“Get out of my head, Mr. Salt,” she said in her normal voice.

  Laughter bubbled up around them. Charlie allowed herself to step away from the door to the garden, the one whose proximity to the darkness had hidden what was changed in her, what she was lacking.

  The shadowless can’t be controlled. There’s a door shut inside of them.

  There would have been no way for Charlie to come here and confront Salt if it was possible for him to puppet her. It had been surprisingly hard to give up her shadow, but she’d sewn it to Posey’s feet and trusted her sister to care for it. Charlie wasn’t destined to be a gloamist. She was destined for this.

  “Lionel,” said Vicereine. “That was naughty of you.”

  “I wanted to force her to confess the truth,” Salt said, a hectic flush on his cheeks. He managed to sound calm, however, as though this was all just a small and embarrassing disagreement. “I shouldn’t have done that, but she has herself been deceived.”

  “Do you know something about the death of a Cabal member?” Malik asked Lionel. “Because that would have been a hell of a thing to keep to yourself, no matter what the truth is about your involvement.”

  “I did not think I would have to reveal this, certainly not here,” Salt said, looking around, annoyed. “But you see, I have been working with the Hierophant to catch the murderer of Knight Singh. And we have succeeded.”

  “Oh, did he catch himself, then?” Charlie asked. “Because he’s the one who killed Knight, on your orders.”

  “Be quiet!” the Hierophant ground out.

  Salt turned toward Charlie with a sneer. “The Hierophant has served the Cabal faithfully,” Salt said. “Who are you to question his loyalty, thief?”

  “Stephen, what’s this about?” Bellamy asked, peering at the Hierophant. The name of the human, the one who Charlie was almost sure wasn’t in control of the body anymore. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, but that he had the wan, sickly appearance of someone whose energy was being consumed.

  “She’s a liar,” said the Hierophant.

  Salt looked at Charlie and shook his head sadly. “Oh dear, yes, our boy tricked you, didn’t he? The deceiver deceived. You’re not the first.” He turned back to the others, his confidence that he could get away with this growing. “Now, perhaps we can do this part in private? I have something to show you. Something I would prefer we kept between the four of us.”

  Vicereine and Malik shared a glance. Malik nodded to Bellamy.

  “Yes, I think so,” Vicereine said, with a look at Charlie. “I believe you said your name was…”

  “Charlie,” she said. “Charlie Hall.”

  “Ms. Hall, I promise you that we’ll hear your accusations and pass judgment.”

  Malik nodded. Bellamy regarded her with interest. “We can be fair.”

  Charlie was certain they could, but less certain they would.

  “Let us adjourn to the library,” Salt said. “And I will tell you everything.” He signaled to a young man in a suit and tie. “Get him for me. Bring him in the cuffs.”

  The other gloamists watched them leave, a few of them stopping one or the other Cabal members to ask them a question, or make some comment. A few laughed. The Hierophant walked behind them, his gaze returning over and over to the book in Charlie’s hands.

  “You,” Salt said to her, under his breath. “Are nothing more than a piece of gristle between my teeth.”

  She tried to ignore him, tried to ignore the shudder that went through her. He was just picking at stitches, hoping she’d unravel.

  It was uncomfortable to be back in the library, her gaze going automatically to the small stain on the rug. But only for a moment, because Vince was already there, standing against a shelf, his arms bound in the same onyx restraints that had been hanging on the wall in the hidden hallway.

  She took in the despair in his gray eyes, his broad shoulders and the muscles beneath them. Took in the dark gold of his hair and the angry line of his mouth. Looking at him made her stomach hurt.

  “Char,” he said. “You should have gone when you had a chance.”

  She turned her face away, not sure if she was capable of doing what was necessary with him watching.

  “And who is this?” Malik asked.

  “That’s Edmund, his grandson,” Bellamy said, peering at Vince as though trying to convince himself of something. “I thought he was dead.”

  “Oh, we’ll get to that,” Salt said.

