Long time no update, what? Oh well. This is a long one, so hopefully it will make up for it. It's also a boring one, but we'll ignore that. Assume that the next few chapters are going to be like this one. I gotta establish relationships now so it doesn't take away from the coolness that will come later. So, here it is. And I cannot thank you guys enough for reviewing. Really, I would have stopped a long time ago had I not had them. So yes, I am becoming a bit of a review whore, but I love them so much! Anywho, I am already well into the next chapter, as I know exactly what I want to have in that one, so expect a quick update. Please, review! I love it so much! And I do need some feedback on how the pacing is. And on the character dynamic. SO if you wouldn't mind too terribly, let me know what you think of it. Ok, enough rambling. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Scarlet Pimpernel. Or Chauvelin. Or Andre, he belongs to Emily / Night Shadow 131. But I do own Lucian. Back off.
Soon the Moon Will Smoulder
Chapter 4: The Roots Of Evil
Lucian quickly strode down the hall, peering into each room as he passed them. He needed to find his mother; the lovely woman had quite a bit of explaining to do, and Lucian was more then willing to draw what he needed from her, and if need be, he would have little difficulty using a considerable amount of force. This was something he needed to hear about, without all of the lies and deception; it was time they came clean.
His hurried stride stopped instantly as he heard a multitude of voices coming from the main hall and he quickly became more irritated then he was previously. No doubt Percy had invited everyone he knew for another pointless visit. Breathing deeply and tensing considerably, Lucian trudged into the room and, lo and behold, found himself looking at a mess of Blakeney, Dewhurst, Ffoulkes and St. Just families. Sneering in distaste, he quickly turned around and sped out of the room, but stopped instantly with what he considered to be a brilliant idea. A slight, cruel smile played over the boy's face as he slowly made his way back into the room to make his presence known.
"Lud, speak of the devil! Demned clever boy, what? Almost as if he can read the mind, that son of mine," Sir Percy drawled in his lazy, foppish tone. Lucian glared coldly at Percy before bowing respectfully toward the adults in the room. "Sink me, boy! You are a perfect wreck! What happened to you?"
"All in good time, Lord Blakeney," the golden-eyed boy said quietly before turning his attention to Tony. "Lord Dewhurst. May I have your permission to speak to your daughters?"
"Of course," Tony said slowly, slightly taken aback by the boy's need to ask permission for such. What a strange boy.
"Thank you," Lucian said quietly before he went to fraternize with the Dewhurst twins, who were shamelessly flirting with a very flustered Gilles in the far corner of the room. "Good afternoon, ladies," Lucian said smoothly, smiling at the two girls who clung to his cousin.
Tacey and Tambre stared at the golden boy in shock; in all their lives, the beautiful boy had never spoken to them, lest to tell them to leave him alone. "Hello, Lucian," Tambre said softly, as though she did not believe that the eldest Blakeney son was actually speaking to her.
"I trust you beautiful young women are well," he said softly, gently taking the two girls' hands and gallantly kissing them. "Forgive me for interrupting your activities, but would you be willing to tear yourselves away from my so fortunate cousin and come on a walk with me?"
The twins looked in shock at the confident boy before them, but they both took his proffered arms. "Enchante, mademoiselles," the boy said softly, gently kissing their cheeks as he began to lead them away.
"What are you doing, Lucian?" Gilles cried after his cousin. The boy must have gone mad to voluntarily spend time alone with the flirtatious girls.
Lucian slowly stopped. How to turn this minor interruption to his advantage… "What, cousin?" Lucian asked innocently. "Are you upset at the departure of these ladies? I was under the impression that I was saving you by removing them from your presence."
"Really?"
"Of course, Gilles. Consider it a favor. You may repay me later." With that,Lucian turned and led the two young women away, leaving a thoroughly confused St. Just behind them.
The three walked in silence out to the gardens, the two girls leaning their heads against Lucian's shoulders, content just to be in the boy's company. "Now, ladies, I have a matter which I would like to speak to you two about, if you do not mind too terribly," Lucian said sweetly, breaking the silence as he wrapped his arms about the girls' slender waists and led them to a stone bench within the gardens.
"What is it, Lucian?" Tacey asked as she and her sister sat down and watched the beautiful boy stand before them, hands clenched tightly behind his back.
"Girls, have you heard anything of the Agent Chauvelin?"
"What, the saint?" Tacey asked playfully, laughter in her voice.
"The very same."
