Read Wicked After Midnight (Blud) for Free Online Page A

me a glare. “You should take care to curb your attitude before you reach university, my dear. The professors have been known to strike deserving miscreants with a cane. Bludmen are not exempt from manners.”
    As soon as she was gone, I sat up and held out my hand to Cherie, so she could see what nestled in my palm.
    “Demi. You didn’t.” She poked the pile of coins with a finger.
    I grinned. “Criminy taught me well.”
    “We can’t use it. Even if I agreed, even if I wanted togo to Paris, all the carriages in Callais leave from the same place. She would find us in a heartbeat.”
    Tucking the coins back into my pocket, I sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. No point in trying to give her the slip. Oh, well. Good night, Cherie,”
    She looked me up and down. “You’re not going to change into your nightclothes?”
    “Of course not. Good Pinky girls don’t change in inns. Who knows if they have bludrats?”
    “Excellent point. You’re finally starting to be sensible.”
    She lay down on the bed beside mine, fully clothed, and blinked sleepily at me.
    “It’s strange, going to bed this way. I’m so used to being in the top bunk with you below me. And now you’re staring at me. And we’re in Franchia.”
    I rolled over, showing her my back. “Creepy staring problem solved. Don’t worry, honey. Everything will be better in the morning.”
    But I hadn’t shown her what was in my other pocket. And I wasn’t going to sleep yet, either.
    *   *   *
    “Cherie, wake up. We have to hurry.” I rolled her shoulder gently and glanced over her at Mademoiselle Caprice, who let out a roaring snore.
    “Why? Are we late for the carriage?”
    “We will be.” I slipped a vial into her hand and guided it, uncorked, to her lips.
    She chugged it agreeably and blinked at me. “Where’s Mademoiselle Caprice?”
    I stifled a giggle. “Sleeping off too many daimon drinks, I suppose.”
    But Cherie knew me too well. Her eyes went to slits. “What did you do, Demi?”
    “Well, Cherie, I might have brought a bag of Criminy’s famous sleeping powder. And I might have used it on her after she went to sleep. And I might have grabbed our papers and carriage tickets from her reticule. And she might be sleeping for another day, at least, because I might have used more powder than was necessary.” I held up our forged papers in one hand and a sack of coins in the other and waggled my eyebrows.
    Cherie groaned and stood, looking down at our insensate chaperone with her usual concern. “Oh, dear Aztarte. You are a horrible person and a bad influence, and Criminy is going to kill us, and we’re just going to sit right here and wait until she wakes up and pretend like nothing ever happened, because I really don’t want Criminy to kill us.”
    “Criminy has to find us before he can kill us, and he’s not going to find us.” I smiled and patted her shoulder. “At least, not until we’re the most celebrated act in the cabarets of Mortmartre.”
    “No. No no no no no. I’m going to Ruin. I’m going to university. I am not, under any circumstances, going to Paris. And I’m definitely not going to the cabarets. Did you even listen to Caprice yesterday? It’s dangerous. Even for us.”
    “And it’s the only way to be a star.”
    “I. Don’t. Want. To. Be. A. Star.” She punctuated each word with a little slap on top of my head.
    “I don’t want anything else but to be a star. Besides, you’re going to live to be three hundred. You’ve got plenty of time to make youthful errors. You can always use your mad cash from the cabaret to go to university later, after you sow your wild oats.”
    Cherie sat down and put her head in her hands.
    “What are oats, and why should I sew them? I hate sewing. Honestly, Demi, I feel like a mother with an out-of-control child. You won’t listen to anyone. Not me, not Mademoiselle Caprice, not even Criminy and Letitia. Why can’t you just be happy with what you have?”
    I