MORTAL COILS (82 page)

“Or
Grandmother,” Eliot said, nodding.

“Or
Grandmother.”

Eliot
ran a hand over his head, tousling his hair. “I can’t think anymore.” He sighed
and sat on the floor. He flexed his hand, set down his violin, and pushed it
away. “You know, I think people died tonight—I mean, I killed them so you could
get that thing.” His voice had an edge now. “If you weren’t going to eat it,
you should have decided that before we started this.”

Eliot
was right; they had to get the apple. There hadn’t been a choice about that.
But she still had a choice to make. Possession of the apple completed the third
trial—assuming they got off the base and back to the Council. Eliot would be
safe . . . even if she died.

If
she ate the apple, it would be only to save herself, and she would have to
accept the consequences.

Hadn’t
this been predetermined? Aunt Dallas had showed her the thread of her destiny.
Her life was supposed to end. Now.

Or
could she choose another path? Choose to live instead of die? Choose not to be
like the rest of the family. Be something new. Be reborn.

She
took a deep breath and decided.

Fiona
brought the apple to her lips and took a tiny bite.

64

MOVING
VIOLATION

Robert
might have gone too far this time.

He
knew, though, Mr. Mimes would have his back. After all, he had ordered Robert
to protect and get close to Fiona.

It
was best to bend the rules when no one was looking. But at times you had to
break the rules out in the open . . . run them over a few times for good
measure . . . burn what was left, and scatter the ashes.

If
he could just explain . . .

Robert’s
former mentor Marcus had once told him, Start thinking of them as people—that’s
dangerous. Cross them once and you might as well try talking your way out of a
tidal wave.

Robert
sat on a metal folding chair on the sidelines of an indoor basketball court.
He’d been told to stay there by Mr. Mimes. It was uncomfortable and he had to
go to the bathroom, but he knew better than to get up.

So
he sat and shifted back and forth, waiting for Mr. Mimes and the one called
Gilbert to finish their game of one-on-one basketball.

Mr.
Mimes had stripped down to his shorts. He was whipcord lean but his body
rippled with a fine musculature. His hairlessness was in contrast to Gilbert,
who looked more Kodiak bear than man.

Mr.
Mimes moved around Gilbert, dribbled the ball between his open legs—and bounded
up the perfect shot.

When
Gilbert got the ball, he played slowly and methodically, until he was five
paces from the three-point line. He planted both feet and launched the ball. It
arced through the air and swished through the basket.

That
was the sixth shot he’d made that way, which easily won him the game.

If
Robert hadn’t known better, this would’ve looked like an ordinary game with two
guys.

Start
thinking of them as people—that’s dangerous.

Mr.
Mimes toweled off, shook Gilbert’s hand, and remarked, “Hardly any fun that
way.”

“Hardly
fun that way for you,” Gilbert said with a smile.

Outside
a torrential downpour drenched Mr. Mime’s island estate. The Aegean Sea had
whipped itself into a frenzy of froth and fury, and the Council amphitheater
was flooded.

Which
is why they were inside today.

But
why Mr. Mimes had picked his indoor basketball court to meet when he had three
grand ballrooms, Robert would never know. Maybe he just liked to keep people
off-balance.

Maybe
that’s why he had Robert sitting in this stupid chair.

Most
of the Council were already here on lower bleachers: Mr. Cornelius; the
gorgeous Dallas, who when she glanced at Robert with her catlike eyes made his
heart beat faster; the imposing as he was tall and dark Mr. Kino; and Mr.
Aaron, who sat apart from the others, dour as ever.

Something
else, though, other than the weather and the location made this particular
gathering of not-so-ordinary people even stranger.

Other
League members were here. Robert had never seen this at a Council meeting. Men
and women sat scattered across the bleachers. They appeared to be a normal
businessman, a Japanese schoolgirl, a starlet in sunglasses, a surfer, one overweight,
middle-aged Redskins fan, a librarian, a jogger sipping from her hydration
pack, and a little girl with pigtails.

They
all looked like regular people save for the one thing Robert had come to expect
when dealing with the Immortals. They held themselves in a way that went beyond
confidence or cool. It was as if they were always looking down at you, no
matter where they were or even if they weren’t looking at you at all.

This
Council meeting had to be pretty important to interest the League at large. And
it gave Robert a bad feeling to be singled out, sitting alone on the floor in
this chair.

Mr.
Mimes did have his back, didn’t he?

Robert
tried to catch his eye, look for some subtle reassuring gesture that it’d be
okay. He knew Mr. Mimes liked him. Robert liked him, too, as

much
as he could given what he was. He’d almost begun to think of him as . . . well,
not a father figure, but maybe his uncle Henry.

Ms.
Audrey Post and Ms. Lucia Chase entered the court side by side. They sat next
to Dallas. Seeing these three great ladies together gave Robert a chill. It was
as if something in the universe had just clicked into place.

