Page 19 of Thief of Night (The Charlatan Duology #2)

“She’s waiting for you inside, Mr. Carver,” he said, gaze going to Charlie as though bringing her along had to be a mistake.

People who looked like Charlie—rumpled, bruised, in boots that smelled vaguely of booze—only came to places like this to rob them, and they didn’t usually do that in broad daylight.

Although, to be fair, Charlie knew a couple of burglars who swore daylight was the best time for larceny.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, sliding out.

Red walked up the steps fast, the way anyone might in a familiar place. Charlie would have knocked when she came to the massive double doors, but he didn’t, of course. He just walked inside.

Because this was his home.

A shudder went through her as she followed him.

She found Red standing stiffly in the hall, with Adeline’s arms around him. Adeline pulled back only to go up on her toes and kiss both his cheeks in what Charlie supposed was the European manner.

There was something different about Adeline. Her hair was glossier, her highlights more lusciously caramel. She wore dark beige wool trousers and a cream cashmere sweater. A bloodred Birkin rested on the sideboard. Charlie had never seen one in real life before.

She supposed it was very different to be a billionaire, rather than just the daughter of a billionaire.

Looping her arm through Red’s, Adeline circled his wrist with her hand. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, looking up at him. “Darling, you’re going to have to loosen up. We’ll practice that now you’re going to be Remy. Do you think you can bear answering to his name?”

“No,” Red said, through what seemed like gritted teeth. “I’m not Remy.”

She gave a long sigh. “I know. It’s awful. But we’ve always made do with less than ideal circumstances. Invent another name. Not Red. Too many of our associates know it. Not Vincent, of course. That doesn’t suit you at all—which is, no doubt, why you chose it.”

He didn’t respond.

“Carver,” Adeline said finally. “Now that might work. Your friends called you than in school.”

“It’s certainly more appropriate,” he admitted.

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek and told herself that she was glad Red was going to get Salt’s money. Adeline clearly thought she wouldn’t be, so Charlie wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being right.

“So, what? He has to sign some papers and then you give him half the family fortune?” Charlie asked.

Adeline gave a tinkling little laugh. “Isn’t that what I promised back when we were at the Cabal tower?

I brought Remy back from the dead so that Red could live his life and receive his inheritance.

” She went to the bloodred Birkin and hunted around inside of it until she came up with a folded manila envelope.

With a small, secretive smile she handed it to Red.

He ripped it open, accidentally ripping it so wide that the contents fell to the floor.

Charlie instinctively knelt down to help gather them up. Two credit cards—an American Express in a silver metal and a black Mastercard. And paperwork, clipped together with a heavy brass clasp.

“It’s no Palladium,” Adeline said, indicating the card.

“But I want you to have it until everything is settled. Look things over, then we can go to Grassl Law offices, where you’ll sign the papers in front of them and get things notarized.

The probate judge has agreed to hear us privately.

He’s going to honor Salt’s original will, which gave you an equal share to what I got. ”

“I assume you’ve paid him,” Red said, his voice empty of emotion.

Adeline laughed. “I’ve paid all of them.”

Charlie flipped through the paperwork. Bank forms, with dizzyingly large numbers on them. And something else. Charlie held it up. “Financial and medical power of attorney? He’s supposed to sign that over to you?”

Adeline’s smile was sly. “To protect him. From people who might try to manipulate him. Or feel entitled to his money.”

“He’s supposed to jump out of the frying pan into the fire?” It felt good to have someone to channel her anger toward, someone who richly deserved it.

“None of that is necessary,” Red said. “I’ll sign whatever gets me a driver’s license and nothing more.”

Adeline frowned. “Darling, don’t be ridiculous—”

“The money is yours,” he interrupted.

“But we should be sharing it,” she said. “You’re—”

“I’m not Remy. I’m his echo.”

Adeline made a sad face. “You’re what’s left of him.”

“No, he’s not,” Charlie spat. She thought of Salt calling him a parasite and how he hadn’t seemed insulted by that. “You’re a person . A whole person. Not an echo. Not what’s left.”

A whole person who wanted her dead. She had no idea why she was so furious on his behalf.

“Of course,” Adeline said after a beat of surprise.

“If you want me to have some of your inheritance, Addy,” Red said, looking from Charlie to her, “you can just give it to me. But I don’t need it.”

