?”
    â€œAnd no amount of scrubbing will get it out, either. I hear you are still a treacherous heathen, then? Your back is still turned to the Dark Gods?”
    â€œBoth firmly and resolutely. I met some of them, a few years ago. Not very nice, to heathen and disciple alike.”
    Scorn shrugged. “If the Faceless Ones deemed those disciples to be unworthy, so be it. We’ll just have to make sure that the rest of us are worthy of their love the next time they return.”
    â€œThe next time? Oh, my dear Eliza, you’re not going to carry on with this, are you? The Faceless Ones had their chance. They returned, and they were sent away again. It’s time to move on. Time to take up another hobby, like crocheting, or serial-killing.”
    â€œNonsense. Their return, however brief, was a signal that it can be done. We just need better organisation.”
    â€œAnd you are going to provide that?”
    â€œNaturally. The Church of the Faceless is going to have to expand, of course. We can’t be seen to be congregating in run-down old chapels like this. We need to appeal to a higher level of patron. Which is where you come in.”
    â€œNow this should be fascinating.”
    â€œWe need your resources to get us started. Not just money, although we’ll be taking that too, but your contacts. The people you know, China. They are what we want. They can get us what we need. It’s going to be glorious,