"Well, he's French," Tambre said indifferently, shrugging her shoulders. She finally had a chance to spend time with England's pretty boy, and he wanted to speak about dead people. Wonderful.
"Truth of the matter is we don't know much about him," Tacey said quietly, slightly apologetically.
"We're not really all that interested in the man. We generally stop listening when people begin talking about dead men," Tambre said in a bored tone as she lazily twirled a strand of light brown hair around her finger.
When the girl did not continue to speak and list the names as he wanted her to, Lucian became excessively angry and fixed a death grip on the suddenly frightened Tambre's upper arms. "Who talks of him?" Lucian said in a dangerously quite voice.
"I…I don't know. Everyone speaks about the martyr," Tambre stuttered, trembling in fear as she was forced to look into the boy's cruel, pale yellow eyes.
"Names, idiot!" Lucian shouted, losing any previous composure that he was implementing previously. "I want names!"
"Lucian, you…" Tacey stuttered in defense of her sister, but was silenced instantly by a vicious, falcon like glare.
"Lord Andrew and Lady Suzanne talk about him quite a lot. And my father! My father talks and tells stories as if he had met him!" Tambre said quickly in hopes of calming the enraged boy.
Lucian's mind temporarily ceased to function and quickly covered the shocked Tambre's face with kisses. "Oh, you brilliant woman!" the golden eyed boy moaned as he pulled away from the delighted girl and knelt before the girls, taking their hands in his own. "My beloved girls," Lucian sighed as he passionately kissed the girls' hands, "where have you been all my life?"
"Lucian," Tacey said quietly, blushing softly as she ran a hand through her hair, "does this mean that you…perhaps…like us?"
"Like you?" The child stared in mild shock at the blushing girl before he abandoned her sister's hand and left a trail of swift kisses up her arm, pausing at the pit of her neck. "Nay, madame, I am passionately in love with you girls." Lucian looked up at the furiously blushing and enamored girls and carefully weighed his next words. "Mademoiselles," he said quietly, softly kissing both of the delicate hands, "I need you girls to do me a favor of the utmost importance."
"Anything, Lucian," the girls said simultaneously, both breathing quickly and looking in hopeless adoration into his golden eyes.
"Tacey. Tambre. I need you two to find out all you can about the Agent Chauvelin for me. You say that your father acts like he knew him. Ask him. Pick his brain for anything pertaining to this man; looks, behavior, actions, anything. I beseech you, darlings, do this for me and I will be sure to secure for you anything your hearts desire."
"Do you mean it, Lucian?" Tacey asked excitedly, placing a death grip on the young man's hand.
"Absolutely, madame."
"Why do you want to know about Chauvelin, Lucian?" Tambre asked quietly, but quickly recoiled as a shadow fell over the boy's face and he suddenly seemed extremely sinister.
"That is my own business." Letting go of the twins' hands, Lucian stood up, gently brushing himself off. "Girls, this matter is strictly confidential, do you understand? No one, not your mother, your brother, your father, no one is to know what we are doing."
Tambre looked suspiciously at the suddenly impassive boy. "And what if we tell?"
Chuckling softly, Lucian leaned closer to the defiant and slightly frightened girl. "My dear, I am giving you a choice. You can agree to help me and keep this quiet and I shall reward you with anything you wish. I can put you on the highest throne of luxury and adoration, make you the envy of all of England. Or," he said quietly, his voice growing softer and all the more dangerous as he drew closer to the petrified girl, "you can speak to another about this matter, and I will make your life a living Hell. Every day, you will walk about and peer over your shoulder, look around every corner and behind every object in hopes of anticipating and avoiding whatever new horror I choose to set upon you. You will fear to be alone for the chance that I find you devoid of the protection of others. You will be afraid of sleeping for the threat of being assaulted when you are most helpless. You will jump at every shadow, cringe at every sound, shriek at every movement you catch out of the corner of your eye. Your life will be a nightmare, ma cherie, and you will not last. Before I am done with you, you will come to me on your knees, begging for death, pleading for me to end the torment. You make the choice. I will have your silence, mademoiselle, no matter the method."
Smiling sweetly, Lucian slowly ran his finger over the trembling Tambre's cheek. "Do we have a deal, ma amoure?"
"Yes, Lucian"
"Good girl." His keen gold eyes fell on Tacey and locked with her deep blue ones, causing her to shiver. "And you?"
