Banishing the Dark (Arcadia Bell #4)(63)

Lon’s jaw twitched. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Jupe’s long legs were folded up against his chest. He leaned hard against my shoulder, smelling faintly of coconut oil and chamomile, while Mr. Piggy sniffed his bare toes. I knew he was still worried that he was in trouble for sneaking around; considering Lon’s simmering, barely restrained anger and this latest confession about his knack, I was pretty sure a long grounding was in Jupe’s future.

But I personally wasn’t mad at the kid. Confused by what he’d learned from Mrs. Vega? Oh, yes. Very confused. Which was probably why I couldn’t stop holding his hand. I craved comfort, and he was the only thing between sanity and a whole lot of travel-weary, sloppy-ass tears.

“I made Mrs. Vega not want to tell anyone about our visit and what she told me and Leticia,” Jupe added.

“How did you meet this Leticia?” Lon asked. “She doesn’t go to school out here.”

Jupe’s groan was so low I felt it more than heard it. “She kind of, well, she goes to school in Morella. I sort of, kind of, met her . . . well, it doesn’t matter.”

God, he was the worst liar in the world. I forced myself not to laugh as I tried to put a face to the name. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Leticia Vega; I’d only ever talked to Grandmaster Vega on a handful of occasions. I never attended the Morella lodge as a member; I only went to them for help when I needed it. “She’s your age?” I asked.

A dreamy sort of daze breezed over Jupe’s features. “Uh-huh.”

Oh, boy. I’d seen that look before, whenever Jupe was in the same room with Kar Yee. “So she’s cute, huh?”

Slow grin.

“And she’s helping you, so she must like you.”

He teased, “I mean, who wouldn’t like all this?”

“I’m not liking you much right now,” Lon complained.

“But—”

“Don’t even bother,” Lon said. “You’ll be telling me whatever it is you’re lying about tomorrow when we sit down with the Holidays and get everything out in the open. Count yourself lucky we’ve got more important concerns at the moment.”

“When you say it like that, I don’t really feel all that lucky,” Jupe mumbled.

Lon snorted. “You and me both, son.”

Foxglove jumped onto the far end of the sofa and sneaked her way over to Lon’s lap, stretching her front paws over his thighs. He mindlessly scratched her behind her ear, let out a slow breath, and slunk lower on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Damn, he looked exhausted. All that driving today didn’t help. I’d checked his snakebite a couple of times when we stopped for gas or a restroom; it was still tender and a tiny bit swollen, but at least his skin didn’t feel numb anymore.

The way he was sprawled on the couch pulled his shirt tighter across his chest. I could just make out the bump from the ring hanging around his neck. I hadn’t asked him about it, but God, how I wanted to. I guess he must have heard this in my emotions, because he hassled me the entire ride up here about my memory problems.

But as he told Jupe, we had bigger concerns.

“My parents’ ‘winter home’ has to be the house in the woods,” I said to Lon.

“What house?” Jupe asked.

“None of your business,” Lon said.

“But I helped,” he insisted, his gaze swinging from Lon to me. “I know you’re both mad at me, but I did help. Right?”

Maybe it was the pitiful note in his voice or the earnest squeeze of his fingers around mine, but whatever it was, it turned me into a sucker. I slung my arm around his shoulder. “You helped,” I assured him, pulling him closer.

Lon slanted me a ticked-off look, but he needn’t have bothered. I could feel the agitation rolling off of him in waves. So I was babying Jupe. Big deal. He really did help, even if he had to sneak around to do it. And who could blame him? We—that is, I mean, Lon—ran off and left Jupe alone for a week. That was the same shit my parents pulled on me all the time. Especially during—

During the holidays.

Every Christmas. They left me every December and returned a month later in January. And all that time, they were here. Here! How was that even possible?

“Time for bed,” Lon said to Jupe.

“It’s only eleven, and I haven’t seen you both all week.”

Lon pushed off the sofa and headed toward the sliding doors. “Cady and I need to talk.”

“But I helped,” he protested. “I might be able to help some more.”

“Come here for a second.” Lon flipped on the outside lights and stepped onto the patio.

“Crap,” Jupe mumbled.

“Buck up,” I said. “It’ll be okay.”

He gave me a unnervingly grave look. “Will it?”

I stared into his bright green eyes, with all those dark, fanning lashes. His uncertainty and worry were almost palpable—almost something I could hear as clear as his voice—and it had nothing to do with whatever punishment he feared from his dad. He was scared for me. Me. And for us, and the future. And I wanted more than anything to assure him that he was worried for no reason, that everything was fine, and nothing ever went so horribly wrong that it couldn’t be fixed. That life was easy, and if you worked hard enough, you’d get everything you wanted. If you did right by others, they’d do right by you. That both humankind and demonkind were intrinsically good, and people you respected didn’t disappoint you, and no one would ever break your heart.