JК
A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 164 из 338"
"Funny how the police didn't mind me leaving the state with a murder investigation hanging over my head."
"I would not at all be surprised if your aunt, our queen, made some phone calls. She can be quite charming when she wants to be."
"And when that fails, she's scary as hell," I said.
He nodded. "That, too."
The male flight attendant took care of first class for the rest of the flight. The woman never came near us again, until we were getting off the plane. Then she took Doyle's hand, and said, voice urgent, "You will call me, won't you?"
Doyle kissed her hand. "Oh, yes, I will call, and you will answer every question that I put to you honestly, won't you?"
She nodded, tears trailing down her face. "Anything you want."
I had to drag Doyle away from her. I whispered, "I'd take a chaperone with me when you go to question her."
"I had not intended going alone," he said. He looked at me, our faces very close because we were whispering. "I learned very recently that I am not unaccessible to sexual advances." His look was very frank, open, the look I'd wanted on the plane. "I will have to be more careful in the future." With that he raised up, so that he was too tall for whispering, and began to walk down the narrow hallway toward the airport proper. I followed him.
We left the noise of engines behind and walked toward the sound of people.
Chapter 20
THE PEOPLE WERE A LARGE MURMUROUS NOISE THAT SWELLED TOWARD me and over me, as if I were being swallowed in a sea of noise as I walked down the concourse. The crowd walked back and forth at the opening like bits of multicolored debris, a wall of people. Doyle walked just ahead of me like an advance guard, which was exactly what he was.
Our gate was in line with the broad hallway that led deeper into the airport. Doyle was at the opening of the concourse, standing to one side, waiting for me. Then through the crowd I saw a tall figure come striding toward us. Galen was dressed in layers of green and white: pale green sweater, paler green pants, and an ankle-length white duster coat floating out behind him like a cape. The sweater matched his hair, which fell in short curls to just below his ear, except for one long thin braid. His father had been a pixie, whom the queen had had killed for the audacious crime of seducing one of her handmaidens.
I don't believe the queen would have killed the pixie if she'd known he'd begotten a child. Children are precious, and anything that breeds, that passes the blood along, is worth keeping around.
"Funny how the police didn't mind me leaving the state with a murder investigation hanging over my head."
"I would not at all be surprised if your aunt, our queen, made some phone calls. She can be quite charming when she wants to be."
"And when that fails, she's scary as hell," I said.
He nodded. "That, too."
The male flight attendant took care of first class for the rest of the flight. The woman never came near us again, until we were getting off the plane. Then she took Doyle's hand, and said, voice urgent, "You will call me, won't you?"
Doyle kissed her hand. "Oh, yes, I will call, and you will answer every question that I put to you honestly, won't you?"
She nodded, tears trailing down her face. "Anything you want."
I had to drag Doyle away from her. I whispered, "I'd take a chaperone with me when you go to question her."
"I had not intended going alone," he said. He looked at me, our faces very close because we were whispering. "I learned very recently that I am not unaccessible to sexual advances." His look was very frank, open, the look I'd wanted on the plane. "I will have to be more careful in the future." With that he raised up, so that he was too tall for whispering, and began to walk down the narrow hallway toward the airport proper. I followed him.
We left the noise of engines behind and walked toward the sound of people.
Chapter 20
THE PEOPLE WERE A LARGE MURMUROUS NOISE THAT SWELLED TOWARD me and over me, as if I were being swallowed in a sea of noise as I walked down the concourse. The crowd walked back and forth at the opening like bits of multicolored debris, a wall of people. Doyle walked just ahead of me like an advance guard, which was exactly what he was.
Our gate was in line with the broad hallway that led deeper into the airport. Doyle was at the opening of the concourse, standing to one side, waiting for me. Then through the crowd I saw a tall figure come striding toward us. Galen was dressed in layers of green and white: pale green sweater, paler green pants, and an ankle-length white duster coat floating out behind him like a cape. The sweater matched his hair, which fell in short curls to just below his ear, except for one long thin braid. His father had been a pixie, whom the queen had had killed for the audacious crime of seducing one of her handmaidens.
I don't believe the queen would have killed the pixie if she'd known he'd begotten a child. Children are precious, and anything that breeds, that passes the blood along, is worth keeping around.