Page 31 of Thief of Night
Her bra was still on. Her onyx necklace dug into her chest. She was never going to be able to sleep like this.
Her thoughts circled between her memory of Mark, standing in Rapture with that familiar false smile. The bullet hitting her windshield. Red speaking in her head:I’ll kill him. If you want.Around, again and again.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow near the window move. It slid across the floor in the way no shadow should.
Charlie shut her eyes automatically, playing possum. Stupid, but she’d done it, so she might as well take a moment to think. The weapon that had been most consistently successful against Blights was fire and her lighter was in her purse. If she moved fast, she might be able to get to it, but that was a very small flame.
“Red.” A strange, scraping voice came from the shadow—a woman’s voice, sounding like metal against metal. Charlie’s breath caught. A Blight that could reason, that couldtalk,was very, very dangerous.
Maybe even as dangerous as him.
“You.” Red’s voice was low. Charlie felt the mattress move as he rose.
Red knew this thing?Fuckityfuckingfuck.
“Come with me,” the shadow rasped.
There was a long silence. Charlie opened her eyes just in time to see both shadows going out through the window. A moment later, she sat up, her hand pressing over her speeding heart as though she could slow it with pressure. At least Posey wasn’t home. Her sister had been spending more and more nights out, creeping home near dawn. Though it had worried Charlie that there were secrets between them, now she was grateful.
Sliding out of bed, she shoved her feet back into her boots. She had to know what was happening. Throwing on her clawed-up coat, she went outthe front door as quietly as she could and into the night. If she concentrated, she was able to follow a pulling sensation from somewhere in the center of her body, drawing her toward him. She could feel the distance, and if she looked down, in the moonlight, she could just make out the skein of shadow that bound them, thin as a cobweb.
Cold air bit her cheeks and gusts blew her hair around her face, but she could hear voices, not far from where she stood. She moved closer, crouching beneath a low bush to remain hidden. Her legs were already starting to feel numb with cold.
“Thought I died?” the shadow woman asked. “Or tried never to think about me at all? Blot out the old days?”
“What do you want?” His tone was as blunt as his words.
“I don’t have much time,” she said in that strange voice. “Just listen.”
“I suppose I owe you that, at least,” he said.
“You owe me more,” said the shadow woman. “Much more.”
“Now you’re the one wasting time,” he reminded her.
“There is a man I need you to kill.” Her voice combined eerily with the sound of the wind.
“I have a keeper,” Red said.
“Did they give you to her the way they gave me to him?” the voice asked. “Did you think that being their loyal monster meant they would spare you?”
“Be careful,” Red said. “You came tome, Rose.”
“You didn’t save me before. Save me now. Like you said, you owe me.”
Rose. There was only one person Charlie had ever heard of by that name, Rose Allaband. The woman Remy had been accused of killing. The one whose body had been found in the burnt-out husk of a car in Springfield.
No one had ever asked what happened to her shadow.
“I could help you too,” the shadow woman said.
He gave a huff of laughter, but not the kind with amusement in it. “I am beyond helping.”
“I’ll murder her for you if you want,” the shadow said, gesturing toward the house. Charlie. She was talking about murdering Charlie.
“Now?” he asked, as though maybe the offer was a welcome one.
“In payment for you helping me,” she replied.
