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Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 60 из 205I was hoping I haunted you theway you haunted me.”
“There is a difference, you know.”
“And what might that be?”
“You were trying to kill me. I was defending myself.”
“And why had you come to our house? To put stakes through our hearts. You came to our house to kill us. We didn't go hunting for you.”
“But you did go hunting for twenty-three other people. That's a lot of people. Your group had to be stopped.”
“Who appointed you God? Who made you our executioner?”
I took a deep breath. It was steady, didn't tremble. Brownie point for me. “The police.”
“Bah.” He spit on the floor. Very appealing. “You work real hard, girl. You find the murderer, then we'll finish up.”
“May I go now?”
“By all means. You're safe tonight, because the master says so, but that will change.”
Zachary said, “Out the side door.” He walked nearly backwards watching the vampire as we moved away. Winter stayed behind, guarding our backs. Idiot.
Zachary opened the door. The night was hot and sticky. Summer wind slapped against my face, humid, and close, and beautiful.
The vampire called, “Remember the name Valentine, 'cause you'll be hearing from me.”
Zachary and I walked out the door. It clanged shut behind us. There was no handle on the outside, no way to open it. A one way ticket, out. Out sounded just fine.
We started to walk. “You got a gun with silver bullets in it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I'd start carrying it if I were you.”
“Silver bullets won't kill him.”
“But it'll slow him down.”
“Yeah.” We walked for a few minutes in silence. The warm summer night seemed to slide around us, hold us in sticky, curious hands.
“What I need is a shotgun.”
He looked at me. “You going to carry a shotgun with you day after day?”
“Sawed off, it would fit under a coat.”
“In the middle of a Missouri summer, you'd melt. Why not a machine gun, or a flamethrower, while you're at it?”
“Machine gun has too wide a spread range. You may hit innocent people. Flamethrower's bulky. Messy, too.”
He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “You've used a flamethrower on vampires before?”
“No, but I saw it used.”
“My god.” He stared off into space for a moment, then asked, “Did it work?”
“Like a charm; messy, though. And it burned the house down around us. I thought it was a little extreme.”
“I'll bet.
“There is a difference, you know.”
“And what might that be?”
“You were trying to kill me. I was defending myself.”
“And why had you come to our house? To put stakes through our hearts. You came to our house to kill us. We didn't go hunting for you.”
“But you did go hunting for twenty-three other people. That's a lot of people. Your group had to be stopped.”
“Who appointed you God? Who made you our executioner?”
I took a deep breath. It was steady, didn't tremble. Brownie point for me. “The police.”
“Bah.” He spit on the floor. Very appealing. “You work real hard, girl. You find the murderer, then we'll finish up.”
“May I go now?”
“By all means. You're safe tonight, because the master says so, but that will change.”
Zachary said, “Out the side door.” He walked nearly backwards watching the vampire as we moved away. Winter stayed behind, guarding our backs. Idiot.
Zachary opened the door. The night was hot and sticky. Summer wind slapped against my face, humid, and close, and beautiful.
The vampire called, “Remember the name Valentine, 'cause you'll be hearing from me.”
Zachary and I walked out the door. It clanged shut behind us. There was no handle on the outside, no way to open it. A one way ticket, out. Out sounded just fine.
We started to walk. “You got a gun with silver bullets in it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I'd start carrying it if I were you.”
“Silver bullets won't kill him.”
“But it'll slow him down.”
“Yeah.” We walked for a few minutes in silence. The warm summer night seemed to slide around us, hold us in sticky, curious hands.
“What I need is a shotgun.”
He looked at me. “You going to carry a shotgun with you day after day?”
“Sawed off, it would fit under a coat.”
“In the middle of a Missouri summer, you'd melt. Why not a machine gun, or a flamethrower, while you're at it?”
“Machine gun has too wide a spread range. You may hit innocent people. Flamethrower's bulky. Messy, too.”
He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “You've used a flamethrower on vampires before?”
“No, but I saw it used.”
“My god.” He stared off into space for a moment, then asked, “Did it work?”
“Like a charm; messy, though. And it burned the house down around us. I thought it was a little extreme.”
“I'll bet.