The stairs spiraled down into a lower-level lounge full of scarlet and pink and pillows. The air was faintly perfumed with chlorine and the windows glowed with subaquatic blue light. A chandelier projected shadows that dappled the ceiling with the shapes of goats and wolves.
“Unzip me,” Adeline said, laughing as she turned around.
Remy tossed back the rest of his drink. The world had blurred a little at the edges, and he had the beginning of a pleasant buzz.
A woman in black pants and shirt came down the stairs at a run. “Excuse me,” she said, looking slightly panicked. “You’re not allowed here.”
“Who are you?” Adeline asked, sounding impressively haughty.
“I’m part of the staff. We’ve been asked to keep people out of the private parts of the house.” Her tone was apologetic but firm.
“This is Jefferson’s place,” Remy told her. “My friend. He doesn’t care if we’re down here.”
“Well, his parents do.” She nodded toward the glass in his hand. “You’ve been drinking. It’s an insurance thing.”
“Red could make her change her tune,” Adeline said to Remy.
He rolled his eyes. “Overkill.”
The woman took a step in the direction of the stairs. Probably the word “kill” in any context made her nervous.
“Let Red play,” Adeline insisted, a cruel little smile on her mouth. Maybe it was because she’d been embarrassed, her zipper half down her back. Maybe it was the flip side of cheerful sociopathy, but when she was like this, she wouldn’t back down. “Come on. It’ll be funny.”
“Use your own shadow then,” Remy told her. “Or better yet, let’s just go upstairs.”
This was the second quickened shadow to which she’d been tethered. The first one withered away, the graft failing. The second one took, but she seldom practiced with it. He thought it made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t like admitting it.
Adeline gave him a look. “We’re not going anywhere.”
What is it I am supposed to do? He heard the question in his mind, felt his shadow’s annoyance and wasn’t sure if it was his as well.
Puppet her, Remy thought back. Make her go upstairs or say something stupid. Scare her. Don’t hurt her.
You don’t want me to make her drown herself? He was almost sure Red was joking.
There was a time that he would have had to maintain a bifurcated consciousness, but not anymore. Red just did things. Ideally, what you told him, but occasionally something else entirely. Remy could probably stop him if he tried. Probably.
The woman gave a shudder and a gasp as Remy’s shadow shifted to overlap hers.
Adeline clapped her hands in delight.
The woman’s mouth moved, grating out words. “I’m not getting paid enough for this shit. Go ahead. Use the pool, assholes.”
Remy laughed. He found it a little disturbing how much Red would have to know about people to come up with something so entirely realistic, but it was still funny.
Adeline gave a sigh of annoyance. “No, make her say something embarrassing.”
The woman’s body moved jerkily, her eyes wild with panic. “Stop ordering me around, Adeline,” she said. “I don’t like it.”
Adeline turned to Remy, astonished and offended. “Did you—”
“Oh, come on,” Remy said. “He’s just having a laugh.”
Then the woman gasped, hand going to her mouth as Red let her go. She looked at them both, tears starting in her eyes, then ran up the stairs.
Adeline turned to Remy, eyes blazing. She was furious. Remy didn’t think she’d have been so angry if he’d said that, but she thought of Red as a toy, and toys weren’t supposed to answer back. Especially not in public.
Before she could lecture Remy on controlling his shadow, Madison, Topher, and Brooks thundered down the stairs. Topher had gone to the same prep school as Remy, and he and Adeline knew the others from running in the same circles.
“My man,” Brooks said, going in for the one-armed guy hug. “Heard there was a pool. Should have known you would get here first.”
Maddy had swiped a bottle of Don Julio 1942 from the mirrored bar. “Oh, I should have gotten glasses,” she said.
“I can pour a shot straight into your mouth,” offered Remy, relaxing in their company.
The five of them skinny-dipped in the pool together, drinking tequila and laughing. Adeline seemed to forget about what had happened, and everything was normal again. Then they put back on their clothes, got hold of Jefferson, his girlfriend, and someone else’s cousin and went out to The Box, where acrobats were flying through the air, along with a single shadow. At various points, it held them suspended above the crowd, making them appear to be hanging on to absolutely nothing.
Topher wanted to roll bliss, and Adeline showed off her gloaming ability by sending him off. When she was done with him, he was in such a state that he could only loll in a corner of their private booth, murmuring to himself and twitching. Remy hoped that she’d given him the promised good time. She’d sent people off into weeklong bouts of terror before, and by then it was clear her foul mood had returned.
Brooks and Jefferson, impressed, asked her a lot of questions in a way that made it clear they were interested in more than the answers.
Maddy and the cousin had begun making out, both their skirts pushed up so high that it was clear only one of them was wearing underwear.
Remy tried to avoid Adeline’s wrath by talking to the girls at the next booth, who recruited him to play a drinking game. You were supposed to all stare at one other person, and if you locked eyes, shout “Medusa!” before the other did.
He’d had at least three more shots of tequila when Adeline put her hand on his shoulder.
She appeared to be quite drunk. “Tell Red to kiss me.”
Remy was far from sober himself, but even he knew that was a bad idea. “Come on, Adeline. Sit down and play with us.”
Her shadow whipped toward one of the girls, smacking her in the head hard enough that she bit through the glass she was about to take a sip from.
He stood as the girl’s friends tried to use napkins to stop the bleeding.
Remy didn’t want to think about the girl’s pink teeth. The way the chunk of glass had fallen onto the table, glossy with spit. “Come on, let’s go home. It’s late.”
“Don’t you want Red to?” she shouted as he dragged her through the club.
Remy didn’t answer.
“Tell him he has to do what I say.” They were out on the street. “Or I’ll tell my father that he’s a Blight half the time.”
Remy groaned. “Stop with the threats. It’s exhausting. You’re exhausting tonight.”
“Tell him,” she insisted.
“Fine,” he lied. “I just did.” It wasn’t like Red hadn’t heard everything anyway.
“I think you’re the one that made him be awful to me,” she said.
Remy didn’t bother to deny it. They were both wasted, and likely to get into a stupid argument. They’d been together too much these past few months, living in each other’s pockets. It wasn’t normal. They shared too many awful secrets. It was making them snipe at one another.
Adeline was still sulking as they staggered into the pied-à-terre. Remy didn’t care. He was planning on going to bed and sleeping through brunch.
He sobered up fast when he saw his grandfather waiting for them. He sat on the couch, a single light on, giving his face an eerie illumination.
“Have you ever heard of Cleophes of York?” he asked them, as though continuing a conversation they’d been having.
“No?” replied Remy hesitantly. This was the price of Salt’s money, living on his terms and his time.
“A very old Blight,” Salt said. “Tethered five years ago. I think I figured out a way to talk to him without the person who’s been wearing him knowing. We’re going to try an experiment.”
Adeline frowned. “What kind?”
“Good old ketamine.” He picked up a vial of liquid from the coffee table and shook it. “I am going to inject Edmund and we’ll see if that allows Red to puppet him.”
“I’m too drunk,” Remy protested. “Mixing booze and drugs is how rock stars die.”
Salt snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. Now sit on the couch and roll up your sleeve.”
“Seriously,” Remy said. “Tomorrow.”