Louis almost laughed out loud at someone calling him “sir.” This was perfection.
“Just a trifling thing: an alliance of a sort.”
Mitch looked unconvinced, but he turned over one hand on the table, the traditional signal of his willingness to bargain.
Louis nodded at the empty cocoa cups. “It is obvious you require help with my daughter. If you truly knew her, you’d realize that the mere smell of chocolate is enough to make her disgorge her breakfast.”
Mitch’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t realized.”
“It’s the little things in romance that women notice,” Louis told him. “Details count. I have a nearly infinite amount of experience in these matters. Let me help you.”
“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
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 deal and proper backstabbing when presented with one.
Yes, he would approach Eliot’s potential paramour, the delectable Jezebel.
Although this would mean a trip to the Poppy Lands and a smoothing of things with Sealiah. Perhaps it was not a bad idea. He had dwelled far too long in the world of light. A trip to the old country would be rejuvenating.
And he could use Sealiah to forget, he hoped, Audrey.
Besides, providence had provided the cash for the train ticket and all appropriate bribes. He opened his hand and counted the money that young Mr. Stephenson had left on the table for the waitress-the money Louis had snatched as he scattered the salt.
One never turned one’s back on so simple an opportunity.
Such a large tip! Indeed, how was Louis supposed to do business with such fools?
Fiona staggered into the locker room, half-dead.
Mr. Ma had made them do calisthenics and reflex drills all afternoon.
It hadn’t helped when Fiona asked why they had been singled out for this punishment, and Sarah added that it was unfair because their parents spent fortunes to send them here and this wasn’t a prison camp, and Amanda had even asked why Teams Dragon and Wolf weren’t doing the same exercises.
By way of answering, Mr. Ma made the girls run around the coliseum five times, while the rest the team was dismissed.
The man was a sadist.
She would’ve been angry. . had she the energy. As it was, she was barely able to stand and let the shower run over her body.
Fiona toweled off and sat on the bench by her locker.
Amanda came out of the shower a moment later, her towel tight about her body. Sarah followed, towel wrapped only about her head, unabashedly glowing and looking refreshed as if she’d just taken a light jog.
Conspicuously absent was Jezebel. No one had seen her since the new semester started, an entire week ago.
Amanda pulled away the hair plastered to her face, and followed Fiona’s gaze to Jezebel’s locker. “You think she’s okay? She didn’t look so great after the midterm match.”
“I don’t know,” Fiona replied.
“Jezebel is an Infernal,” Sarah said, “and she’s shrugged off damage that would have shattered a normal person’s bones. But she better get back soon.” She took out her blow-dryer and shook out her mane of red hair.
