JК
Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 46 из 205I would very much like to get the show over with, and get down to business.”
“I am beginning to see why Aubrey lost his temper.” Her voice was dry, humorless. The lilting sing-song was dripping away like melting ice.
“Do you know how old I am?”
I stared at her and shook my head.
“I thought you said she was good, Jean-Claude.” She said his name like she was angry with him.
“She is good.”
“Tell me how old I am.” Her voice was cold, an angry grownup's voice.
“I can't. I don't know why, but I can't.”
“How old is Theresa?”
I stared at the dark-haired vampire, remembering the weight of her in my mind. She was laughing at me. “A hundred, maybe hundred and fifty, no more.”
Her face was unreadable, carved marble, as she asked, “Why, no more?”
“That's how old she feels.”
“Feels?”
“In my head, she feels a certain … degree of power.” I always hated to explain this part aloud. It always sounded mystical. It wasn't. I knew vampires the way some people knew horses, or cars. It was a knack. It was practice. I didn't think Nikolaos would enjoy being compared to a horse, or car, so I kept my mouth shut. See, not stupid after all.
“Look at me, human. Look into my eyes.” Her voice was still bland, with none of that commanding power that Jean-Claude had.
Geez, look into my eyes. You'd think the city's master vampire could be more original. But I didn't say it out loud. Her eyes were blue, or grey, or both. Her gaze was like a weight pressing against my skin. If I put my hands up, I almost expected to be able to push something away. I had never felt any vampire's gaze like that.
But I could meet her eyes. Somehow, I knew that wasn't supposed to happen.
The soldier standing to her right was looking at me, as if I'd finally done something interesting.
Nikolaos stood. She moved a little in front of her entourage. She would only come to my collarbone, which made her short. She stood there for a moment, looking ethereal and lovely like a painting. No sense of life but a thing of lovely lines and careful color.
She stood there without moving and opened her mind to me. It felt like she had opened a door that had been locked. Her mind crashed against mine, and I staggered. Thoughts ripped into me like knives, steel-edged dreams. Fleeting bits of her mind danced in my head; where they touched I was numbed, hurt.
I was on my knees, and I didn't remember falling. I was cold, so cold. There was nothing for me.
“I am beginning to see why Aubrey lost his temper.” Her voice was dry, humorless. The lilting sing-song was dripping away like melting ice.
“Do you know how old I am?”
I stared at her and shook my head.
“I thought you said she was good, Jean-Claude.” She said his name like she was angry with him.
“She is good.”
“Tell me how old I am.” Her voice was cold, an angry grownup's voice.
“I can't. I don't know why, but I can't.”
“How old is Theresa?”
I stared at the dark-haired vampire, remembering the weight of her in my mind. She was laughing at me. “A hundred, maybe hundred and fifty, no more.”
Her face was unreadable, carved marble, as she asked, “Why, no more?”
“That's how old she feels.”
“Feels?”
“In my head, she feels a certain … degree of power.” I always hated to explain this part aloud. It always sounded mystical. It wasn't. I knew vampires the way some people knew horses, or cars. It was a knack. It was practice. I didn't think Nikolaos would enjoy being compared to a horse, or car, so I kept my mouth shut. See, not stupid after all.
“Look at me, human. Look into my eyes.” Her voice was still bland, with none of that commanding power that Jean-Claude had.
Geez, look into my eyes. You'd think the city's master vampire could be more original. But I didn't say it out loud. Her eyes were blue, or grey, or both. Her gaze was like a weight pressing against my skin. If I put my hands up, I almost expected to be able to push something away. I had never felt any vampire's gaze like that.
But I could meet her eyes. Somehow, I knew that wasn't supposed to happen.
The soldier standing to her right was looking at me, as if I'd finally done something interesting.
Nikolaos stood. She moved a little in front of her entourage. She would only come to my collarbone, which made her short. She stood there for a moment, looking ethereal and lovely like a painting. No sense of life but a thing of lovely lines and careful color.
She stood there without moving and opened her mind to me. It felt like she had opened a door that had been locked. Her mind crashed against mine, and I staggered. Thoughts ripped into me like knives, steel-edged dreams. Fleeting bits of her mind danced in my head; where they touched I was numbed, hurt.
I was on my knees, and I didn't remember falling. I was cold, so cold. There was nothing for me.