Page 82 of Thief of Night
“Where can I put it?” As Charlie took a slow spin, her eye caught on the thing she needed—right where Balthazar’s informant said it would be. The small black glass vial, stoppered in onyx, trapping the piece of Red the Cabals had taken.
If he needed more of himself to heal, then this could heal him. But it might also bring back his memories. She’d been counting on that when she planned this heist, but as she stood on the precipice, she felt a little sad at how different Red might become once he had them. Red, who was wounded and angry and hiding none of it. Red, who she’d seen only glimpses of when he was Vince.
“Over here,” said Sally, pointing to a shelf on the other side from where Charlie needed to be.
She put the box in the place that Sally indicated. Then, she headed for a book along the far wall, near the glass vial.
“What are you—” Sally started.
Charlie grabbed a volume right beside to the vial. “I think I stole this.”
Sally jerked it from her grip. “You did not. Bellamy acquired that himself.”
As the woman shoved it back onto the shelf, Charlie palmed the vial.
“Let’s go,” Sally snapped.
Charlie slid the vial up her sleeve as she turned her hands upward, showing off how she had nothing in them. Her heart thundered as she climbed the stairs. That whole fiasco had taken more than fifteen minutes. A piece of Red’s shadow was useless if she couldn’t reunite them. She made up her mind that if Bellamy was waiting in the scarlet-curtained room she’d find a way to get rid of him, no matter what it took.
But when Sally led her back, she was relieved to find Red alone with Milo. Better, Sally waved Milo into the hall, probably to complain about Charlie.
“Hold on,” she whispered to Red, leaning down. “You’re going to get better.”
Sliding the vial out from her sleeve, she pulled out the stopper. A cloud of shadow poured out, flowing toward Red, drawn to him as though like recognizes like.
Red gave a gasp, eyes flying open.
“What have we here?” said Bellamy, head of the masks, as he entered the room.
“He’s hurt,” Charlie said, trying to keep her voice even. She didn’t turn, shielding Red’s body as the shadow settled into him, palming vial and stopper. “I wasn’t sure where else to take him.”
Bellamy walked around Red, as though he were a particularly fascinating object. Charlie doubted he would have looked at a dying human like that, but only because he wouldn’t have found them interesting.
And she very much hoped that Red was no longer dying. “Can you help him?”
“Felix can do nice, neat shadow stitches,” Bellamy said. “That might help the tatters seal.”
“Get him.” As Charlie spoke, she slipped the vial into her pocket.
Bellamy pressed a finger to his mouth consideringly. “The Blight will still need more blood—more vigor.”
Charlie pushed up the cuff of her sleeve.
Bellamy shook his head. “He’s taken quite a bit from you. I am not sure you’re the one best suited to give him more. Especially since your tether has been cut.”
“That wasn’t his fault,” Charlie lied. “It happened during the fight.”
Bellamy shrugged. “You could leave him here. We’d take good care of him.”
“Absolutely not,” Charlie said.
“It’s not like you’re even a gloamist,” he reminded her. “No magic now. We can find a new Hierophant.”
“I’m not leaving Vince,” Charlie said. “Set another price.”
Bellamy raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have a lot of options. You came here for my help.”
Downstairs, Charlie heard a banging on the door of the watchtower. Fuckingfinally. Now the last part of her plan—getting out—was on.
