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Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 72 из 205It isn't popular to worry about Heaven and Hell, and whether you are an absolutely good person. So the Church was gaining followers all over the place. If you didn't believe that it destroyed your soul, what did you have to lose? Daylight. Food. Not much to give up.
It was the soul part that bothered me. My immortal soul is not for sale, not even for eternity. You see, I knew vampires could die. I had proved it. No one seemed curious as to what happened to a vampire's soul when it died. Could you be a good vampire and go to Heaven? Somehow that didn't quite work for me.
“Is Bert with a client, too?”
She glanced once more at the appointment book. “No, he's free.” She looked up and smiled, as if she was pleased to be able to help me. Maybe she was.
It is true that Bert took the smallest of the three offices. The walls are a soft pastel blue, the carpet two colors darker. Bert thinks it soothes the clients. I think it's like standing inside a blue ice cube.
Bert didn't match the small blue office. There is nothing small about Bert. Six-four, broad shoulders, a college athlete's figure getting a little soft around the middle. His white hair is close-cut over small ears. A boater's tan forces his pale eyes and hair into sharp contrast. His eyes are a nearly colorless grey, like dirty window glass. You have to work very hard to make dirty grey eyes shine, but they were shining now. Bert was practically beaming at me. It was a bad sign.
“Anita, what a pleasant surprise. Have a sit.” He waved a business envelope at me. “We got the check today.”
“Check?” I asked.
“For looking into the vampire murders.”
I had forgotten. I had forgotten that somewhere in all this I had been promised money. It seemed ridiculous, obscene, that Nikolaos would make everything better with money. From the look on Bert's face, a lot of money.
“How much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.” He stretched each word out, making it last.
“It isn't enough.”
He laughed. “Anna, getting greedy in your old age. I thought that was my job.”
“It isn't enough for Catherine's life, or mine.”
His grin wilted slightly. His eyes looked wary, as if I was about to tell him there was no Easter Bunny. I could almost hear him wondering if he would have to return the check.
“What are you talking about, Anita?”
I told him, with a few minor revisions. No “Circus of the Damned.” No blue fire. No first vampire mark.
When I got to the part about Aubrey smashing me into the wall, he said, “You are kidding.
It was the soul part that bothered me. My immortal soul is not for sale, not even for eternity. You see, I knew vampires could die. I had proved it. No one seemed curious as to what happened to a vampire's soul when it died. Could you be a good vampire and go to Heaven? Somehow that didn't quite work for me.
“Is Bert with a client, too?”
She glanced once more at the appointment book. “No, he's free.” She looked up and smiled, as if she was pleased to be able to help me. Maybe she was.
It is true that Bert took the smallest of the three offices. The walls are a soft pastel blue, the carpet two colors darker. Bert thinks it soothes the clients. I think it's like standing inside a blue ice cube.
Bert didn't match the small blue office. There is nothing small about Bert. Six-four, broad shoulders, a college athlete's figure getting a little soft around the middle. His white hair is close-cut over small ears. A boater's tan forces his pale eyes and hair into sharp contrast. His eyes are a nearly colorless grey, like dirty window glass. You have to work very hard to make dirty grey eyes shine, but they were shining now. Bert was practically beaming at me. It was a bad sign.
“Anita, what a pleasant surprise. Have a sit.” He waved a business envelope at me. “We got the check today.”
“Check?” I asked.
“For looking into the vampire murders.”
I had forgotten. I had forgotten that somewhere in all this I had been promised money. It seemed ridiculous, obscene, that Nikolaos would make everything better with money. From the look on Bert's face, a lot of money.
“How much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.” He stretched each word out, making it last.
“It isn't enough.”
He laughed. “Anna, getting greedy in your old age. I thought that was my job.”
“It isn't enough for Catherine's life, or mine.”
His grin wilted slightly. His eyes looked wary, as if I was about to tell him there was no Easter Bunny. I could almost hear him wondering if he would have to return the check.
“What are you talking about, Anita?”
I told him, with a few minor revisions. No “Circus of the Damned.” No blue fire. No first vampire mark.
When I got to the part about Aubrey smashing me into the wall, he said, “You are kidding.