Battle of the Beasts. Ned VizziniЧитать онлайн книгу.
1906! He must be magically preserved.
“Hey! Ancient guy!” Eleanor said. “If you get me out of here, my dad can recommend a really good surgeon for your hip or whatever—”
“Quiet,” snapped Hayes.
Kristoff said, “I apologise if I’ve caused trouble. I’m forever in your debt. But I will remind you that over a century ago, I made a great sacrifice for this club.”
“And what was that?”
“I discovered the hidden powers of The Book of Doom and Desire,” said Kristoff. “And did I keep them to myself? No. I hid the book away in my own work to keep it from threatening the world.”
“Which is why I welcomed you back,” Hayes said. “But my generosity only goes so far—”
“I need to find Cordelia Walker,” Kristoff said, cutting him off. “I cannot waste time. I’m certain that Cordelia knows where my daughter is.”
“Your daughter is dead,” said Hayes. “The Walkers got rid of her.”
“I thought she was gone too,” said Kristoff, “but not any more.”
“And why not?”
“Because I’ve been keeping tabs on the Walkers.”
“What?”
“Following them to school, getting reports from Angel—”
“You’ve been going out in public? Are you insane?”
“Listen to me,” said Kristoff. “I’ve learned that the Walkers didn’t precisely kill Dahlia. This child banished her.”
“To where, exactly?” asked Hayes, turning to Eleanor.
“I dunno,” said Eleanor. “I just said ‘the worst place ever’. I didn’t exactly have time to think clearly on account of trying not to get killed an’ all!”
“So we really have no idea where your daughter is,” said Hayes.
“No,” said Kristoff. “But I think the answer may start with Cordelia Walker. I couldn’t find her, so I took Eleanor instead. These children are like wild dogs: They operate in packs. It’s only a matter of time before Cordelia shows up. And when she does, I believe she will lead me to Dahlia.”
“That all sounds very logical, except for one thing,” said Hayes.
“What’s that?”
“Why would you even want to find your daughter? The last time she saw you, she tried to kill you!”
“Ah, but you don’t understand daughters,” said Kristoff. “One moment they despise you, the next they love you.”
That’s actually true, Brendan wrote to Will.
“This has gone on long enough,” Hayes said. He stepped closer to Kristoff, slinking under him and looking up like a snake. “Do you understand the enormous historical significance of this organisation? The Bohemian Club has shaped the world! We have chosen presidents! We have influenced world politics! And we thrive on one thing … secrecy. But you have broken the rules by kidnapping a child and bringing her here!!”
Hayes cracked his cane on Kristoff’s foot.
“I’m sorry. I just want to see Dahlia … I just want to get my daughter back,” said Kristoff. His voice hitched.
Brendan felt something unspool in his chest. He couldn’t believe it, but he suddenly understood the man. Kristoff was trying to do the same thing his mom was: keep a family together.
Eleanor had no such sympathies: “Hey, waffle face, if you want a family so much, join a zombie dating service! I want to go home!”
“You will, little girl, soon enough,” Hayes said, turning to Angel. “You!”
Angel looked up from under the table.
“Leave this place and never tell anyone about what you saw.”
“But what am I supposed to do?” complained Angel, climbing out. “I quit my old job to work for Mr Kristoff. How am I supposed to get a new one?”
“Start over,” said Hayes.
“I’m too old to start over,” said Angel.
Hayes answered by unscrewing the top of his cane. Brendan was sure he was going to draw out a sword and skewer Angel with it, but instead he pulled out a tightly rolled piece of paper. A spell scroll, Brendan thought. Hayes declared, “Famulus famuli mei, transfigura!”
An explosion of smoke obscured Angel’s body. For a moment Brendan thought Hayes had made him disappear. But when the smoke cleared, and the driver stepped out …
He was seventeen years old!
Angel looked like a million bucks. He was tall and muscular, without any of the padding he’d picked up driving limos.
“You’re a senior in high school again. You have a second chance to make something of yourself. Study, find a nice girl, and play some baseball,” Hayes said, unlocking one of the doors.
Angel wasted no time hustling out, grinning as he took a selfie with his phone.
“You should have killed him,” said Kristoff.
“That’s where you and I differ,” said Hayes. “You’d resort to violence to keep Angel quiet. I give him hope, a new life, and he’ll still keep quiet.”
“My methods are more secure,” said Kristoff.
“Your methods are more emotional,” Hayes said, “and clearly you won’t listen to reason.” He began to pace in a circle. “So perhaps you’ll listen to proof.”
“Excuse me?”
“What if I could contact your daughter’s spirit?” Hayes looked up. Brendan followed his eyes to the portraits that hung over the room, featuring the old Bohemian Club members. “What if I used the help of our brothers to summon her soul, and communicate with it? Then would you believe she was well and truly gone?”
Kristoff stammered … as Hayes started lighting candles.
“I don’t want you to do a séance, please,” Eleanor begged. She was getting very frightened as the crouched, make-up-caked Aldrich Hayes placed a wooden board on the long table in the Bohemian Club’s great hall. The table was lit up with candles like a birthday cake. Eleanor was holding still, her shoulder in the grip of Denver Kristoff’s big hand, but now she was getting way too scared to be here. If Hayes were really going to do a séance, that meant ghosts and spirits, and Eleanor wasn’t sticking around for that. Luckily, by not moving for so long, she had made Denver Kristoff relax his grip, and with Hayes tending to the table, she broke free!
Eleanor ran towards the doorway that Angel had just walked out of. Kristoff called angrily after her, but she didn’t turn around – and then she heard Hayes’s voice, calm: “Wait, little one. You’ll be needing some money.”
Eleanor stopped, turned back. Did I hear that right?
Apparently she did. Because Hayes was holding out a hundred-dollar bill.
“I want you to get a taxi, go back to your parents, and never tell anyone about being here. And keep the change. Understand?”
“You’re letting me go?”
“Mr Kristoff was wrong to bring you here.”
Eleanor