JК
The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 12 из 234His shoes had spats on them, like the ones Fred Astaire used to wear, though I suspected theentire outfit was of a much older style.
His hair was fashionably long, the nearly black curls edging the white collar. I knew what color his eyes were, but I didn't look at them now. They were midnight blue, the color of a really good sapphire. Never look a vampire in the eyes. It's a rule.
With the master vampire of the city standing there, waiting, I realized how empty the theater was. We'd waited out the crowd, all right. We were alone in the echoing silence. The distant murmur of the departing crowd was like white noise. It meant nothing to us. I stared at the shiny mother-of-pearl buttons on Jean-Claude's vest. It was hard to be tough when you couldn't meet someone's eyes. But I'd manage.
"God, Jean-Claude, don't you ever wear anything but black and white?"
"Don't you like it, ma petite ?" He gave a little spin so I could get the whole effect. The outfit suited him beautifully. Of course, everything he wore seemed made to order, perfect, lovely, just like him.
"Somehow I didn't think Guys and Dolls would be your cup of tea, Jean-Claude."
"Or yours, ma petite ." The voice was rich like cream, with a warmth that only two things could give it: anger or lust. I was betting it wasn't lust.
I had the gun, and silver bullets would slow him down, but it wouldn't kill him. Of course, Jean-Claude wouldn't jump us in public. He was much too civilized for that. He was a business vampire, an entrepreneur. Entrepreneurs, dead or alive, didn't go around tearing people's throats out. Normally.
"Richard, you're unusually quiet." He stared past me. I didn't glance back to see what Richard was doing. Never take your eyes off the vampire in front of you to glance at the werewolf in back of you. One problem at a time.
"Anita can speak for herself," Richard said.
Jean-Claude's attention flicked back to me. "That is certainly true. But I came to see how the two of you enjoyed the play."
"And pigs fly," I said.
"You don't believe me?"
"Not hardly," I said.
"Come, Richard, how did you enjoy your evening?" There was an edge of laughter to his voice but under that was still the anger. Master vampires are not good to be around when they're angry.
"It was wonderful until you showed up." There was a note of warmth to Richard's voice, the beginnings of anger. I'd never seen him angry.
"How could my mere presence spoil your. . date?" The last was spit out, scalding hot.
"Why are you so pissed tonight, Jean-Claude?" I asked.
"Why, ma petite , I never get. . pissed.
His hair was fashionably long, the nearly black curls edging the white collar. I knew what color his eyes were, but I didn't look at them now. They were midnight blue, the color of a really good sapphire. Never look a vampire in the eyes. It's a rule.
With the master vampire of the city standing there, waiting, I realized how empty the theater was. We'd waited out the crowd, all right. We were alone in the echoing silence. The distant murmur of the departing crowd was like white noise. It meant nothing to us. I stared at the shiny mother-of-pearl buttons on Jean-Claude's vest. It was hard to be tough when you couldn't meet someone's eyes. But I'd manage.
"God, Jean-Claude, don't you ever wear anything but black and white?"
"Don't you like it, ma petite ?" He gave a little spin so I could get the whole effect. The outfit suited him beautifully. Of course, everything he wore seemed made to order, perfect, lovely, just like him.
"Somehow I didn't think Guys and Dolls would be your cup of tea, Jean-Claude."
"Or yours, ma petite ." The voice was rich like cream, with a warmth that only two things could give it: anger or lust. I was betting it wasn't lust.
I had the gun, and silver bullets would slow him down, but it wouldn't kill him. Of course, Jean-Claude wouldn't jump us in public. He was much too civilized for that. He was a business vampire, an entrepreneur. Entrepreneurs, dead or alive, didn't go around tearing people's throats out. Normally.
"Richard, you're unusually quiet." He stared past me. I didn't glance back to see what Richard was doing. Never take your eyes off the vampire in front of you to glance at the werewolf in back of you. One problem at a time.
"Anita can speak for herself," Richard said.
Jean-Claude's attention flicked back to me. "That is certainly true. But I came to see how the two of you enjoyed the play."
"And pigs fly," I said.
"You don't believe me?"
"Not hardly," I said.
"Come, Richard, how did you enjoy your evening?" There was an edge of laughter to his voice but under that was still the anger. Master vampires are not good to be around when they're angry.
"It was wonderful until you showed up." There was a note of warmth to Richard's voice, the beginnings of anger. I'd never seen him angry.
"How could my mere presence spoil your. . date?" The last was spit out, scalding hot.
"Why are you so pissed tonight, Jean-Claude?" I asked.
"Why, ma petite , I never get. . pissed.