"All we need to do is find all we can about the Saint Chauvelin?" Tacey asked cautiously, unwilling to incur the boy's wrath as her sister had.
"Precisely, madame."
"I can do that."
"Thank you, girls. I cannot begin to say what a service you are doing for me."
"Tacey! Tambre! We must make haste home!" Lord Dewhurst shouted from the manor.
"We must go, Lucian," Tacey said politely as she took her sister's arm. "We shall do all we can to discover what you desire."
"I thank you from the depths of my soul, girls, and I eagerly await the next time I may have the pleasure of seeing you," Lucian said smoothly, kissing their hands. "And girls!" he called as they began to leave. "Remember," he said, putting his finger to his lips, "it's a secret." Nodding quickly, the two girls left Lucian alone in the garden.
Sitting down on the bench, the boy buried his head in his hands, gently rocking back and forth. "I am the son of a saint." Not that this was a bad thing. He was simply attempting to come to terms with the idea. Though he would never admit it, the very foundations of Lucian's world had been disturbed and the boy was shaken.
Laughing slightly, he realized that he had grossly misjudged the Dewhurst twins. Only one of them was an idiot. Tacey could be easily manipulated, but Tambre was another matter. The girl was intelligent, and she questioned authority. Just his luck to have such an unfortunate personality in his service; thank God there were two of them. Because she was smart, Lucian only had a limited time to act and use Tambre to his advantage; that intellect of hers would have to be disposed of before she became a problem to the plan he was beginning to develop. He may have to make good on those threats after all.
Looking back on that incident, the boy shuddered. He was known to be cold and apt to make threats he could and would carry out if he wanted something badly enough, but what he did to poor Tambre was simply awful and quite unlike him, and quite frankly, Lucian was terrified that he was so capable of such behavior. Where had that come from? Lucian shook his head to clear his mind of such thoughts; he would have to keep that side of him in check, that was all. Nothing to worry about.
Andrew and Suzanne. The girls had mentioned them. What was the best way to get to them? Their son Ellison was out of the question. The young Lord Ffoulkes was growing up quite quickly, becoming a strapping model of chivalry and honesty, a paragon of virtue. And he had an intense dislike for Marguerite's eldest son, an inherent distrust of the smooth talking boy. No, he was to be avoided at all costs; the young lord had an incessantly annoying habit of prying in to Lucian's affairs, seemingly trying to discover viable evidence with which he could destroy the amorous attitude toward the venerable snake, the very illusions that Lucian had worked so hard to create.
However, Ellison's sister was another matter entirely. While the twins Tacey and Tambre had a minor infatuation with him, and any other creature devoid of female anatomy, for that matter, Allison Ffoulkes was genuinely in love with him. It was Lucian's natural inclination to put as much distance between himself and the love struck girl as possible, for everything about the emotion set the boy's nerves on edge. It was not the attention that, quite frankly, frightened him; he was used to such attention. It was the intensity that made him uneasy. He didn't understand it. There was no logic, no foundation; the entire feeling was reasonless and inexplicable. The unwavering loyalty, the mindless devotion…
Lucian's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Why had he not seen it before? The entire concept of love was suddenly cast in a new light and became less of something to be avoided and more of a tool. What better implement of manipulation existed? Yes, young Allison suddenly became a valuable entity, an irreplaceable implement to Lucian's purpose; she would get him anything he asked without question.
"What are you doing, cousin?"
Though the voice was quiet, hardly audible, it tore Lucian from his thoughts and the boy, shocked beyond all belief at the sudden disembodied voice behind him, took off running at full speed in the opposite direction and did not stop until he was several hundred feet away.
Now at a safe distance, Lucian quickly turned around and faced the perpetrator who dared infringe on his solitude, finding none other then Gilles St. Just, idiot cousin and general damned nuisance. Snapping off a thin branch from a nearby tree, Lucian was off at full sprint again, this time toward his wide-eyed cousin.
"Lucian, what are you…"
"I'm going to kill you, you insignificant worm!"
Gilles had little time to react for no more then a second later, the golden child had tackled him to the ground, the branch hooked under Gilles' chin. "Gilles St. Just, you are a dead man. I am going to kill you. And when I finish that, I am going to cut you in to pieces and send a piece of you via post to every lord in England and France as a warning to those who dare invade my personal space."
"Lucian! Can't…breathe…"
Rolling his eyes, Lucian got off of the struggling boy and listlessly dropped the stick upon his cousin. Sitting upon the bench once again, he put his head in his hands in sheer agitation. "What do you want, Gilles?"
