Page 72 of Thief of Night
He studied the shadow creature as it attempted to fight its way free. “Lively,” he said.
“All things considered, it’s fairly friendly,” Charlie told him. “More curious than murderous.”
“Equal parts, at least,” put in Red.
“So,” Charlie said. “Would you like me to sew it on you?”
A man’s voice sounded from the hall. “Balthazar, I thought you were—”
A familiar voice.
“Is thatBellamy?” Charlie said, dropping her voice to a whisper. She remembered Red saying they met up behind Rapture. Apparently, they met up other places as well.
“You better go,” Balthazar said, lowering his voice too. “I can take it from here.”
“What if he finds out?” Charlie demanded, partially because this was an important question and partially because she wanted to know if Bellamy had been selling Blights and Balthazar knew it.
“Then I will lie about where it came from,” Balthazar promised, herding her and Red toward the door.
“One more thing,” Charlie said. “Remember when you said Rooster Argent was scheduled to talk at some wellness retreat upstate? Do you remember the place it’s being held?”
“Solaluna. Now, goodbye.” He shut the door in her face.
Charlie turned to meet Red’s gaze.
Solaluna, like the matchbook they found next to the stubbed-out cigarettes in Hatfield. Solaluna, where Rooster was supposed to quicken the shadows of the wealthy and powerful. Solaluna, which might be at the center of everything.
23Moving Day
Charlie spent her night frantically packing in preparation for moving out of their rental house the following day. She threw clothes in garbage bags and dumped her toiletries on top. By the time Red came into her room late that night, she had a line of them against the wall as though she was ready to take her whole life to the dump.
She looked up at him. His eyes were hot and hungry, but he didn’t move toward her. Didn’t do anything but look.
“You should, um…” Charlie said. “I should give you some blood.”
He took a step toward her. “Should you?” he asked, voice deep.
She turned away from him and flopped down on the mattress. “Throw me something sharp,” she said. “Or bite me. Whatever you’re into.”
“There isn’t much you failed to pack up,” he said, looking through her drawers.
She grinned. “I guess that leaves only one option. You’re going to have to play vampire.”
He sat on the edge of the mattress, a strange light in his eyes. He looked hungry. “Give me your hand.”
Charlie thought of the bites on the bodies and shuddered, suddenly less certain about what she was inviting him to do. But she reached over to him and felt the pressure of his thumb against her palm.
He brought her pointer finger to his mouth. Between his lips. His tongue slid over it and then she felt a sting, as though the tip of his tongue had a thorn attached to it. The barb of a scorpion’s tail. He drew her finger deeper into his mouth.
She shuddered again, this time for entirely different reasons. She felt the warmth of her cheeks and a sudden heat between her legs. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.
Then he kissed the very tip of her finger and returned her hand to her.
“You were right,” he said.
“Oh?” Her thoughts were a muddle of disappointment and shame.
“I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” He stood. “And I can’t have you.”
