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Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 175 из 205You'vegot about four hours until dusk.”
I took a deep breath and staggered into the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and neck. I looked ghost-pale in the mirror. Had the dream been Jean-Claude's doing or Nikolaos's? If it had been Nikolaos, did she already control me? No answers. No answers to anything.
Edward was sitting in the white chair when I came back out. He watched me like I was an interesting species of insect that he had never seen before.
I ignored him and called Catherine's office. “Hi, Betty, this is Anita Blake. Is Catherine in?”
“Hello, Ms. Blake. I thought you knew that Ms. Maison is going to be out of town from the thirteenth until the twentieth on a deposition.”
Catherine had told me, but I forgot. I finally lucked out. It was about time. “I forgot, Betty. Thanks a lot. Thanks more than you'll ever know.”
“Glad to be of help. Ms. Maison has scheduled the first fitting for the bridesmaid dresses on the twenty-third.” She said it like it should make me feel better. It didn't.
“I won't forget. Bye.”
“Have a nice day.”
I hung up and phoned Irving Griswold. He was a reporter for the Saint Louis Post-Dispatch. He was also a werewolf. Irving the werewolf. It didn't quite work, but then what did? Charles the werewolf, naw. Justin, Oliver, Wilbur, Brent? Nope.
Irving answered on the third ring.
“It's Anita Blake.”
“Well, hi, what's up?” He sounded suspicious, as if I never called him unless I wanted something.
“Do you know any wererats?”
He was quiet for almost too long; then, “Why do you want to know?”
“I can't tell you.”
“You mean you want my help, but I don't get a story out of it.”
I sighed. “That's about it.”
“Then why should I help you?”
“Don't give me a hard time, Irving. I've given you plenty of exclusives. My information is what got you your first front page byline. So don't give me grief.”
“A little grouchy today, aren't you?”
“Do you know a wererat or don't you?”
“I do.”
“I need to get a message to the Rat King.”
He gave a low whistle that was piercing over the phone. “You don't ask for much, do you? I might be able to get you a meeting with the wererat I know, but not their king.”
“Give the Rat King this message; got a pencil?”
“Always,” he said.
“The vampires didn't get me, and I didn't do what they wanted.
I took a deep breath and staggered into the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and neck. I looked ghost-pale in the mirror. Had the dream been Jean-Claude's doing or Nikolaos's? If it had been Nikolaos, did she already control me? No answers. No answers to anything.
Edward was sitting in the white chair when I came back out. He watched me like I was an interesting species of insect that he had never seen before.
I ignored him and called Catherine's office. “Hi, Betty, this is Anita Blake. Is Catherine in?”
“Hello, Ms. Blake. I thought you knew that Ms. Maison is going to be out of town from the thirteenth until the twentieth on a deposition.”
Catherine had told me, but I forgot. I finally lucked out. It was about time. “I forgot, Betty. Thanks a lot. Thanks more than you'll ever know.”
“Glad to be of help. Ms. Maison has scheduled the first fitting for the bridesmaid dresses on the twenty-third.” She said it like it should make me feel better. It didn't.
“I won't forget. Bye.”
“Have a nice day.”
I hung up and phoned Irving Griswold. He was a reporter for the Saint Louis Post-Dispatch. He was also a werewolf. Irving the werewolf. It didn't quite work, but then what did? Charles the werewolf, naw. Justin, Oliver, Wilbur, Brent? Nope.
Irving answered on the third ring.
“It's Anita Blake.”
“Well, hi, what's up?” He sounded suspicious, as if I never called him unless I wanted something.
“Do you know any wererats?”
He was quiet for almost too long; then, “Why do you want to know?”
“I can't tell you.”
“You mean you want my help, but I don't get a story out of it.”
I sighed. “That's about it.”
“Then why should I help you?”
“Don't give me a hard time, Irving. I've given you plenty of exclusives. My information is what got you your first front page byline. So don't give me grief.”
“A little grouchy today, aren't you?”
“Do you know a wererat or don't you?”
“I do.”
“I need to get a message to the Rat King.”
He gave a low whistle that was piercing over the phone. “You don't ask for much, do you? I might be able to get you a meeting with the wererat I know, but not their king.”
“Give the Rat King this message; got a pencil?”
“Always,” he said.
“The vampires didn't get me, and I didn't do what they wanted.