Gripping his head and rubbing his lower back, the young St. Just slowly stood up and sat beside his cousin. "I…I just wanted to thank you for ridding me of those girls. They are quite clingy and I do not know how you could bear their company for more then twenty seconds."
"Think nothing of it." Pausing slightly, he quickly added, "Me thinks the stupid one likes you."
"What? Which one?" Gilles asked, clearly befuddled. Both girls seemed excessively stupid.
Lucian laughed harshly. "Oh, dear cousin, you are just like your father," he said sharply, lightly tapping Gilles on the side of the head, "devoid of any brains." Patting the confused boy on the leg, Lucian stood up and turned to leave his cousin.
"Lucian, wait!" Gilles called, jumping up from the bench and standing beside the slightly frustrated and ragged boy. "You said I could repay you for taking them away from me. What do you want?"
That effectively managed to catch his attention. Of course he had not forgotten about that, he just did not yet have the time to think of how his more then inept cousin could be of use to him. Yet when would be the next time that he and Gilles would be alone together? Both boys made a point of avoiding each other, both for the reason that Lucian hated the young St. Just. And meetings such as these had an affinity for attracting unwanted and frequent interruptions. No, this matter needed to be dealt with now while he had the chance and before Gilles forgot.
Seating himself on the gravel pathway, Lucian quietly said, "Go fetch paper and a pen," and Gilles was off. Perfect. He needed time to assess the boy and find where his cousin would fit into the plan that was formulating in his mind. What assets did his cousin possess that neither the Dewhurst twins nor Allison have access to? Gilles could go to France anytime he liked, that was important, but he could not simply request to accompany them on their next trip; his mother would never permit it. And he could not ask anything too complicated of his cousin; Lucian's little faith in the boy prevented him from putting much stock in his ability to carry out anything more difficult then writing his own name.
The idea hit him as soon as his pale yellow eyes fell on Gilles quickly running to him with the requested items. "When is your next excursion to France, Gilles?" Lucian asked quietly as the out of breath youth approached.
"We planned for one in a month's time. Why?"
"If I give you a list of things I wish for you to do in France, can you swear you will not lose it?"
"Of course!"
"And can you promise that you will keep the dealings between you and I a secret form everyone?"
"I swear upon the honor of my family name, Lucian."
Lucian smiled slightly. "I take you for a fool, Gilles, but you are a loyal one. I like that." He paused for a moment and organized his thoughts. "Take this down," he said sternly as he motioned for his cousin to sit in front of him, waiting patiently as Gilled fumbled with the pen and paper.
"I am going to give you a list of names and the occupations of the mentioned people, all of who are French. On your next excursion to France, I want you to find the residence and work place of each person and take down the addresses. Do you understand?"
Gilles nodded vigorously. "Give me the names, Lucian."
"The first are soldiers by the names of Mercier and Coupeau. They are officers in Napoleon's army." He stopped for a moment, patiently waiting for Gilles to scribble down the information. "I do not have anything else on these two, but if I learn anything else, you will be the first to know."
"I do not think that is necessary, Lucian," Gilles said quietly as he scanned his notes. "I think this is enough."
"Very well. I also want you to find a man by the name of Andre Madeline. He is a lawyer."
"Got it. Is that all?"
"Yes." Lucian quickly got off the ground, brushed himself off, and offered his hand to his cousin. "Thank you, Gilles. I fear I have grossly misjudged your character."
Gilles smiled slightly. "That is quite alright, Lucian."
"Come. Let us get back inside."
The moment the two boys entered the manor, Lucian bid a quick goodbye to his cousin and went off in search of young Allison Ffoulkes. He found the pretty thing sitting at a window in a large, empty room. Perfect. Treading as softly as he could, he came to stand behind the girl and gently ran his fingers over her shoulder, causing the girl to jump, stiffen, and quickly turn around to meet those golden eyes.
Allison instantly felt her face flush and her heart quicken; she suddenly could not remember how to speak and forgot to breathe.
"Good afternoon, mademoiselle Ffoulkes."
"Good afternoon, Lord Blakeney."
"May I sit with you, mademoiselle?"
Allison was having a hard enough time speaking as it was, and could only manage a dazed nod in response. Lucian sat on the windowsill opposite the girl and gazed blankly out into the garden.
