Page 41 of Thief of Night
“You invited me over,” Charlie said, pushing past him into his house. He’d evidently been sitting on his couch, listening to music. A cup of thick Cuban coffee sat in front of him on the coffee table.
“I suppose I did. Can I offer you something?” Balthazar asked.
“I’ll have what you’re having,” she said, nodding toward his cup.
“You should,” he told her, walking into the kitchen.
She glanced around the room, her gaze snagging on her shadow, so clearly not in the shape of her own body. She hadn’t even seen Red turn back; he’d just melted away between one moment and the next.
It felt like being alone, but she had to remember: she was never alone.
With a sigh, she headed into Balthazar’s kitchen. He was just finishing adding the condensed milk to her coffee. Years ago, she’d done jobs that he arranged, stealing books detailing ancient gloamist techniques so he could sell them on to the highest bidder. Now, she wasn’t sure how to characterize their relationship. Not quite friends, but they knew too much about one another to be only acquaintances.
“So,” he said, pushing the cup toward her. “You want to be a real gloamist?”
She hesitated, then tried to find the words to express something that both was the truth and omitted the worst of her fears. “I want to know what being a real gloamist means for someone with a shadow that was never part of me. I’ve always heard there was the difficult but right way—to use your shadow like an extension of yourself—and the bad, but easy way—to give it the means to be independent. But if that’s true, I’m bad from the jump. And I don’t think thatcanbe true, because… because I don’t think that Re—” She stopped herself in time. “I don’t think that Remy was bad because he helped Vince exist.”
Balthazar regarded her for a long moment. “Huh.”
Charlie sipped her coffee and appreciated the way it made her feel as though she could punch a hole straight through a wall.
“Let’s go sit down and talk about what you do and don’t know.” He led the way. “You know, like civilized people.”
She settled herself back on his couch.
“You have no idea what he’s capable of, do you?” he asked.
The fact that she wasn’t even sure what he was asking, showed her just how right he was. She glanced at her shadow again. “I guess not.”
“He can possess people.”
“Like Mr. Punch,” Charlie said, trying not to seem overly unnerved. She didn’t think that meant Red could possessher.
Balthazar leaned back with his coffee, lured by the prospect of shit-talking. “I see you met the new head of the puppeteers.”
“Well not exactly,” she said. “I met a lot of people speaking with his voice. It was immensely creepy.”
“Not surprising. Bellamy says he thinks he met Mr. Punch once, but it was years ago and he went by another name.”
Charlie remembered Red telling her that he’d seen Bellamy and Balthazar together outside of Rapture.
“Is Malik dead?” Charlie wasn’t sure what it took to take possession of a Cabal. Probably less than it had when there had been four of them. Vicereine and Bellamy should have pushed someone into the role of carapace leader sooner.
Balthazar gave a nonchalant wave of his head. “I don’tthinkso. The rumor was that he made it out of town. How far out of town is another question.”
“Rooster Argent at all mixed up in this?” Charlie asked, leaning back herself. She hoped Balthazar might have something interesting to say about him.
Balthazar gave her a private smile. “Rooster is the face of gloamists and was a good friend of Malik. Mr. Punch’s absolute opposite. They must hate one another. I hear Rooster is supposed to be enlightening Silicon Valley types at a spa upstate next week.”
Ice picks for the rich,Charlie recalled from the chat.
Balthazar snapped his fingers. “I have an idea. Let’s get Vince to give you a demonstration.”
Charlie wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.
“Vince,” Balthazar said, louder than he needed to, as though he was calling someone in another room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Red was suddenly standing to one side of her.
