All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [47]
“Ah, Robert—there you are.” Henry Mimes was in the kitchen, hidden by the open stainless steel refrigerator door. He emerged with a bottle of wine and a glass.
“New digs, Mr. Mimes?”
“Do you like it?”
Robert shrugged. His eyes were glued on Aaron.
“Don’t worry about him,” Mr. Mimes said with a careless wave. Wine slopped out of his glass. “He’s here to help.”
So, they were all friends now? Robert doubted that.
Aaron released the heavy bag on its hook. The beam overhead creaked. It had to be filled with sand and must have weighed half a ton.
Aaron hit it bare-knuckled. The bag deformed and careened back.
“Where’s your Paxington uniform?” Mr. Mimes asked.
Robert had stripped out of the jacket and down to his plain white T-shirt the moment he got off campus. Next order of business was to find some jeans and proper riding boots. He hitched his thumb at his saddlebag, where he had stuffed the blazer.
“It’s dry clean only,” Mr. Mimes said with a sigh. “Well, no matter. Give us your report.”
“Okay, hang on a second. My brain feels turned inside out and wrung dry from the placement exam. I’m glad I only had to do one day of this stuff.”
“You did have all the answers,” Mr. Mimes said, his brows scrunching together with concern.
“Yeah. Those helped. But the answers you gave me weren’t in the right order, and guessing which ones went where wasn’t easy. Some of the stuff seemed like Greek to me—heck, some of the stuff was in Greek.”
Robert had cheated under the watchful gaze of Miss Westin. He wasn’t sure what she was, but she could give any Immortal in the League a run for their money in the “icy stare” department.
He shuddered.
“And what of the other students?” Mr. Mimes inquired.
“Paxington snobs,” Robert said. “Their noses are stuck so far into the air, you’ve got to wonder how they walk without tripping. Spoiled pukes with a little power inflating their already empty heads.”
“As I expected,” Aaron grumbled.
“Well, not one girl—that Amanda Lane you wanted me to check out. She’s clueless. Made it through her exams somehow, though. I kind of feel sorry for her.”
“Ah, good,” Mr. Mimes said. “An education is the least we can do for her. The League owes that girl much.”
Aaron and Mr. Mimes shared a quick glance.
Robert knew from that simple look there was more to Amanda Lane than they were telling him.
“And the twins?” Mr. Mimes asked.
Eliot and Fiona. A raw nerve twinged in Robert.
He had been glad to see them alive and in good spirits, but the feelings he had for Fiona . . . There was too much there, and it was all so complicated. Robert wasn’t built to deal with stuff like this.
“They’re fine. Great,” Robert muttered. “And, of course, they passed their exams.” Robert swallowed, suddenly uneasy. “Only one thing happened at the end . . . Kino.” His mouth went dust dry. “He picked them up after school.”
Robert was sure he hadn’t been spotted by Kino. He’d been just one more clueless Paxington punk in a uniform to him. Robert had gotten out of there quick, though, probably saving himself some fate-worse-than-death League payback.
“Kino moves faster than we thought,” Aaron commented. He waved Robert closer.
“Than you thought,” Mr. Mimes said.
Robert wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind, but he dared not disobey. He moved closer.
Aaron lifted Robert’s hands and slipped on lightweight boxing gloves. He indicated that Robert hit the bag.
Robert gave him a you’ve got to be kidding look, but Aaron waited. Robert tried a tentative jab.
The bag was rock solid. Literally.
Aaron frowned, and this made his mustache droop. “With your entire body,” he told Robert. “Use your legs. They are your most powerful muscles.”
“Now, give me your report from the top again,” Mr. Mimes said, “but this time everything about the twins.”
Right. The twins. That’s what this was all about. Robert was just a spy, a glorified errand boy.
Robert punched. This time he threw his entire weight behind it, and the bag rocked a bit. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. He’d never been that strong.