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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 97 из 293“What has he done?”
“No, Meredith,” Doyle said, “perhaps later when we have the luxury of time and hours to go before we would sleep. None of it is comforting bedtime stories.”
“We have a murder investigation; trust me, we won’t see sleep for hours,” I said.
“What you need to know,” Doyle said, “is that he has fixated on you.”
“Fixated how?” I asked.
They exchanged another look. Doyle shook his head. But Frost said, “She needs to know, Doyle.”
“Then tell her. Why must I always be the bearer of such news?”
Frost blinked at him, and fought not to show on his face what he and I were thinking. We hadn’t known that bringing bad news bothered Doyle. He had been the Queen’s Darkness, and the Darkness could speak hideous truth and be unmoved, or so it had seemed. It was as if the one outburst had stripped Doyle of some part of himself.
Frost said, “As you will then.” He looked down at me. “He called one of the women guards by your name and swore that if his mother is so determined to have you with child, it will be his seed in your body.”
I looked into that handsome face, and wanted to ask if he were joking, but I knew he was not. It was my turn to shudder. “I would rather die.”
“I’m not certain he would care,” Doyle said softly.
“What do you mean by that?”
“One of the lesser fey died during one of Cel’s rapes.” Doyle sighed again, and a look came into his eyes I hadn’t seen often—fear. “He liked that she died during the sex. He continued to rape her corpse until her body became quite decayed.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Or so his guard say,” Frost said.
“You saw their eyes, do you truly believe they lied?”
Frost let his breath out in a long sigh, and shook his head. “No.” He bent over me, hugging me, burying me beneath a spill of silver hair. “I am sorry, Meredith, but we felt you needed to know.”
“I was afraid of Cel before,” I said.
“Be more afraid now,” Doyle said. “Someone like that cannot be handed the keys to the Unseelie Court, especially now that power seems to be returning to us. With power, we are more dangerous. Too dangerous to be given over to a madman.”
“Power returns because of Meredith,” Frost said.
“Yes, but once power is reborn in the sidhe, it will be like a gun. It will not care how it is used.”
“The Goddess may abandon us forever if the power is misused,” I said.
“No, Meredith,” Doyle said, “perhaps later when we have the luxury of time and hours to go before we would sleep. None of it is comforting bedtime stories.”
“We have a murder investigation; trust me, we won’t see sleep for hours,” I said.
“What you need to know,” Doyle said, “is that he has fixated on you.”
“Fixated how?” I asked.
They exchanged another look. Doyle shook his head. But Frost said, “She needs to know, Doyle.”
“Then tell her. Why must I always be the bearer of such news?”
Frost blinked at him, and fought not to show on his face what he and I were thinking. We hadn’t known that bringing bad news bothered Doyle. He had been the Queen’s Darkness, and the Darkness could speak hideous truth and be unmoved, or so it had seemed. It was as if the one outburst had stripped Doyle of some part of himself.
Frost said, “As you will then.” He looked down at me. “He called one of the women guards by your name and swore that if his mother is so determined to have you with child, it will be his seed in your body.”
I looked into that handsome face, and wanted to ask if he were joking, but I knew he was not. It was my turn to shudder. “I would rather die.”
“I’m not certain he would care,” Doyle said softly.
“What do you mean by that?”
“One of the lesser fey died during one of Cel’s rapes.” Doyle sighed again, and a look came into his eyes I hadn’t seen often—fear. “He liked that she died during the sex. He continued to rape her corpse until her body became quite decayed.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Or so his guard say,” Frost said.
“You saw their eyes, do you truly believe they lied?”
Frost let his breath out in a long sigh, and shook his head. “No.” He bent over me, hugging me, burying me beneath a spill of silver hair. “I am sorry, Meredith, but we felt you needed to know.”
“I was afraid of Cel before,” I said.
“Be more afraid now,” Doyle said. “Someone like that cannot be handed the keys to the Unseelie Court, especially now that power seems to be returning to us. With power, we are more dangerous. Too dangerous to be given over to a madman.”
“Power returns because of Meredith,” Frost said.
“Yes, but once power is reborn in the sidhe, it will be like a gun. It will not care how it is used.”
“The Goddess may abandon us forever if the power is misused,” I said.