Page 30 of Thief of Night
The Grace Covenant Church sat in a sleepy corner of a main road in Hatfield, Massachusetts, a town that looked straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Graceful old houses with red bows and tasteful wreaths on their doors sat beneath canopies of trees.
Charlie parked across the street from the church. At that time of night, no other car was on the road. Most of the lights inside the houses were already out. A few fake candles winked in windows and holiday lights twinkled from bushes.
Behind the church, an old graveyard stretched toward some woods. That would be the path she’d take out of there if she were the killer, even if she were a Blight.
A police car cruised down the street, slowing as it passed the van. When it didn’t stop, Charlie let out her breath. But two blocks away, it started to turn around.
“Time to go,” Charlie said, hoping the cop wasn’t running her plate. She pulled the van onto the road, heading out of town. The police car didn’t follow.
Her phone rang and she jumped, jerking the wheel so that the van swerved in the road.
She didn’t feel any better when she realized who was calling.
Vicereine. Oh right, because the head of the alterationists had wanted totalk to Charlie. And since it had turned out she wasn’t the one who dragged Charlie out of her house, Charlie had left her hanging.
Charlie positioned the phone against her shoulder, so that it would sit there while she drove. “Sorry, my phone was busted and—”
“A lawyer contacted me,” Vicereine said. “He wanted to make me aware that Remy Carver is about to become very wealthy and that I would be doing myself a favor to get out of his way. I informed that person that they must be mistaken, as Vincent is no more Remy Carver than Adeline Salt is her own reflection in the mirror.”
Red stiffened in the passenger seat. His eyes darkened, as though they were about to burn. Reaching over, he took the phone and hit the speaker button. “What else did the lawyer say?”
“He wanted to know if I was going to tell anyone else what I’d just told him.” Vicereine sounded surprised to hear Red’s voice.
“And are you?” Charlie asked, thinking of the journalist who’d called her.
“Not unless there’s a reason I should,” Vicereine said, annoyance in her voice. “But if I’m asked, you can hardly expect me to lie.”
Which was a warning, but also a reason to be grateful. Charlie hated being grateful.
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t make Adeline the Hierophant?” she asked. “Just imagine how many times her lawyer would have called you then.”
“If she thinks she can buy the Cabals,” Vicereine said, “we’ll bury her. You should let her know that. Remind her to whom you’re beholden.”
“She wants Vince,” Charlie corrected. “Not me.”
Vicereine snorted. “Him, she believes she already owns.”
“And you don’t?” Charlie asked.
Vicereine made an impatient sound. “If you didn’t want it to be this way, you shouldn’t have put a collar around your own neck and handed us the leash, Charlie Hall.”
Then she hung up.
“That could have gone worse,” Charlie said, but Red was looking out the window, lost in thought.
When they got back to the house, Charlie turned to him.
“You can sleep in the bed with me if you want,” she said, courting humiliation and determined to see it through. “I promise I won’t hit on you or anything like that.”
He studied her, his expression unreadable. “You’re very beautiful.”
She kept her face carefully neutral. “Maybe you don’t like beautiful.Everyone has a type.” Charlie flopped down on the bed and tried to kick off her boots. They were laced up, but not so tightly that she didn’t think it might eventually work.
Red caught her calf. Going down to one knee in front of Charlie, he undid her laces as though she were a child, then pulled off her boots, one and then the other. When he was done, she slid her feet away from him and under the covers, pretending not to still feel the warmth of his hands on her skin. Pretending not to be in any way affected.
Red lay down at the very edge of the mattress.
Still mostly dressed, Charlie closed her eyes and tried to ignore the nearness of his body, the softness of his mouth, and the hardness of his jaw. His lashes, bright as gold when the moonlight caught them.
