Book of Night(120)

Vince threw himself at the Hierophant. She saw the Blight’s nails sink into Vince’s side. And then Vince rolled them both toward the fire, where he was going to immolate the Heirophant even if it meant feeding himself to the flames.

Charlie only had time to lurch toward them, reaching out and grabbing his indistinct shape. She held on, the onyx forcing Vince solid in her hands, making him collapse on top of her as the Hierophant gave a furious scream. The flames leapt up, so high that they set the bottom of Salt’s painting on fire.

Malik and his assistants dropped a netting of jet beads moments later, catching Vince and Charlie inside.





33

THIEF OF NIGHT




No one would let Charlie talk to him.

Vicereine brought her to the dining room and two people from carapace held her there. Someone gave her a drink from Salt’s fancy liquor cabinet. It was probably the most expensive whiskey she’d ever drink, and she couldn’t taste it.

They would have taken her back to the library, except they’d found Salt’s body there, letter opener buried in his chest.

And so Charlie sat, angry, adrenaline still racing through her veins. She stared at the polished wood of the antique sideboard, at the ridiculously ornate silver epergne resting on top, and the hideous oil painting of a bowl of severed heads. Her eye went to the heavy silk drapes with tasseled gimp trim, down to a hand-knotted silk rug that had to be at least a hundred years old. Someone had tracked ash onto it.

The world was going to be better without Lionel Salt in it.

She looked down at her red suit, the leg of which had been smeared with soot. Possibly she was the one who’d tracked ash onto the rug.

“You were right,” Vicereine told her, pouring a highball glass of scotch for herself. “About Salt. About all of it, I suppose. I am sure you wanted someone to say that, so let me start there.”

“Great,” Charlie said, starting to stand. “So let me talk to Vince.” A gloom stepped toward her, expression grim, and she sat back down with a sigh.

An unhappy smile came to Vicereine’s lips. “We must contemplate our options when it comes to your Blight. We’ve never seen one that could pass for human.”

“Vince almost destroyed himself saving you,” she reminded Vicereine.

“We know, truly. But you must accept that we’re going to have to speak with him and come to a decision about how to proceed.” Vicereine gave a heavy sigh. “He’s too dangerous to ignore, and who knows how many more like him are out there. Go home, Charlie Hall.”

“I’m not leaving unless you let me talk to him,” Charlie insisted.

Eventually Bellamy and Malik came into the room, appearing exhausted. Bellamy had a slash in his coat that she thought must have come from shadow claws.

“I can show you where Salt’s secret dungeon is,” Charlie offered, then raised an eyebrow. “I can actually open his safe.”

“Although your offer is appreciated, we can handle it from here,” said Malik. “You have my word. We won’t hurt Red. We owe you both a debt.”

Charlie raised her eyebrows, not feeling particularly trusting. “Wow. Your word. That and a dollar won’t even buy me a decent cup of coffee.”

Malik scowled at her.

“He’s too fascinating for me to let anyone touch a hair on his head,” Bellamy said, which she actually believed. “You can come see him at my place in three days’ time. How about that?”

She glanced between the others, expecting to see some conflict about where he was going to be held, but there was none. Either they’d decided this before, or no one else wanted him.

“Okay,” Charlie finally said, having run out of other options. “Fine. Three days.”

On her way out of Salt’s mansion, she pocketed an antique inkpot and shoved a pair of solid silver candlesticks up her sleeve.



* * *



Posey was waiting for her in the station wagon, dozing in the driver’s seat. When Charlie got in, she jumped up in alarm. Then, seeing it was only her sister, she yawned.

“Where’s Vince?” Posey asked, squinting at the black, star-spattered sky as though she could tell time by it. “How long were you in there?”

Charlie shook her head. “Drive. I’ll explain. We have one stop before we go home. Do you remember Tina?”

After their detour, Posey took them back to their rental house, even though it was still taped off as a crime scene. Charlie crawled through the window to her bedroom, showered in her own bathroom, and slept on her own mattress. Her sister slept beside her, Charlie’s shadow curled around them both.

When she woke, the scent of bleach in her nose, she realized the sheets still smelled like Vince.

She held her hands up in the air. Long fingers. Black nail polish, already chipped. Clever hands, capable of picking a lock and opening a safe.

She thought of reaching out for a shadow, grabbing Vince. If she hadn’t guessed what he was going to do, if she hadn’t gotten there in time, the momentum would have taken him into the fire.

There wouldn’t even have been a body.

The thought made her feel hollowed out as she went through the motions of taking a shower. Part of her felt trapped in that upside-down world, where he was already gone. Her gaze fell on the wall tiles, staring at the nothing that was where her shadow ought to be.