"Beautiful, is it not?" Lucian said softly after a long silence between the two. "My mother says it reminds her of Paris. I myself have never been there, but I will take my mother's word for it. It must be a marvelous city." He finally turned away from the window and looked into Allison's light blue eyes. "Have you ever been to France, Allison?"
"No, Lucian," she said quietly, trying to tear her eyes away from those piercing golden ones, but failing miserably. "My mother says that France is dangerous right now."
"Lady Suzanne is quite right," Lucian said quietly, crossing his arms and leaning against the window. "Your mother is a smart woman. Now, correct me if I am mistaken, but she is of the French aristocracy, correct?"
"Yes." Allison slowly began to relax as the boy spoke to her; his voice was very smooth and soothing, extremely conducive to putting people at ease. "Mother had to leave during the revolution and she has not been back since. Father says that she was saved from the Guillotine by the Scarlet Pimpernel himself."
"Really? That is interesting. If that is in face the case, then I take it that she must have had some dealings with the Agent Chauvelin, correct?"
"Yes. Mother has met the man, and has been terrified of him ever since. I have heard people say that he was the one responsible for crippling my father. Mother says he was evil, Lucian."
"One man's demon is another man's saint, madame," Lucian said coldly, causing the girl to shiver slightly. "It seems as though you know quite a bit about the man."
"I really am quite ignorant. Mother does not like to hear or speak of him."
"I see. If you asked your parents about the saint, would they tell you what you asked?"
"Yes, I suppose. They encourage curiosity, so I do not see why not."
Lucian smiled sweetly and gently took the blushing girl's hand. "Allison, I must ask you a favor. My mother and father have been very careful to prevent me from learning anything about the man, and it has become very difficult for me to continue holding my head high in society when I am ignorant of England's biggest conversation topic. I need you to learn all you can about Chauvelin and tell me everything you can. You are my saving face in society. Will you do this for me?"
"Of course, Lucian," Allison said softly, nearly mechanically; the young girl had lost herself within the boy once again.
"And you will tell no one?"
"Never."
Smiling tenderly, he softly planted a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, Allison," thesuavechildsaid softly as he stood and slowly walked away from the furiously blushing girl.
"Lucian!" Allison called, quickly jumping up from her perch at the window and rushing to the boy's side. "I…"
Lucian looked at the stuttering girl and lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes; he had an idea of where this was going, and he most definitely did not want her saying anything for fear that he may lose nerve and panic.
"Lucian, I…I…"
"Hush." The yellow-eyed boy put his finger to her lips and watched in amusement as the girl shivered, blushed, and began breathing much faster. Slowly moving his hand to shelter her cheek, Lucian pulled her closer, inclining his head toward hers, pausing only for a moment as he gathered his resolve and pressed his lips against Allison's.
Young Allison stiffened and nearly recoiled; her British upbringing screamed that this was most improper for a lady and hardly decent in any case, yet the girl did not pull away. A warm, tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach spread throughout her body and she unconsciously moved closer; in that instant, she knew with her entire being that she andLucian belonged together, for being with him like this felt so right. She felt herself falling, but did little to stop it, and Allison Ffoulkes was lost from that moment on; this boy and nothing more mattered.
With a whimpered protest form Allison, Lucian quickly pulled away from the girl and looked down in to her clear blue eyes filled with admiration and worship for the boy that held her; the foolish girl was clearly oblivious to everything, including the cold, hard gaze that Lucian's pale yellow eyes possessed. Quickly releasing her, Lucian turned and left the room, leaving young Allison in a state of perfect bliss.
After a few minutes of pondering in silence, Lucian had come to the conclusion that he did not understand women. Despite how good he was at verbal persuasion, it seemed as though these girls reacted much quickly and more favorably to physical affection. Lucian shivered; figures that the people he needed most would be most receptive to physical contact, an aspect that the boy quite despised and avoided at all costs.
Not to mention that Lucian knew very little about the amorous inclinations that were beginning to become prominent among people his age. He needed to learn, to become as good at this game as he had become with verbal means of persuasion; after all, the art of seduction was just as effective, if not more so, then any other power he possessed. Seek out a teacher, learn everything, and use it; that would give him something to do while his informants were gathering what he had sent them to discover.
Resolved in his course of action, Lucian stood tall and walked at his normal pace, but was stopped soon after as he ran in to no other then the cold eyed Ellison Ffoulkes. The two boys stood there in silence, glaring at each other viciously, and while there was not a shadow of doubt that Lucian was more intimidating, the proud Ellison did not back down; he had no fear of the falcon-eyed boy. Nodding slightly, Ellison managed a forced, "Lord Blakeney."
