JК
The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 22 из 234If she'd been human, there would have been bruises. "Get hold of yourself, woman. You are losing control."
Her thinning lips drew back from fangs. She hissed at him, jerking free of his hand. She covered her face with hands that were almost claws. I'd seen vampires show their true form, but never by accident, never in the open, where anyone might see. "I love you." The words came out muffled and twisted, but the feeling in those three words was very real. Very. . human.
"Get out of sight before you disgrace us all," Jean-Claude said.
She raised a face to the light that was no longer human. The pale skin glowed with an inner light. The makeup sat on that glowing surface. The blush, eye shadow, lipstick seemed to float above the light, as if her skin would no longer absorb them. When she turned her head, I could see the bones in her jaws like shadows inside her skin. "This is not over between us, Anita Blake." The words fell out from between fangs and teeth.
"Leave us!" Jean-Claude's words were an echoing hiss.
She launched herself skyward, not a leap, not levitation, just upward. She vanished into the darkness with a backwash of wind.
"Sweet Jesus," I whispered it.
"I am sorry, ma petite . I sent her out here so this would not happen." He walked towards me in his elegant cape. A gust of icy wind whistled around the corner, and he had to make a grab for the top hat. It was nice to know that at least his clothing didn't obey his every whim.
"I've got to go, Jean-Claude. The police are waiting for me."
"I did not mean for this to happen tonight."
"You never mean for anything to happen, Jean-Claude. But it happens anyway." I put a hand up to stop his words. I didn't want to hear any more of them.
"I've got to go." I turned and walked towards my car. I transferred my gun back to its holster when I was safely across the icy street.
"I am sorry, ma petite ." I whirled to tell him to get the hell away from me. He wasn't there. The streetlight glowed down on empty sidewalk. I guess he and Gretchen hadn't needed a car.
7
There is a glimpse of stately old homes to the right just before you turn onto Highway 44. The houses hide behind a wrought-iron fence and a security gate. When the homes were built, they were the height of elegance and so was the neighborhood. Now the town houses are an island in a rising flood of project housing and dead-eyed children who shoot each other over a scuffed sneaker. But the old money stayed, determined to be elegant, even if it kills them.
In Fenton the Chrysler plant is still the largest employer.
Her thinning lips drew back from fangs. She hissed at him, jerking free of his hand. She covered her face with hands that were almost claws. I'd seen vampires show their true form, but never by accident, never in the open, where anyone might see. "I love you." The words came out muffled and twisted, but the feeling in those three words was very real. Very. . human.
"Get out of sight before you disgrace us all," Jean-Claude said.
She raised a face to the light that was no longer human. The pale skin glowed with an inner light. The makeup sat on that glowing surface. The blush, eye shadow, lipstick seemed to float above the light, as if her skin would no longer absorb them. When she turned her head, I could see the bones in her jaws like shadows inside her skin. "This is not over between us, Anita Blake." The words fell out from between fangs and teeth.
"Leave us!" Jean-Claude's words were an echoing hiss.
She launched herself skyward, not a leap, not levitation, just upward. She vanished into the darkness with a backwash of wind.
"Sweet Jesus," I whispered it.
"I am sorry, ma petite . I sent her out here so this would not happen." He walked towards me in his elegant cape. A gust of icy wind whistled around the corner, and he had to make a grab for the top hat. It was nice to know that at least his clothing didn't obey his every whim.
"I've got to go, Jean-Claude. The police are waiting for me."
"I did not mean for this to happen tonight."
"You never mean for anything to happen, Jean-Claude. But it happens anyway." I put a hand up to stop his words. I didn't want to hear any more of them.
"I've got to go." I turned and walked towards my car. I transferred my gun back to its holster when I was safely across the icy street.
"I am sorry, ma petite ." I whirled to tell him to get the hell away from me. He wasn't there. The streetlight glowed down on empty sidewalk. I guess he and Gretchen hadn't needed a car.
7
There is a glimpse of stately old homes to the right just before you turn onto Highway 44. The houses hide behind a wrought-iron fence and a security gate. When the homes were built, they were the height of elegance and so was the neighborhood. Now the town houses are an island in a rising flood of project housing and dead-eyed children who shoot each other over a scuffed sneaker. But the old money stayed, determined to be elegant, even if it kills them.
In Fenton the Chrysler plant is still the largest employer.