Page 114 of Thief of Night
“No bloodletters!” the NeverMan shouted, making it feel as though a gust of air knocked her back. “No tasting your sweet blood. Not yet. Not yet. But not never. He didn’t unpromise never.”
“Okay,” Charlie whispered, voice shaking. “Okay.”
There was a creak of floorboards in the hall and the shadows scattered, like mice hiding when a cat came prowling. Mark stepped into the room. Hollow-eyed, his dark hair greasy and hanging in his face, he smiled at the sight of Charlie.
“It’s good to have you bound and on my floor,” he said.
She remembered him glaring at her from the stand during his trial and how dry her throat had felt. That was nothing compared to how it felt now.But as much as he terrified her, he also made her furious. Even zip-tied and on the ground, she couldn’t help imagining revenge.
“I fucked up things with you,” she said, letting her voice break a little.
His smile widened. “You sure did.”
“I thought I was clever,” Charlie said, trying to project sincerity, though it left a bitter taste in her mouth. “You screwed me over, so I thought I would screw you over right back. I never thought about what they might do to you.”
“It’s a little late for an apology,” he said.
It was important she didn’t tip her hand. If she wasn’t at least a little prickly, he wouldn’t believe anything she said. “Since I got shot, I’m not apologizing.”
He sat down in a chair, brushing aside newspapers. “Wait until you see what I am going to do to you now. You’re the reason I’m this way, you know? I’d like to rip you apart.”
“What’s stopping you?” Charlie snapped, because she was so angry and felt so helpless. Because in the face of danger she made bad choices.
His smile was pure spite. “That I can only do it once.”
She was in so much trouble. If she intended to trick him—even if at the moment, she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d do that—she had to swallow her rage. He’d want Charlie to acknowledge his cleverness, his superiority.
Mark had never seen her as a real con artist, like him. She was a woman and if a woman made a target want them, even love them, that’s what women did, right? It didn’t make her slick the way it did when a beautiful, rogue-hearted man came to town and stole hearts.
Women were supposed to be chameleons, formless and shapeless until the world told them their shape, so it didn’t impress him when she slipped into a role. Maybe he thought all women were con artists.
“How did you… become what you are now?” she asked, focusing on appearing riveted by his answer.
“Vicereine wasn’t the only one who could give me a quickened shadow,” he told her. “I went to someone else.”
“Salt.” Her voice cracked with surprise. That was what Mr. Punch had said about the harvester, that he’d been in some kind of indentured servitude to Lionel Salt.
He appeared delighted to have shocked her. “Didn’t think I had it in me, did you?”
“You didn’t buy that. Salt didn’t need your money.”
“He had a job for me. There were a couple of bodies he wanted me totake downtown and set on fire without anyone knowing. Make it look like a murder-suicide.”
Charlie stared at Mark, feeling cold all over. “That was his grandson. You set his grandson’s body on fire.”
He shrugged, looking annoyed at her judgment. “Nothing I did that night compares to what I’ve done since.”
She wanted to hit him. “You were never locked up, were you?”
“I was, but some Cabal guys got me out a few days later. Left some sucker serving my time, believing he was me.” He grinned, clearly pleased to brag. “I guess that Salt told people I could get things done. Rooster said that if I would work for him, he’d keep me out of prison.”
“Lucky you,” she said.
The amusement left his face. “Working for Rooster and Archie was worse than being in a cell. They made me their harvester. Do you know what that is?”
“You stole shadows,” Charlie said.
It was his turn to be surprised. “Well, yeah. And they wanted me to do it forever. Any time I pushed back, they said they could get me sent back to prison. And that if I did, there’d be people inside to make sure I never got out.”