  Adeline entered the room in her long black gown and perched on the arm of a chair. “Can I get any of you a drink?”

  Charlie, having been drugged once in this room already, shook her head.

  Vicereine settled herself into a chair opposite Adeline. “All right, Lionel. Now, explain yourself.”

  He looked relaxed, pleased. Charlie thought he might even be enjoying himself. “I became involved with the Hierophant because we had a common interest. The murderer of Knight Singh was also the murderer of my grandson. It stands before you, in his guise. But it isn’t him. You’re looking at his shadow.”

  “That is impossible,” said Malik.

  “Are you saying this man is a Blight?” asked Bellamy, walking up to Vince.

  Vince glowered but made no move to step away.

  Bellamy reached out a hand. Almost immediately upon touching Vince’s upper arm, he pulled back in surprise. He turned toward Vicereine, who said nothing.

  “My grandson had always taken a somewhat unorthodox approach to shadow magic. He treated his shadow like an entirely separate being, one he let make decisions for them both. Eventually, it became independent enough to trick him.”

  “Trick him?” Bellamy echoed, more intrigued than astonished. Masks were almost exclusively interested in mysteries, which led to lots of academics and even more mad scientists. Charlie had always figured they were a bit of a hodgepodge of the other specialties, and she could see why someone like Vince would be especially intriguing to them.

  “He was deceived into conducting a ritual from the book, one that proved fatal—”

  Charlie interrupted him. “That’s not true. You’re the one that killed Remy.”

  “Did it tell you that?” Salt asked, making his voice gentle. “It used Remy’s life, and created this shell in which it’s hiding. It then absconded with the book and began murdering anyone who knew about it. A rare book dealer. Knight, who’d had access to the Liber Noctem while it was at Sotheby’s. And finally, a thief who I’d contracted to steal it back.”

  It all sounded reasonable when he said it, and Vince stood there, denying nothing. Charlie could feel her control of the situation slip away.

  “Shadows lie, my dear,” Salt went on. “If you have a Blight stitched to you, it will whisper in your ear, and every gloamist knows not to believe everything it says. That is why it is a heavy burden to drape yourself in another’s shadow.”

  Charlie glanced at the Hierophant. As much as Salt might be enjoying this, the Hierophant was not.

  “Both of you are claiming to have solved the murder. You’re saying that’s a Blight, and it’s responsible for all those murders,” Malik said to Salt, then turned to Charlie. “While you, for some reason, believe it was Lionel and Stephen?”

  She nodded, glancing at Vince, who still didn’t speak. “Knight’s not the first gloamist Lionel Salt killed, either.”

  Salt smiled and stood, pacing the room, clearly believing he’d already won. “Allow me to order proof of my version of events. Adeline, my dear, what did Edmund call his shadow?”

  Charlie was dressed in the color. Red, the scarlet of poppies and cutthroats.

  Adeline smiled at her. “Red.”

  “And what was on the walls where Adam Lokken—that thief I hired—was killed?” he asked Charlie.

  “The word ‘red,’” she told them reluctantly. “Painted in blood. But it was meant to threaten Vincent, since the Hierophant believed he had the book.”

  “Vincent?” Bellamy echoed.

  “She means me,” Vince said.

  Adeline startled, and the others seemed surprised too, as though they’d forgotten he could speak.

  “Isn’t it more likely that the Blight wished everyone to know who had murdered Adam and that’s why it covered the walls with its name?” Salt said. “The Hierophant has, again, I remind you, shown no inclination toward bloodshed.”

  “The fuck he hasn’t,” Charlie said.

  Salt’s hooded gaze was on her, unrelenting. “Now, how close to where Red was living was Paul Ecco murdered?”

  “A few blocks, but I don’t see what that has to do with—”

  “And how close to where Red was living was Adam Lokken murdered?”

  Charlie sighed, frustrated. “He lived in the house where the murder happened, but he’d left. He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there in days.”

  “And who had he lived with in that house, prior to leaving?”

  “Me,” Charlie admitted.

