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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 151 из 293It wasn’t lust, no matter what Adair had said. Her eyes filled with the mindless devotion of teenagers in their first crush, or newlyweds on a perfect honeymoon. She looked at Aisling as if he were her entire world.
Melangell had never liked Aisling, never had much use for him. Now she looked at him the way a flower gazes at the sun, and it made me sick to see it. I didn’t like Melangell, but this was… wrong. If there was no cure for it, then I had done something far worse to her than any torture I could have devised. To be hopelessly, completely in love with someone who hated you. There isn’t even a level in Dante’s hell for that.
Frost seemed to understand because he said, “Aisling, ask her the question.”
“Why did you attack Galen?”
“To kill him.” Maybe she wasn’t as totally besotted as she appeared.
“Why did you want to kill him?”
“Because Prince Cel wants him out of Meredith’s bed.”
“Why does he want that?”
Melangell shook her head hard, as if trying to clear her thoughts.
Aisling knelt in front of her, putting his face and upper body close to her. “Why does Cel want Galen out of Princess Meredith’s bed?”
She’d closed her eyes again. “No,” she said, “no.”
“You cannot close me out of your mind, Melangell. You have seen me. You cannot unsee me now.” His voice was a whisper, but it seemed to trail down my skin. It made me shiver and it wasn’t directed at me.
Frost whispered against my ear, “Her power was once similar to his; it may mean she can escape him.”
“She could kill with her touch.”
“But how do you get a man to touch you, Meredith? By making them want you.”
It made sense, though frankly Melangell was beautiful enough without the extra lure.
He leaned in and I thought he would kiss her, but she pushed backwards as far as Hawthorne would let her go. “Don’t touch me,” she said.
“You said my power had faded, Melangell. Why fear my touch if I am but a ghost of what I was? Why does Cel want Galen out of Meredith’s bed?” He grabbed her face between his hands, and she screamed, though not in pain. “I am willing to test my magic against yours, Melangell.” He kissed her, long and lingering.
Frost had tensed beside me. Which meant that once even a kiss from Melangell had been a dangerous thing. That I had not known. Dangerous indeed.
Aisling drew back, and her face was raw with need.
Melangell had never liked Aisling, never had much use for him. Now she looked at him the way a flower gazes at the sun, and it made me sick to see it. I didn’t like Melangell, but this was… wrong. If there was no cure for it, then I had done something far worse to her than any torture I could have devised. To be hopelessly, completely in love with someone who hated you. There isn’t even a level in Dante’s hell for that.
Frost seemed to understand because he said, “Aisling, ask her the question.”
“Why did you attack Galen?”
“To kill him.” Maybe she wasn’t as totally besotted as she appeared.
“Why did you want to kill him?”
“Because Prince Cel wants him out of Meredith’s bed.”
“Why does he want that?”
Melangell shook her head hard, as if trying to clear her thoughts.
Aisling knelt in front of her, putting his face and upper body close to her. “Why does Cel want Galen out of Princess Meredith’s bed?”
She’d closed her eyes again. “No,” she said, “no.”
“You cannot close me out of your mind, Melangell. You have seen me. You cannot unsee me now.” His voice was a whisper, but it seemed to trail down my skin. It made me shiver and it wasn’t directed at me.
Frost whispered against my ear, “Her power was once similar to his; it may mean she can escape him.”
“She could kill with her touch.”
“But how do you get a man to touch you, Meredith? By making them want you.”
It made sense, though frankly Melangell was beautiful enough without the extra lure.
He leaned in and I thought he would kiss her, but she pushed backwards as far as Hawthorne would let her go. “Don’t touch me,” she said.
“You said my power had faded, Melangell. Why fear my touch if I am but a ghost of what I was? Why does Cel want Galen out of Meredith’s bed?” He grabbed her face between his hands, and she screamed, though not in pain. “I am willing to test my magic against yours, Melangell.” He kissed her, long and lingering.
Frost had tensed beside me. Which meant that once even a kiss from Melangell had been a dangerous thing. That I had not known. Dangerous indeed.
Aisling drew back, and her face was raw with need.