Mr.
Mimes dropped his basketball and let it roll away. “Rematch later?”

Gilbert
shook his head. “What would be the point?”

The
two men took their places on the lowest bench. Neither spared a glance at
Robert.

Lucia
rang her tiny silver bell. “This session of the League Council of Immortals is
called to order. All come to heed, petition, and be judged. Narro, audio,
perceptum. I assume everyone has read the report?”

There
were nods and murmurs of ascent.

“Unless
there are any objections,” she said, “we shall agree that the twins’ third
heroic trial was a success. Let us move on to the discussion of their lineage.”

Robert
didn’t get it. He thought Eliot and Fiona passed the trials and were now safe.
Wasn’t that the deal?

Now
that he thought more about it, though, it seemed weird that Eliot and Fiona had
to be tested by trial to figure out which family they belonged with. Why not
just do a DNA analysis? That would’ve resolved everything.

“I
judged them to be with us,” Aaron said, standing. “Fiona has the heart of a
noble warrior—her mother’s influence, no doubt.”

Audrey
Post arched one eyebrow.

“And
the Golden Apple,” Dallas chimed in. “Fiona took a bite. That should end any
debate. I mean, her mortal life ended when she did that, and her immortal life
started.”

Lucia
removed an apple from the folds of her green dress. Several tiny bites marked the
fruit’s skin. “I suppose it does.”

Audrey
looked at Mr. Mimes. “You expunged all evidence?”

“Of
course I did. Fingerprints, photographs, statements, and recordings—all removed
from Nellis Air Force Base and destroyed.”

“Then
the only outstanding issue,” Cornelius said, “would be the boy, Eliot.”

“That
fog,” Kino said. “None of us could have called such a thing. So full of evil.”

Aaron
glared at him. “The boy passed your three trials. Certainly that should count
in his favor.”

“I
remind you that the successful passing of our tests serves only to illuminate
their characters,” Lucia explained. “That is the only measure by which we shall
judge. An Infernal could’ve passed them as easily as an Immortal. It is how
they did so that interests us.”

“Another
loophole in our so-called rules,” Aaron growled.

Audrey
Post stood and faced him. “You are wrong. I know their blood better than any
here—that was never the issue. What they are will neither be determined by
genetics nor their upbringing. Eliot and Fiona will ultimately choose what they
will be.”

Robert
leaned forward. They got to decide which family they belonged with? Why hadn’t
anyone told them that in the first place?

Audrey
and Aaron stared at one another.

All
fell still and silent.

Looking
at them, Robert felt sick. It was like standing on a bridge and watching two
vast rivers crash into one another beneath him—vertigo-inducing and
awe-inspiring.

He
had no idea who Audrey Post was. He didn’t want to speculate about it too much,
either. Doing so, he knew, would only give him nightmares.

The
one they called Aaron he knew a little about. At various times throughout
history he had had other names: the Red Horseman of the Apocalypse, Ares
Enyalius, the Charioteer, Lancelot, and the King of the Sacred Grove.

Aaron
blinked and softly said, “Do you not love them, Audrey?”

“Love
no longer has a place in my heart. All that remains is my duty to protect them.”
Audrey looked away and slowly sank back to her seat. “Even if that means
sacrificing one to save the other.”

Robert
couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Sacrifice? Did she mean kill Fiona or
Eliot? That sounded medieval, but then again, some of these people were
medieval. He’d have to warn Fiona.

Mr.
Mimes cleared his throat. “With regards to the Post twins, I believe
clarification is coming via the Infernal temptations. There is one left.”

He
gestured to the larger-than-life video monitor over center court. It flickered
to life.

On
that was the photograph that Robert had taken in Franklin Park the other
day—Eliot and his girlfriend, Julie Marks. The telephoto lens had made it a bit
grainy, but otherwise it was a nice composition. Two kids with a crush on each
other having a picnic lunch. What could be more natural?

Only
Robert had done a little digging around. He had lifted the girl’s

prints
from Ringo’s and found that she had a record for petty theft and drug
possession—and a death certificate, dated 1981. Heroin overdose.

“The
Infernal seductress,” Mr. Mimes explained, “is also in my report. Eliot has
thus far avoided temptation, but these things traditionally come in threes.” He
held up three fingers for emphasis. “I propose we wait and see how they deal
with this last challenge.”

“It
would be valuable to collect more data,” Cornelius said.

“But
it would place the twins in more danger,” Lucia replied.

“It
would place us in danger,” Kino said.

“There
is always danger,” Gilbert told them. “What difference does it make? We should
decide their fate based on the existing evidence.”

“I
thought we were supposed to protect them from the other family?” Robert said.

He
sat frozen, utterly surprised. He hadn’t meant to . . . but he had whispered
this out loud.

He’d
been so engrossed in the Council’s debate over Eliot and Fiona that it felt
like a dream. He had forgotten the first rule of being a good Driver: keep your
mouth shut.