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The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
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"Bullshit."
"He's jealous of you and me," Richard said.
"I am not jealous."
"You're always telling Anita how you can smell her desire for you. Well, I can smell yours. You want her so bad you can" — Richard gave an almost bitter sound—"taste it."
"And you, Monsieur Zeeman, you don't lust after her?"
"Stop talking like I'm not here," I said.
"Anita asked me out on a date. I said yes."
"Is this true, ma petite ?" His voice had gone very quiet. Scarier than anger, that quietness.
I wanted to say no, but he'd smell a lie. "It's true. What of it?"
Silence. He just stood there utterly still. If I hadn't been looking right at him, I wouldn't have known he was there. The dead make no noise.
My beeper went off. Richard and I jumped as if we'd been shot. Jean-Claude was motionless as if he hadn't heard it.
I hit the button, and the number that flashed made me groan.
"What is it?" Richard asked. He laid his hand on my shoulder.
"The police. I've got to find a phone." I leaned back against Richard's chest. His hand squeezed my shoulder. I stared at the vampire in front of me. Would Jean-Claude hurt him after I'd gone? I wasn't sure.
"You got a cross on you?" I didn't bother to whisper. Jean-Claude would have heard me anyway.
"No."
I half turned. "No! You're out after dark without a cross?"
He shrugged. "I'm a shapeshifter. I can take care of myself."
I shook my head. "Getting your throat ripped out once wasn't enough?"
"I'm still alive," he said.
"I know you heal from almost anything, but for God's sake, Richard, you don't heal from everything." I started pulling the silver chain of my crucifix out of my blouse. "You can borrow mine."
"Is that real silver?" Richard asked.
"Yes."
"I can't. I'm allergic to silver, remember."
Ah. Stupid me. Some preternatural expert offering silver to a lycanthrope. I tucked the chain back in my blouse.
"He's no more human than I am, ma petite ."
"At least I'm not dead."
"That can be remedied."
"Stop it, both of you."
"Have you seen her bedroom, Richard? Her collection of toy penguins?"
I took a deep breath and let it out. I was not going to stand here and explain how Jean-Claude had managed to see my bedroom. Did I really have to say, out loud, that I didn't sleep with the walking dead?
"You're trying to make me jealous, and it won't work," Richard said.
"Bullshit."
"He's jealous of you and me," Richard said.
"I am not jealous."
"You're always telling Anita how you can smell her desire for you. Well, I can smell yours. You want her so bad you can" — Richard gave an almost bitter sound—"taste it."
"And you, Monsieur Zeeman, you don't lust after her?"
"Stop talking like I'm not here," I said.
"Anita asked me out on a date. I said yes."
"Is this true, ma petite ?" His voice had gone very quiet. Scarier than anger, that quietness.
I wanted to say no, but he'd smell a lie. "It's true. What of it?"
Silence. He just stood there utterly still. If I hadn't been looking right at him, I wouldn't have known he was there. The dead make no noise.
My beeper went off. Richard and I jumped as if we'd been shot. Jean-Claude was motionless as if he hadn't heard it.
I hit the button, and the number that flashed made me groan.
"What is it?" Richard asked. He laid his hand on my shoulder.
"The police. I've got to find a phone." I leaned back against Richard's chest. His hand squeezed my shoulder. I stared at the vampire in front of me. Would Jean-Claude hurt him after I'd gone? I wasn't sure.
"You got a cross on you?" I didn't bother to whisper. Jean-Claude would have heard me anyway.
"No."
I half turned. "No! You're out after dark without a cross?"
He shrugged. "I'm a shapeshifter. I can take care of myself."
I shook my head. "Getting your throat ripped out once wasn't enough?"
"I'm still alive," he said.
"I know you heal from almost anything, but for God's sake, Richard, you don't heal from everything." I started pulling the silver chain of my crucifix out of my blouse. "You can borrow mine."
"Is that real silver?" Richard asked.
"Yes."
"I can't. I'm allergic to silver, remember."
Ah. Stupid me. Some preternatural expert offering silver to a lycanthrope. I tucked the chain back in my blouse.
"He's no more human than I am, ma petite ."
"At least I'm not dead."
"That can be remedied."
"Stop it, both of you."
"Have you seen her bedroom, Richard? Her collection of toy penguins?"
I took a deep breath and let it out. I was not going to stand here and explain how Jean-Claude had managed to see my bedroom. Did I really have to say, out loud, that I didn't sleep with the walking dead?
"You're trying to make me jealous, and it won't work," Richard said.