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A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 171 из 338"
Barinthus said, "Do not beflippant, Galen."
"Wow," Galen said, "the mood has plummeted. What were you two talking about behind my back?"
"Where's Doyle?" I asked.
Galen's smile wilted a little round the edges. "He's gone to report to the queen." His smile flashed back into place. "Your safety is now our concern." Something must have passed on my face, or Barinthus's, because Galen asked, "What is wrong?"
I glanced in the shiny mirrored surface in front of us. Jenkins was just outside the barrier for the carousel. He was staying back his fifty feet, more or less. Certainly far enough away that I couldn't have him arrested.
"Not here, Galen."
Galen glanced, too, and saw Jenkins. "He really hates you, doesn't he?"
"Yes," I said.
"I've never understood his animosity toward you," Barinthus said. "Even when you were a child, he seemed to despise you."
"It does seem to have become personal, doesn't it?"
"Do you know why it's so personal for him?" Galen asked, and there was something in the way he asked it that made me look away, to avoid his eyes.
My aunt had decreed years before I was born that we could not use our darkest powers in front of a member of the press. I'd broken that rule only once, for Jenkins's personal edification. My only excuse was that I'd been eighteen when my father died. Eighteen when Jenkins plastered my pain across the media of the world. I'd pulled his darkest fears from his mind and paraded them before his eyes. I'd made him shriek and beg. I'd left him a quivering mass curled beside a lonely country road. For a few months he'd been kinder, gentler, then he'd come back with a vengeance. Meaner, harsher, more willing to do anything to get a story than he was before. He'd told me that the only way I could stop him was to kill him. I hadn't tamed him, I'd made him worse. Jenkins was what helped me learn the lesson that you either kill your enemies or you leave them the fuck alone.
My suitcase was one of the first to come sliding along the carousel. Galen picked it up. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."
I looked at him. If it had just been Galen, I might have believed it, but Barinthus wouldn't do the publicity stunts, and a chariot was definitely a stunt.
"Queen Andais sent her own personal car for you," Barinthus said.
I glanced from one to the other of them. "She sent the black coach of the wild hunt for me? Why?"
"Until dark this evening," Barinthus said, "it is merely a car, a limousine.
Barinthus said, "Do not beflippant, Galen."
"Wow," Galen said, "the mood has plummeted. What were you two talking about behind my back?"
"Where's Doyle?" I asked.
Galen's smile wilted a little round the edges. "He's gone to report to the queen." His smile flashed back into place. "Your safety is now our concern." Something must have passed on my face, or Barinthus's, because Galen asked, "What is wrong?"
I glanced in the shiny mirrored surface in front of us. Jenkins was just outside the barrier for the carousel. He was staying back his fifty feet, more or less. Certainly far enough away that I couldn't have him arrested.
"Not here, Galen."
Galen glanced, too, and saw Jenkins. "He really hates you, doesn't he?"
"Yes," I said.
"I've never understood his animosity toward you," Barinthus said. "Even when you were a child, he seemed to despise you."
"It does seem to have become personal, doesn't it?"
"Do you know why it's so personal for him?" Galen asked, and there was something in the way he asked it that made me look away, to avoid his eyes.
My aunt had decreed years before I was born that we could not use our darkest powers in front of a member of the press. I'd broken that rule only once, for Jenkins's personal edification. My only excuse was that I'd been eighteen when my father died. Eighteen when Jenkins plastered my pain across the media of the world. I'd pulled his darkest fears from his mind and paraded them before his eyes. I'd made him shriek and beg. I'd left him a quivering mass curled beside a lonely country road. For a few months he'd been kinder, gentler, then he'd come back with a vengeance. Meaner, harsher, more willing to do anything to get a story than he was before. He'd told me that the only way I could stop him was to kill him. I hadn't tamed him, I'd made him worse. Jenkins was what helped me learn the lesson that you either kill your enemies or you leave them the fuck alone.
My suitcase was one of the first to come sliding along the carousel. Galen picked it up. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."
I looked at him. If it had just been Galen, I might have believed it, but Barinthus wouldn't do the publicity stunts, and a chariot was definitely a stunt.
"Queen Andais sent her own personal car for you," Barinthus said.
I glanced from one to the other of them. "She sent the black coach of the wild hunt for me? Why?"
"Until dark this evening," Barinthus said, "it is merely a car, a limousine.