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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 89 из 293”
“Can you put the head agent on?”
“No. Do you have any idea how many times I had to cut myself to get enough blood on the blade to write that message? None of them are going to come near this blade. If you want to talk to the humans you are going to have to pick a more mundane method of communication. Though I don’t think a phone call will do it.”
“What do you suggest?” Doyle asked.
“Get the princess out here because she’s the one who made the calls. What little credibility I had with them vanished into the blood-soaked snow. They’re afraid of me now.” He sighed hard enough that it fogged the blade for a moment. “I’d forgotten that look in a human’s eyes. It was a part of being Cromm Cruach that I didn’t miss.”
“Forgive me for making such measures necessary,” Doyle said. “The princess and I will be there soon.”
“See you then,” and the blade went back to just brightly polished metal.
“Your Agent Gillett misunderstood you, I think.”
I shook my head. “He didn’t misunderstand. He hasn’t seen me in person since I was eighteen or nineteen. He’s reacting as if I’m still that person.”
“He hopes to push his way into this investigation,” Doyle said.
I nodded.
“You don’t want to make the feds angry at us,” Galen said. “There’s a chance that the local police lab might need a little more help with something they find tonight.” He began walking to me, forcing Mug to raise her face and adjust her balance.
It was a good point, a good clearheaded point. I smiled and went to him, and touched his face. I touched the cheek opposite the one Mug sat by. “Always looking to make peace.”
He laid his hand over mine, pressing it against his cheek. “Just to keep as much of it as I can.”
I went up on tiptoe, and he bent down so I could lay a gentle kiss upon his mouth. Mug made a sound, not a bad sound, almost a yummy sound like she liked being this close to both of us. “Give us room, Mug,” I said. She pouted, but flew off. I let myself lean into him for a moment, let his strong arms wrap around me. If we lived in different times, gentler times, Galen would have been perfect—if peace was truly what we were after, but it wasn’t, not exactly.
“What will you do about the FBI?” Doyle understood that I wasn’t going to do exactly what Galen had suggested.
“I’ll go introduce myself to the local agent, and give him a message to take back to Gillett.”
“And what will that message be?” he asked.
“Can you put the head agent on?”
“No. Do you have any idea how many times I had to cut myself to get enough blood on the blade to write that message? None of them are going to come near this blade. If you want to talk to the humans you are going to have to pick a more mundane method of communication. Though I don’t think a phone call will do it.”
“What do you suggest?” Doyle asked.
“Get the princess out here because she’s the one who made the calls. What little credibility I had with them vanished into the blood-soaked snow. They’re afraid of me now.” He sighed hard enough that it fogged the blade for a moment. “I’d forgotten that look in a human’s eyes. It was a part of being Cromm Cruach that I didn’t miss.”
“Forgive me for making such measures necessary,” Doyle said. “The princess and I will be there soon.”
“See you then,” and the blade went back to just brightly polished metal.
“Your Agent Gillett misunderstood you, I think.”
I shook my head. “He didn’t misunderstand. He hasn’t seen me in person since I was eighteen or nineteen. He’s reacting as if I’m still that person.”
“He hopes to push his way into this investigation,” Doyle said.
I nodded.
“You don’t want to make the feds angry at us,” Galen said. “There’s a chance that the local police lab might need a little more help with something they find tonight.” He began walking to me, forcing Mug to raise her face and adjust her balance.
It was a good point, a good clearheaded point. I smiled and went to him, and touched his face. I touched the cheek opposite the one Mug sat by. “Always looking to make peace.”
He laid his hand over mine, pressing it against his cheek. “Just to keep as much of it as I can.”
I went up on tiptoe, and he bent down so I could lay a gentle kiss upon his mouth. Mug made a sound, not a bad sound, almost a yummy sound like she liked being this close to both of us. “Give us room, Mug,” I said. She pouted, but flew off. I let myself lean into him for a moment, let his strong arms wrap around me. If we lived in different times, gentler times, Galen would have been perfect—if peace was truly what we were after, but it wasn’t, not exactly.
“What will you do about the FBI?” Doyle understood that I wasn’t going to do exactly what Galen had suggested.
“I’ll go introduce myself to the local agent, and give him a message to take back to Gillett.”
“And what will that message be?” he asked.