All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [176]
“So you’re giving power and money and help with Fiona?” Mitch murmured. “But you mentioned an alliance? . . .”
“Only the smallest of considerations in my behalf,” Louis said with a careless wave. “Fiona and I have had our moments, but there are so many family matters we have yet to settle. Her mother has made things most difficult.”
“Still confused over here,” Mitch said, his eyes narrowing.
Something about this boy was achingly familiar. Had they spoken before? Louis searched his memory: there was nothing but suspicion.
“After I have helped you secure your relationship with my daughter, from time to time I would have you mention—as a natural part of the conversation, mind you—how misunderstood I am. As a Stephenson, being an authority on such things, you can just let it slip out that among the Infernals I am the noblest, kindest, and most generous of their ilk.”
“I get the idea,” Mitch said. “You want me to lie.”
Louis frowned. “ ‘Lie’ is such an overused word. But no, never lie to Fiona. She would know the instant you spoke such a thing to her.”
“She can hear lies already?” Mitch whispered.
“Yes, yes,” Louis continued. “All you need do is tell her the truth about me . . . perhaps embellish as you see fit. I do have her best interests at heart.”
Mitch stared into his eyes, searching. “Astonishing. I believe you do.” Then he blinked and was all business again. “So you don’t want my soul?”
Louis laughed. “No, what would I want with your soul?”
The point was moot. If young Stephenson made this deal, upon his death his soul would naturally seek Louis’s realm (provided he had land by then). Of course, there was no need to mention this detail.
Louis spread his hands to the edge of the table. “All that is within my power to give shall be yours.”
Mitch considered this a moment; then his smile returned.
Louis grinned as well. So easy.
Mitch lifted his hand off the table and reached across toward Louis.
Louis did the same. All that formal business with written contracts and blood signatures could wait—a handshake would suffice and be binding for now.
Mitch, however, didn’t clasp his hand. He instead grabbed the salt-shaker off the table. With a flick of his fingers and some sleight of hand trickery, the top popped.
Mitch upended it and dumped a line of salt on the table between them.45
“May you one day choke on the truth,” Mitch said.
Most vile of insults! The boys did know their customs. Louis’s claws found purchase and cracked the glass tabletop.
He took a deep breath . . . resisting the impulse to remove the young man’s head. Not here. Too many witnesses. Someone would escape. And with his luck, Fiona would find out, and one more plan would backfire.
“So you, too, wish to bring Fiona to your side, Old Scratch?” Mitch laughed. “As always, behind the curve on such things. Fiona is her own side now. She doesn’t need to join yours.”
Louis hardly heard, so strong did the blood thunder through his body. Fiona her own side? What nonsense . . . and yet, he detected no lie.
“Clearly you are addled,” Louis whispered. “Or suicidal. Those are the only reasons for you being so reckless with such opportunities.”
Louis pushed away from the table, glaring at the salt between them. He reached out and scattered the offensive substance—as if such a trifling thing could ever stop him.
“When next we meet,” Louis growled, “there will be no table between us, young man. No veil of politeness, either. No deals. And no witnesses.”
Mitch nodded, unfazed. “I know. And I look forward to it, Deceiver.”
The boy smiled again, that same welcoming, warming smile Louis had first seen—only now there was an edge to it.
Outrageous! Louis strode back into the alley, where he could properly fume.
He had been a fool to deal with this boy. He should’ve realized that a practitioner of white magic would’ve been confused by Louis’s advanced sense of flexibile morality.
This left only one roundabout option . . . perhaps where Louis should’ve started in the first place: with his own kind. They, at least, would recognize the value of a double