“I told Peter I wanted the money to be a gift.” She waved a hand in the air.

“But there’s some kind of tax thing. He says it’s better for you to get your portion of Salt’s estate through the court.

I’m in the process of selling off a few of the companies I inherited and I used some of the money to—well, it doesn’t matter.

We’ll have so much that we can live whatever kind of life we want.

When you become Remy, you can walk away from everything holding you back. ”

“Not from the Cabals,” Charlie said.

Adeline’s gaze went to her. “Talk to them. Find out what would make them let Red go. How much would it take?”

Charlie thought of her conversation with Vicereine. “You know that won’t work. You’ve already spoken with them. Your lawyer has spoken with them. And if you keep pushing, they’re going to get mad and push back.”

Adeline made a face. “They don’t want to seem as though they can be pushed around. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t something…”

People said that there were things money couldn’t buy, but Charlie wasn’t so sure.

Sure, you couldn’t buy love, but it was easier to love someone who wasn’t stressed about cash, who could cover the bill at restaurants, who didn’t have to work two jobs to make ends meet.

You couldn’t buy health, but there were so many ways that money made it easier to not get sick, and to get better if you were.

Maybe the Cabals wouldn’t exchange Red’s freedom for money directly, but Adeline could be right.

Money could supply a carrot—and if that didn’t work, it could apply a stick.

But the Cabals had a lot of sticks themselves.

“They asked me to give you a warning,” Charlie told her, wishing they hadn’t come.

Her nerves were fried from creeping out after Red last night.

She was exhausted, sad, and still sore. More than that, she hated Salt’s mansion.

Every time she entered it, she felt the helplessness and terror of her younger self. All she wanted was to leave.

Red held up the papers. “Thanks for these, Addy. We should go.”

“Well?” she said. “Shall we all head to Peter’s office? Get this done?”

He shook his head. “I’ll take it from here.”

Adeline’s eyes widened in surprise, as though she wasn’t used to him pushing back, even that small amount. “We need to go together. I have to sign the power of attorney form and the bank—”

“I don’t want any of that,” Red said.

Charlie saw what was about to happen, even if he didn’t. Adeline wasn’t going to let him have anything unless he signed over his life to her. But if that wasn’t enough to motivate him, she had other means. Carrot and stick, just like her father.

“I can’t let you be on your own,” Adeline said, putting her hand on his arm. “Red, you don’t understand the world yet. You need to let me help you.”

Adeline knew his secret. One word from her and he got nothing, but far worse, he was nothing. And while Adeline might put that nicely or dance around it a little longer, the threat was coming: you’re not a person, you’re a Blight.

Footsteps interrupted them.

Red glanced up at the woman descending the stairs and froze in the act of pulling away from Adeline.

Her smile became all satisfaction, a cat slumbering in a sunbeam. “You can’t go yet, Remy darling. There’s someone else who wants to see you. I promised we’d eat brunch together.”

The woman on the stairs had silver hair and a particularly patrician look. While elderly, she was notably younger than Salt. Red stared at her as though stricken.

As she descended, the woman’s eyes shone with tears.

Fiona’s sweet boy, Odette had said about Remy. Odette, who had once upon a time known both Salt and his first wife. And that was who this must be. Salt’s first wife, Fiona.

“Remy,” Adeline said. “It’s your grandmother.”

“I know who she is,” Red snarled, voice sharp with horror.

The woman crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t push her away, nor did he relax into her embrace, but stood frozen as a statue. His height and the broadness of his shoulders emphasized her birdlike smallness.

“I am so sorry,” she said, drawing back. “I thought you blamed me for your mother—oh, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should have never let you go to him. Just please understand that if I’d known, if I’d had the least hint, I would have done everything I could to get you away.”

“I remember living with you,” he said slowly, as though puzzling through a dream. “A long time ago. You read me fairy tales.”

She nodded. “Your mother insisted that you leave with her—and when Lionel wound up with custody of you, I thought you were safer. Oh, I was a fool.”

“You wrote R—me letters,” he said. “On my birthday.”

Red was forcing himself to say “wrote me letters” and “ my birthday” for Fiona’s sake, but there was an anguish in his expression that made Charlie wonder if he’d wanted those letters to be for him, if sometimes he’d pretended that they were.

His grandmother smiled. “I’m glad you got them. I wish I had done much more.”