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A Lick Of Frost :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 77 из 184The legend said love, but Aisling had corrected me: It was lust unless he put effort into the magic;then it could be love. Once, even true love could have been broken by Aisling's touch. It had worked outside and inside faerie, once upon a time. We'd proven that he could still make someone who hated him fall madly in love, give up all her secrets, and betray every oath because of his kiss. It was why I had yet to bed Aisling — he and the other guards weren't sure if I was powerful enough to resist his spell.
His veil today was white, to match the old-fashioned clothes he wore. There hadn't been time to make new clothes for the newest guards, so they wore the tunics, pants, and boots that would have looked perfect in about fifteenth-century Europe, maybe a little later. Fashion moved slowly in faerie unless you were Queen Andais. She was fond of the latest and greatest designers, as long as they liked black.
Usna had borrowed jeans, T-shirt, and a suit jacket from someone. Only the soft boots that peeked from the leg of the jeans were his own. But then a cat is less formal than a god.
"Talk to them, Meredith," Doyle said, and there was the tiniest bit of strain in his voice. The limo was a smooth ride, but when you have second-degree burns that started the day as third-degree burns, well, I guess there's no such thing as a truly smooth ride.
His comment had sounded too much like an order, but the strain in his voice made me answer. The strain and the fact that I loved him. Love makes you do all sorts of foolish things.
"Do you know who attacked us?" I asked.
"I know Taranis's handiwork when I see it," Aisling said.
"The other guards said Taranis went mad and attacked you all," Usna said. He drew his knees up tight, arms laced around them, so that his eyes were framed with his jeans and his hair. It was a frightened child's pose, and I wanted to ask if being among all this man-made metal was hard on him. Some of the lesser fey would eventually die locked inside metal. It made prison a potential death sentence for faerie folk. Lucky that most of us didn't break human law.
"What prompted the attack?" Aisling asked.
"I'm not sure," I said. "He just went crazy. I actually don't know what happened in the room, because I was buried under a mound of bodyguards." I looked at Abe still lying in my lap, and glanced at Frost and Doyle. "What did happen?"
"The king attacked Doyle," Frost said.
"What neither will say," Abe said, "is that only Doyle throwing up his gun to deflect the spell saved him from being blinded. Taranis tried for his face, and he meant it to either kill or permanently maim.
His veil today was white, to match the old-fashioned clothes he wore. There hadn't been time to make new clothes for the newest guards, so they wore the tunics, pants, and boots that would have looked perfect in about fifteenth-century Europe, maybe a little later. Fashion moved slowly in faerie unless you were Queen Andais. She was fond of the latest and greatest designers, as long as they liked black.
Usna had borrowed jeans, T-shirt, and a suit jacket from someone. Only the soft boots that peeked from the leg of the jeans were his own. But then a cat is less formal than a god.
"Talk to them, Meredith," Doyle said, and there was the tiniest bit of strain in his voice. The limo was a smooth ride, but when you have second-degree burns that started the day as third-degree burns, well, I guess there's no such thing as a truly smooth ride.
His comment had sounded too much like an order, but the strain in his voice made me answer. The strain and the fact that I loved him. Love makes you do all sorts of foolish things.
"Do you know who attacked us?" I asked.
"I know Taranis's handiwork when I see it," Aisling said.
"The other guards said Taranis went mad and attacked you all," Usna said. He drew his knees up tight, arms laced around them, so that his eyes were framed with his jeans and his hair. It was a frightened child's pose, and I wanted to ask if being among all this man-made metal was hard on him. Some of the lesser fey would eventually die locked inside metal. It made prison a potential death sentence for faerie folk. Lucky that most of us didn't break human law.
"What prompted the attack?" Aisling asked.
"I'm not sure," I said. "He just went crazy. I actually don't know what happened in the room, because I was buried under a mound of bodyguards." I looked at Abe still lying in my lap, and glanced at Frost and Doyle. "What did happen?"
"The king attacked Doyle," Frost said.
"What neither will say," Abe said, "is that only Doyle throwing up his gun to deflect the spell saved him from being blinded. Taranis tried for his face, and he meant it to either kill or permanently maim.