  “And isn’t it likely that you got the book from Red, since you’ve been living with him—rather than that you broke through my extensive security.”

  “I could show everyone how I did it,” Charlie offered sweetly.

  “Yes,” said Salt. “That brings us to one other thing. Do you think there’s a reason he insinuated himself into your life, something about you he might have wanted?”

  Charlie folded her arms over her chest, looking Salt in the face. “I don’t know. My tits? Maybe my ass?”

  It broke some of the tension in the room. Vicereine snorted. Bellamy smiled. But Salt was undeterred. “You don’t suppose it’s because you’re a well-known thief? The Charlatan, who stopped taking freelance gigs, coincidentally of course, right around the time she met Red.”

  Charlie took a stuttering breath. It had been one thing for them to know she was a thief, but it was a little different for them to know she was someone they all had some experience with. Although she’d done a job or two for Vicereine, the others had only experienced her as a cause of misfortune.

  You’ve lost them, Charlie Hall. They’re never going to believe you now. You should have figured that a billionaire would make a pretty good con artist.

  “Tell us, did it inform you it was a living shadow?” Salt asked. “Or did it give you a false name and a false history, along with its false face?”

  Charlie couldn’t help thinking of the fairy tale of the scholar’s shadow, playing at love. Of Vince’s hungry mouth on hers. Of him cooking her eggs.

  “I know who Vince is,” said Charlie. “And I know who you are. You poisoned me when I was fifteen. Your people chased me through the woods. Don’t talk to me about false faces.”

  Bellamy raised his eyebrows. Adeline looked over at Vince, as though for confirmation. But it wasn’t like Charlie thought any of the Cabal would care all that much about something that had happened over a decade ago, to someone who wasn’t a gloom, even if they believed her.

  But she wanted Salt to know.

  “So you have a grudge against me,” he said smoothly, which was ballsy but clever. Put your worst foot forward, admit to one bad thing so they think you’re honest when you deny another.

  His attempt to cast the blame on Vince was unnervingly convincing. Salt had strung together enough parts for it to make sense, especially since the proof could cut both ways. And he was rich, which always helped, while Vince was a terrifying monster, even without the question of the murders.

  The knowledge that she might not be able to turn this thing around ramped her nerves up even higher.

  “Well?” Malik asked Vince. “Did you kill those people? We know you can talk.”

  Vince looked at him expressionlessly. Charlie thought his assessment of the situation might be even more grim than hers. “I was Remy’s shadow. I would never have hurt him. And I didn’t touch Knight Singh.”

  “Do you have anything else to add, Stephen?” Vicereine asked. “You have been acting strangely lately.”

  “I haven’t been sleeping well,” Stephen said, looking at them. “I have a lot of nightmares.”

  Bellamy touched his shoulder and he flinched.

  “I understand my punishment,” Stephen told them. “All I want is to be done serving out my sentence.”

  “Did you murder a gloamist?”

  He shook his head. “No. I hunt Blights. Which is why I’ve been seeking Red. Just Red.” Halfway through that second sentence, Charlie thought she could tell that something else seemed to be speaking. It was a smooth transition, easy to miss if you hadn’t been looking for it.

  “What made you so interested in the Liber Noctem?” Vicereine asked.

  The Hierophant shrugged. “Lionel promised that I could read it. To help with my work.”

  How long had this Blight been bound to a series of fuck-ups and ne’er-do-wells? Forced to hunt its own kind? Charlie would have felt sympathetic if she thought it was interested in something other than killing her.

  Salt cleared his throat. “Red is a deceiver, a thing formed of envy and corruption and hatred that my grandson sought to slough off. It has poured honey in this poor girl’s ears. Let us end this ridiculous conversation and go back to the party. I will keep the Blight restrained, and you can determine what to do with him tomorrow or the next day.”

  “Wait!” Charlie said. “I can prove I got the book from his safe. I can show you where it is, and I can open it.”

  “I’m not sure that’s—” Malik began.

