All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [109]
“At the café,” he told her, “just outside Paxington.”
Next to Eliot, Fiona shifted nervously as if he might mention she was with them.
But Eliot was talking about this morning when he’d been alone with the Prince of Darkness.
Eliot remembered how fascinated Louis had been with his new cell phone, too . . . how he had picked it up.
That’s when he must have made the switch.
Louis had played him for a fool as easily as he had so many others.
“Eliot,” Audrey said, her words softer now. “You must be careful. Louis speaks the most delicate mix of lies and truths. You will not be able to discern one from the other with him. He is called the Great Deceiver for good reason.”
Eliot nodded. Louis obviously hadn’t lied to him. He of all people would know Eliot would be able to sense outright lies. He’d known Eliot would rely on his new ability . . . and completely fall for his more sophisticated mistruths.
Audrey turned to Fiona, asking, “How could you let your brother talk to that creature? I thought you knew better.”
Fiona inhaled, but before she could answer, Eliot cut her off. “She wasn’t there,” he said.
If anyone was going to get into trouble for talking to Louis, it would be him. Just him. Fiona had encouraged him not to speak to their father.
“Very well,” Audrey said with a sigh, “let me see your credit cards.”
Eliot and Fiona dug through their bags and retrieved their platinum charge cards.
Audrey scrutinized Fiona’s, then flicked it back to her. She examined Eliot’s. “Both are real. At least Louis did not gain access to the League’s discretionary funds. That is some conciliation.”
With her scissors she cut Eliot’s credit card into a dozen pieces.
“What did you do that for?” he cried.
Audrey arched one of her eyebrows at his outburst. “Because you have let your father take advantage of you. You should never have spoken to him against my wishes. You should not have any interaction with that side of your family. They will destroy you. Or worse, they would use you to destroy others.”
Eliot’s outrage cooled.
Use him to destroy others? Isn’t that what Louis had told him, too? That both Infernal and Immortal families would try to use Eliot and Fiona to circumvent their neutrality treaty and start a war?
Could some of what he’d said been the truth?
Audrey swept the credit card fragments into her palm. “You have a great deal to learn. And until such time, you cannot be trusted with such valuable League assets.”
Like Eliot had even used the stupid credit card—like he ever would have a chance between all his studies, gym class, getting dragged to Hell, and fighting in alleys.
Audrey plucked up the priceless Fabergé egg, stormed in the kitchen, and came back with the trash can. She hesitated only a moment as she gazed once more at the egg—then dumped it.
Eliot glared so hard at her, with so much anger, that it felt like his gaze bored right through his mother.
For one moment, Eliot let his anger take him, and the blood burned through every vein and artery . . . and then he cooled it and contained it all, compressing it to a white hot spark deep within his core.
“I’m going to my room,” he muttered. “I’ve got homework.”
Fiona tried to say something, but Eliot walked away.
Once in his room, he closed the door and slid a few boxes of still-unpacked books against it.
Then he fumed.
But what good was getting angry, unless you did something with it?
He set his pack on his bed, pulled out Lady Dawn, and tried a few notes of that song the egg played. They flowed like water over his hand and strings; moonlight danced and reflected off his walls. The song was a little sad.
It soothed his soul.
He was about to grab the bow and really play, when his eyes lit up on his bookshelf. Wedged between volume seven of The Golden Bough and Languorous Lullabies was a thick segmented book spine covered in dark gray leather.
Mythica Improbiba.
He was sure he’d deliberately not unpacked this book. He’d found it in their old basement, just before their first heroic trial.