JК
Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 59 из 205I flicked the lid open on the vial and splashed his face. Flesh boiled. His skin popped and bubbled. He knelt over me, clutching his face and shrieking.
I thought he had been trapped in the house when it burned down. I had wanted him dead, wished him dead. I had wished that memory away, pushed it back. Now here he stood, my favorite nightmare come to life.
“What, no scream of horror? No gasp of fright? You disappoint me, Executioner. Don't you admire your own handiwork?”
My voice came out strangled, hushed. “I thought you died.”
“Now ya know different. And now I know you're alive, too. How cosy.”
He smiled, and the muscles on his scarred cheek pulled the smile to one side, making it a grimace. Even vampires can't heal everything. “Eternity, Executioner, eternity like this.” He caressed the scars with a gloved hand.
“What do you want?”
“Be brave, little girl, be brave as you want to be. I can feel your fear. I want to see the scars I gave you, see that you remember me, like I remember you.”
“I remember you.”
“Scars, girl, show me the scars.”
“I show you the scars, then what?”
“Then you go home, or wherever you're going. The master has given strict orders you are not be harmed until after you do your job for us.”
“Then?”
He smiled, a broad glistening expanse of teeth. “Then, I hunt you down, and I pay you back for this.” He touched his face. “Come, girl, don't be shy, I seen it all before. I tasted your blood. Show me the scars, and the muscle man won't have to die proving how strong he is.”
I glanced at Winter. Massive fists were crossed over his chest. His spine nearly vibrated with readiness. The vampire was right; Winter would die trying. I pushed the ripped sleeve above the elbow. A mound of scar tissue decorated the bend in my arm; scars dribbled down from it, like liquid, crisscrossing and flowing down the outer edge of my arm. The cross-shaped burn took up the only clear space on the inside of my forearm.
“I didn't think you'd ever use that arm again, after the way I tore into it.”
“Physical therapy is a wonderful thing.”
“Ain't no physical therapy gonna help me.”
“No,” I said. The first button was missing on my blouse. One more and I spread my shirt back to expose the collarbone. Scars ridged it, crawled over it. It looked real attractive in a bathing suit.
“Good,” the vampire said. “You smell like cold sweat when you think of me, little girl.
I thought he had been trapped in the house when it burned down. I had wanted him dead, wished him dead. I had wished that memory away, pushed it back. Now here he stood, my favorite nightmare come to life.
“What, no scream of horror? No gasp of fright? You disappoint me, Executioner. Don't you admire your own handiwork?”
My voice came out strangled, hushed. “I thought you died.”
“Now ya know different. And now I know you're alive, too. How cosy.”
He smiled, and the muscles on his scarred cheek pulled the smile to one side, making it a grimace. Even vampires can't heal everything. “Eternity, Executioner, eternity like this.” He caressed the scars with a gloved hand.
“What do you want?”
“Be brave, little girl, be brave as you want to be. I can feel your fear. I want to see the scars I gave you, see that you remember me, like I remember you.”
“I remember you.”
“Scars, girl, show me the scars.”
“I show you the scars, then what?”
“Then you go home, or wherever you're going. The master has given strict orders you are not be harmed until after you do your job for us.”
“Then?”
He smiled, a broad glistening expanse of teeth. “Then, I hunt you down, and I pay you back for this.” He touched his face. “Come, girl, don't be shy, I seen it all before. I tasted your blood. Show me the scars, and the muscle man won't have to die proving how strong he is.”
I glanced at Winter. Massive fists were crossed over his chest. His spine nearly vibrated with readiness. The vampire was right; Winter would die trying. I pushed the ripped sleeve above the elbow. A mound of scar tissue decorated the bend in my arm; scars dribbled down from it, like liquid, crisscrossing and flowing down the outer edge of my arm. The cross-shaped burn took up the only clear space on the inside of my forearm.
“I didn't think you'd ever use that arm again, after the way I tore into it.”
“Physical therapy is a wonderful thing.”
“Ain't no physical therapy gonna help me.”
“No,” I said. The first button was missing on my blouse. One more and I spread my shirt back to expose the collarbone. Scars ridged it, crawled over it. It looked real attractive in a bathing suit.
“Good,” the vampire said. “You smell like cold sweat when you think of me, little girl.