  “I offered before,” Charlie interrupted. “And he barely even acknowledged it. Right now, I am the only one with any proof. I have the Liber Noctem.”

  “Which could prove your point as well as mine,” said Salt. “And you forget, I have Red.”

  “Let me show you,” Charlie said. “Please.”

  Vicereine glanced at Salt. “Is it possible?”

  “Absolutely not,” he said with a small smile. “My security is impenetrable. She has that book because the Blight stole it.”

  Bellamy raised his eyebrows. “Then why not? A small demonstration and we can go back to the party.”

  Charlie’s hands were sweating as she nodded to all of them. She set down the Liber Noctem on a table near where the Hierophant stood and ignored the way he moved automatically toward it.

  “Very well,” Salt said. “Go ahead, thief.”

  She walked to where Dante’s Inferno sat and pulled it. One of the bookshelves swung open.

  “Interesting,” said Vicereine.

  “Yes,” said Salt. “I rather like that little room.”

  Charlie went to the painting and pushed it so that the safe was revealed. Then she went to work. She already knew the codes, but she needed to make something of a show of the first part, so she found the notches all over again for them. It was dramatic, and bought a little time. She could see they were impressed when the handle went down halfway.

  “What are we going to find inside?” asked Malik.

  “Gold, gems, the usual,” Charlie said.

  Salt just smiled. He’d taken a few steps back from the others, one hand going to the inside pocket of his coat.

  When it came to the digital part, Charlie keyed in the code carefully. She looked back at the Cabal, at Vince, took a deep breath, and turned the lever.

  The alarm went off, filling the room with a sound like a siren. Salt punched in another code and the sound stopped.

  “You did that,” she accused him.

  He shook his head, eyes lit with the satisfaction of winning. “Don’t be ridiculous. You failed, that’s all.”

  “Okay, so open the safe,” Charlie said, her heart speeding, a blur of hummingbird wings in her chest. “Prove you didn’t.”

  “Very well, I will indulge you one last time,” he said, enjoying the moment enough to draw it out. He punched in what she could see were the same set of numbers that she’d used. The lever turned and the door to the safe swung open.

  His phone. He’d slipped it out while she was working and activated the alarm as she finished. While she’d been showing off, he’d been finding a way to stop her.

  “We’re sorry for doubting you,” Malik said to Salt. “But you understand we had to—”

  “Wait,” Vicereine said, reaching past him. “I know that book.”

  And from the safe, she took out Knight Singh’s notebook, papers detailing Salt’s crimes in his own hand shoved hastily back into the leather cover, edges sticking out. Right where Charlie had left it when she’d taken the Liber Noctem.

  “I—” Salt began, but no words came.

  Charlie had known the way to trap Salt since the day she’d spent with him. She’d thought it then, idly, not realizing how much it would matter. Let him dominate. Let him win. He’d be so certain he belonged on top that he’d never guess he was being drawn into a trap.

  He’d honestly believe that she gave him all that time while she futzed around with the first lock for no goddamn reason.

  He’d honestly believe that she could crack a safe but not be able to guess he had a security app on his phone.

  “Ms. Hall must have put it there, whatever it is,” Salt said finally, recovering enough to realize he had to pin the appearance of Knight’s book on someone else immediately.

  Lionel Salt was a planner. Charlie was sure he’d planned for being confronted with any number of his crimes. He’d be able to explain lots of true things. But no one can plan for planted evidence.

  “I thought that I couldn’t get into your safe?” Charlie reminded him. “Isn’t that what you were trying to prove? Which is it: Did you hide the Liber Noctem in there, and I stole it while putting something else in your safe? Or did I lie about the Liber Noctem, and you’re lying now?”

  Lionel Salt cut his gaze toward the Hierophant. Admitting to the first was less damning, but it meant admitting he’d been stringing along a very old and powerful Blight.

  Vicereine was opening the papers stuffed into the top of Knight’s book, smoothing them out. Charlie wasn’t sure that Salt knew what they were, but she could tell by the way Vicereine’s expression shifted that she realized who’d written them.