Lucian hissed slightly as he drew in a quick, angry breath, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Never again refer to me by that name, Lord Ffoulkes."
"What? Unwilling to be associated with the good name of your father, fiend?"
"Exactly that."
"What have you been doing to my sister?"
"What?" Lucian was officially confused; Ellison had been nowhere in sight when he was enticing Allison into his service. How had the pest known about that?
"I saw you leave the room my sister is in, and you do nothing without reason."
"Why, my dear Ellison!" Lucian cried in a grim parody of Percy's foppish tone. "I was merely corrupting the pretty young innocent. Is this such a crime?"
"What are you up to, Lucian?" Ellison asked coldly; he knew this boy too well to not think that the cunning snake was up to something.
Lucian dropped the act and became deadly serious. Ellison had an impeccable sense of morality, and thus he intensely distrusted the bastard son of Marguerite; the boy seemed to pick up that something was off with the golden boy, but could not place exactly what. Yet Lucian would have been content with this had Ellison possessed some fear of him. Of course, the young Lord Ffoulkes was hardly moved by anything Lucian said or did, but fortunately, there were none who listened to Ellison's cries of infamy against Chauvelin's son. Of course, he did nothing out in the open to affirm Ellison's accusations; to England, Lucian was flawless, perfect, and could do no wrong. Ellison was powerless against the golden child. No, it was more then safe, perhaps even beneficial to his cause, to tell Ellison nearly everything.
Grinning maliciously, he asked in a hushed tone, "Do you really want to know what I am up to, Ellison?"
Ellison felt something drop in the pit of his stomach; there was something sinister about the boy that had not been there before, but the young lord nodded anyway.
"Very well, Ellison. I have employed the Dewhurst twins, my cousin, and your own lovely sister into my service. They will do whatever I tell them without question, I have assured that already."
"Good God…"
"Hold, you worthless imbecile, I am not through yet. They will bring me information regarding the Saint Chauvelin, who is my real father."
"What?" Ellison asked weakly. He would have loved to think that the boy was mad, but he knew instantly that Lucian was deadly honest.
"You know I am not lying, don't you Ellison? Then you know I am honest when I say that you will never mention this to anyone for fear of ruining my mother and Lord Blakeney, correct?"
Ellison said nothing, but he did shiver as he came to the realization that Lucian was absolutely correct, and the golden boy laughed wickedly as the young Ffoulkes showed visible signs of his accurate observations. Placing a hand on the shocked lord's chest, Lucian pushed Ellison against the wall and brought his face close to his; the boy had long ago discovered that quiet was more intimidating, more dangerous, and more effective and forceful then a raised voice.
"After I learn all I can," he said softly in the now trembling lord's ear, "I will be off to France, where I will be untouchable by you English dim-wits and celebrated in France as the son of their beloved saint and martyr. I will be free to engage in my plans for the revenge for the murder of my father. I will find the Pimpernel, and I will kill him as he killed my father. The aristocrats that eluded him because of the Pimpernel will be exterminated as well." He paused a moment, relishing in the moment as he leaned even closer to the lord's ear and whispered, "That means your mother," and grinned maliciously as the color drained out of Ellison's face. "And I must exact a personal vendetta against the Lord Blakeney as well. Any questions, you pitiful excuse for a human?"
Ellison looked into thosepale yelloweyes and saw and underlying rage and fierce determination that quite frightened him; Lucian was completely honest, and there was no doubt that he would follow through. "You would kill?" the boy asked, though he knew full well the answer.
"Would, Ellison? You know damn well I will," he said quietly as he released the shocked and frightened boy.
"You treacherous snake!"
"What of it? There is nothing you can do. By all means, tell your father, warn all of England that their precious hero is in danger. You know they will not believe you. They will laugh, put it off as a mere child's game, and then move on with their ignorant, vapid lives. Warn them, Ellison. That way, when I finally make my move, they will realize that the child they disregarded all of those years before was correct. They will scramble to stop me, but by then it will be too late. They will turn to you for guidance, make you a hero, and Ellison, I will be forced to kill you."
Smiling evilly, Lucian patted the ghostly white lord on the cheek. "Tell them, Ellison," Lucian said softly as he went to find his mother, leaving a shivering Ellison alone in the hall.