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Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 63 из 205Imoved as far from the door as I could and crossed over, gun trained on the door. I moved along the left-hand wall towards the hinge side of the door. It opened in. Just give it a push flat against the wall, simple. Right.
I crouched down on one knee, my shoulders hunched as if I could draw my head down like a turtle. I was betting that any gun would hit above me, chest-high. Crouched down, I was a lot shorter than chest-high.
I shoved the door open with my left hand and hugged the doorsill. It worked like a charm. My gun was pointing at the bad guy's chest. Except his hands were already in the air, and he was smiling at me.
“Don't shoot,” he said. “It's Edward.”
I knelt there staring at him; anger rose like a warm tide. “You bastard. You knew I was out here.”
He steepled his fingers. “I heard the keys.”
I stood, eyes searching the room. Edward had moved my white overstuffed chair to face the door. Nothing else seemed to be moved.
“I assure you, Anita, I am quite alone.”
“That I believe. Why didn't you call out to me?”
“I wanted to see if you were still good. I could have blown you away when you hesitated in front of the door, with your keys jingling so nicely.”
I shut the door behind me and locked it, though truthfully with Edward inside I might have been safer locking myself out rather than in. He was not an imposing man, not frightening, if you didn't know him. He was five-eight, slender, blond, blue-eyed, charming. But if I was The Executioner, he was Death itself. He was the person I had seen use a flamethrower.
I had worked with him before, and heaven knows you felt safe with him. He carried more firepower than Rambo, but he was a little too careless of innocent bystanders. He began life as a hit man. That much the police knew. I think humans became too easy so he switched to vampires and lycanthropes. And I knew that if a time came where it was more expedient to kill me than to be my “friend,” he would do it. Edward had no conscience. It made him the perfect killer.
“I've been up all bloody night, Edward. I'm not in the mood for your games.”
“How hurt are you?”
I shrugged and winced. “The hands are sore, bruises mostly. I'm all right.”
“Your night secretary said you were out at a bachelorette party.” He grinned at me, eyes sparkling. “It must have been some party-”
“I ran into a vampire you might know.”
He raised his yellow eyebrows and made a silent “Oh” with his lips.
I crouched down on one knee, my shoulders hunched as if I could draw my head down like a turtle. I was betting that any gun would hit above me, chest-high. Crouched down, I was a lot shorter than chest-high.
I shoved the door open with my left hand and hugged the doorsill. It worked like a charm. My gun was pointing at the bad guy's chest. Except his hands were already in the air, and he was smiling at me.
“Don't shoot,” he said. “It's Edward.”
I knelt there staring at him; anger rose like a warm tide. “You bastard. You knew I was out here.”
He steepled his fingers. “I heard the keys.”
I stood, eyes searching the room. Edward had moved my white overstuffed chair to face the door. Nothing else seemed to be moved.
“I assure you, Anita, I am quite alone.”
“That I believe. Why didn't you call out to me?”
“I wanted to see if you were still good. I could have blown you away when you hesitated in front of the door, with your keys jingling so nicely.”
I shut the door behind me and locked it, though truthfully with Edward inside I might have been safer locking myself out rather than in. He was not an imposing man, not frightening, if you didn't know him. He was five-eight, slender, blond, blue-eyed, charming. But if I was The Executioner, he was Death itself. He was the person I had seen use a flamethrower.
I had worked with him before, and heaven knows you felt safe with him. He carried more firepower than Rambo, but he was a little too careless of innocent bystanders. He began life as a hit man. That much the police knew. I think humans became too easy so he switched to vampires and lycanthropes. And I knew that if a time came where it was more expedient to kill me than to be my “friend,” he would do it. Edward had no conscience. It made him the perfect killer.
“I've been up all bloody night, Edward. I'm not in the mood for your games.”
“How hurt are you?”
I shrugged and winced. “The hands are sore, bruises mostly. I'm all right.”
“Your night secretary said you were out at a bachelorette party.” He grinned at me, eyes sparkling. “It must have been some party-”
“I ran into a vampire you might know.”
He raised his yellow eyebrows and made a silent “Oh” with his lips.