JК
Burnt Offerings :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 93 из 286"You little sonof bitch, you're an eavesdropper."
Willie stumbled. Hannah jerked back from him. "I am many things, Anita." Willie turned to us with that ancient intelligence burning in his eyes. "Why have you withheld this information from us, Jean-Claude?"
"You see us as a threat without this bit of information, Traveler. Do you blame me for hiding it from you?"
He gave a small smile that was both gentle and condescending. "No, I suppose I don't."
Jean-Claude gripped the hilt of the sword. He put his hand on Damian's chest to brace himself. His fingers brushed my hand. "You might wish to move your hand, ma petite . The sword is sharp."
I shook my head. "I'm going to make his heart beat. I can't do that if I'm not touching it."
Jean-Claude turned his head to one side, looking at me. "The magic grips you, ma petite , and you forget yourself. At least use your left hand."
He was right. The magic, for lack of a better word, was building. I'd never felt my own power so strongly outside of a blood sacrifice. Of course, there was plenty of blood, just none that I'd spilt myself. But I could sense Damian's heart inside his chest. It was almost as if I could have reached inside and caressed the muscle. Like I was not seeing it, but feeling it, and that wasn't it either. I had no word for it. It wasn't touch or sight, but I could feel it just the same. I pulled my right hand away and slipped my left over Damian's still heart.
"Are you ready, ma petite ?"
I nodded.
Jean-Claude rose on his knees. "I am the Master of the City. My blood you have drunk. My flesh you have touched. You are mine, Damian. You gave yourself willing to me. Come to me now, Damian. Rise to me now. Come to my hand." He tightened his grip on the blade. I felt Damian's body shift boneless as the dead.
I felt his heart, caressed it and it was cold, dead. "I am master of your heart, Damian," Jean-Claude said. "I will it to beat."
"We will make it beat," I said. My voice sounded distant, strange, not like my voice at all. Power breathed through me, through Damian, into Jean-Claude. I felt it spreading outward and knew that every corpse in the place would feel the rush.
"Now," I whispered.
Jean-Claude looked at me one last time, then turned all his attention to Damian. He yanked the blade out in one harsh motion.
Damian's essence tried to follow the blade out, tried to slip away through the wound. I felt it sliding away. I called to it, pressed it into the dead flesh, and it wasn't enough. I moved my hand over his heart.
Willie stumbled. Hannah jerked back from him. "I am many things, Anita." Willie turned to us with that ancient intelligence burning in his eyes. "Why have you withheld this information from us, Jean-Claude?"
"You see us as a threat without this bit of information, Traveler. Do you blame me for hiding it from you?"
He gave a small smile that was both gentle and condescending. "No, I suppose I don't."
Jean-Claude gripped the hilt of the sword. He put his hand on Damian's chest to brace himself. His fingers brushed my hand. "You might wish to move your hand, ma petite . The sword is sharp."
I shook my head. "I'm going to make his heart beat. I can't do that if I'm not touching it."
Jean-Claude turned his head to one side, looking at me. "The magic grips you, ma petite , and you forget yourself. At least use your left hand."
He was right. The magic, for lack of a better word, was building. I'd never felt my own power so strongly outside of a blood sacrifice. Of course, there was plenty of blood, just none that I'd spilt myself. But I could sense Damian's heart inside his chest. It was almost as if I could have reached inside and caressed the muscle. Like I was not seeing it, but feeling it, and that wasn't it either. I had no word for it. It wasn't touch or sight, but I could feel it just the same. I pulled my right hand away and slipped my left over Damian's still heart.
"Are you ready, ma petite ?"
I nodded.
Jean-Claude rose on his knees. "I am the Master of the City. My blood you have drunk. My flesh you have touched. You are mine, Damian. You gave yourself willing to me. Come to me now, Damian. Rise to me now. Come to my hand." He tightened his grip on the blade. I felt Damian's body shift boneless as the dead.
I felt his heart, caressed it and it was cold, dead. "I am master of your heart, Damian," Jean-Claude said. "I will it to beat."
"We will make it beat," I said. My voice sounded distant, strange, not like my voice at all. Power breathed through me, through Damian, into Jean-Claude. I felt it spreading outward and knew that every corpse in the place would feel the rush.
"Now," I whispered.
Jean-Claude looked at me one last time, then turned all his attention to Damian. He yanked the blade out in one harsh motion.
Damian's essence tried to follow the blade out, tried to slip away through the wound. I felt it sliding away. I called to it, pressed it into the dead flesh, and it wasn't enough. I moved my hand over his heart.