She reached across the table to put her hand on his arm, trying to radiate sincerity. “Thanks for talking with me, even though I pressured you into it. Remy always said you were a good guy.”
Liam gave her a sad smile. “I thought he was too.”
* * *
Out in the parking lot, the sun had sunk low and red behind the buildings. Charlie checked the time on her phone. One more night before she had to be back at Rapture. Four more days before Salt wanted his book.
Liam’s description of the person who’d been looking for Vince had matched the Hierophant. She knew he wanted the book and had apparently been wanting it for a while. But what she still couldn’t figure was, lies aside, what all these people actually wanted the thing for.
The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. A man was behind her, his footfalls faster the closer he got.
25
BLACK CAT. TOAD. CROW.
There’s a moment of dissonance when people break the social contract. A moment when the civilized mind searches for some reason why a person might be running toward you that doesn’t mean they’re out to get you.
Luckily, Charlie’s mind wasn’t particularly civilized. She raced for her car.
He chased after, boots thudding dully on the asphalt.
She ran, full-out. Eight hours on her feet most nights meant her leg muscles were no joke.
But he was already too close and had momentum on his side. He caught her arm, spinning her around. She stumbled against her car and looked up into his face.
“Adam?” His eyes were bloodshot and his breath could peel paint, but it was him nonetheless.
He grabbed hold of her wig and tugged hard. It ripped loose, pulling pins and hair with it. “Charlie Hall. You miserable, monstrous bitch. Thought you were going to con me, and then rob me?”
“Yeah, something like that,” Charlie said evenly, meeting his gaze. No point in denying it.
He hit her, knuckles hard against her cheek. The back of her head hit the window of her car. She would have fallen except her fingers caught the handle of the door and she was able to hold on and stay mostly upright.
He punched her in the stomach.
All the air went out of her. She curled around the pain like a pill bug.
Charlie might talk tough, but she had never been in a real fistfight. Even with her sister, they’d mostly resorted to hair pulling and the occasional mean scratch.
Think, Charlie, she told herself, but shock and pain dulled her thoughts.
“Where’s the book?” he shouted. “Give it to me!”
“Gone,” she managed.
“I am going to break your face,” he told her. “Your ugly fucking face. I am so sick of hearing about you. Everyone thinks you were so great, but I’m better. You hear that? I was always the best.”
She spat at him. Saliva sprayed his cheek. He flinched in surprise, closing his eyes, giving her a moment to tear out of his arms.
Racing around to the other side of her car, she jerked open the door. He grabbed her throat.
And then she was in two places, as though there were more than three dimensions to the world. Her consciousness split. She was both the person screaming and trying to claw at his hand and she was something else, which rammed into him from the side.
Her shadow. She felt a pull somewhere in the center of her. And she saw it, a figure all of darkness, as though someone cut a hole in the universe. Her and not her. A mirror that reflected back no light.
He stumbled, and her butt hit the seat before he got hold of her again.
Animal instinct took over. Her body went wild, kicking and screaming. One kick landed against his upper arm, another scraped his knuckles. He howled in pain and let go of her. Charlie yanked the door shut. She slammed her hand down on the lock button.
The clicking sound from all four doors felt deafening.
Adam pulled on the door handle and Charlie had a horrible moment of being sure that it would open.
He beat his fists against the glass window.
She just sat there, her fingers running over the steering wheel. He was shouting at her, but her mind felt far away, numb with shock.
Even though she’d known Adam was terrible and that she’d robbed him—she’d underestimated the danger. A year out of the game, and she was fucking up left and right.
Though it was dormant, there was something new between Charlie and her shadow, a buzzing of sensation, an almost umbilical connection. A phantom limb. A homunculus.
With shaking hands, Charlie rooted out the key from her bag. Thankfully, the car roared to life. Adam pounded on the hood, and Charlie gave him a momentary warning of revving the engine, before hitting the gas. He reeled back just in time to avoid being hit. Heart thundering, Charlie steered herself out of the parking lot.