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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 102 из 293She is disoriented, and would be useless in a fight.”
Frost was staring off into the darkness. He and another fringe of guards were all staring out into the cold night. His voice carried to me. “Is this the beginning of a more overt attack?”
“Who would be so bold as to attack the human guards?” Amatheon wondered aloud. He’d been eager to come out into the cold, anything to be farther away from the queen, I think. But I remembered again that he had been Cel’s creature for centuries. Did a few acts of honor and kindness erase centuries of allegiance? And as close to Cel as he had been, he had to have witnessed some of the horrors the female guards spoke of, didn’t he? I made a mental note to ask him later, with Doyle and Frost at my back. Onilwyn was inside the faerie mound, because he had not recovered from the beating Maggie May and I had given him. Cold iron forces even the sidhe to heal human slow. Him I did not trust at all. Amatheon I was beginning to trust; was I wrong to trust him? Of course, the question itself meant I didn’t trust him, not really.
“Who indeed,” I said, and fought not to look at him, not to let him know with body language that I wondered if it was him.
Either I betrayed myself, or he felt insecure, because he said, “I will make any oath that I did not know of this.”
“You said you were a man without honor,” Adair said. “A man without honor has no oath.”
“Enough,” Doyle said, “we will not squabble amongst ourselves, not this close to the humans.”
“Doyle’s right. We will discuss this later.” I raised my face up to him, and said, “Can you remove it so that Biddy and I do not infect the police?”
“I can.”
“Then do it, and let us get this done.”
“You sound angry,” Galen said.
“I am tired of whoever is doing all this. Tired of these games.”
“It is a good sign, in a way,” Doyle said.
I looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“It means our murderer fears the human police, fears they may find him where our magic has failed.” He stuffed his gloves in the pocket of his coat and slid my hood off, so that the cold air spilled around my face. I shivered.
“I am afraid I will have to make you colder before I am done.”
I nodded. “Get this off of me, and I will warm myself.”
He pushed my cloak back. The cold rushed in, stealing the shell of warmth that the cloak had made. I fought not to shiver as he spread his hands over me, not touching even so much as my clothing, but caressing just above my body.
Frost was staring off into the darkness. He and another fringe of guards were all staring out into the cold night. His voice carried to me. “Is this the beginning of a more overt attack?”
“Who would be so bold as to attack the human guards?” Amatheon wondered aloud. He’d been eager to come out into the cold, anything to be farther away from the queen, I think. But I remembered again that he had been Cel’s creature for centuries. Did a few acts of honor and kindness erase centuries of allegiance? And as close to Cel as he had been, he had to have witnessed some of the horrors the female guards spoke of, didn’t he? I made a mental note to ask him later, with Doyle and Frost at my back. Onilwyn was inside the faerie mound, because he had not recovered from the beating Maggie May and I had given him. Cold iron forces even the sidhe to heal human slow. Him I did not trust at all. Amatheon I was beginning to trust; was I wrong to trust him? Of course, the question itself meant I didn’t trust him, not really.
“Who indeed,” I said, and fought not to look at him, not to let him know with body language that I wondered if it was him.
Either I betrayed myself, or he felt insecure, because he said, “I will make any oath that I did not know of this.”
“You said you were a man without honor,” Adair said. “A man without honor has no oath.”
“Enough,” Doyle said, “we will not squabble amongst ourselves, not this close to the humans.”
“Doyle’s right. We will discuss this later.” I raised my face up to him, and said, “Can you remove it so that Biddy and I do not infect the police?”
“I can.”
“Then do it, and let us get this done.”
“You sound angry,” Galen said.
“I am tired of whoever is doing all this. Tired of these games.”
“It is a good sign, in a way,” Doyle said.
I looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“It means our murderer fears the human police, fears they may find him where our magic has failed.” He stuffed his gloves in the pocket of his coat and slid my hood off, so that the cold air spilled around my face. I shivered.
“I am afraid I will have to make you colder before I am done.”
I nodded. “Get this off of me, and I will warm myself.”
He pushed my cloak back. The cold rushed in, stealing the shell of warmth that the cloak had made. I fought not to shiver as he spread his hands over me, not touching even so much as my clothing, but caressing just above my body.