JК
Cerulean Sins :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 49 из 352I was suddenly overwhelmed with a memorythat was not mine.
Asher lying on the floor of the torture room, freed of the silver chains, the men who had tormented him slaughtered around him, in an explosion of blood. He reached out to us, his face… his face…
I swooned, and Jean-Claude and I fell in a heap on the floor, because I was experiencing directly what he was remembering.
Damian and Jason moved up beside us, but Asher stayed well back. I didn't blame him in the least.
8
"Asher, come and see your gift," Musette called.
Damian was already on the ground beside me, his hands on my shoulders, fingers digging in. I think he was afraid of what I would do. He should have been.
Asher's voice came strained, but clear, "I have seen that particular gift before. I know it well."
"Do you wish us to return to Belle Morte and tell her you did not appreciate her gift?"
"You may tell Belle Morte, that I have gotten exactly what she wished me to get out of her gifts."
"And what is that?"
"I am reminded of what I was, and of what I am."
I got to my feet, Damian still with a death grip on my shoulders. Jean-Claude rose gracefully like a puppet pulled by invisible strings. I would never be that graceful, but tonight it didn't matter.
Musette turned back to Jean-Claude. "We have given our gift to you Jean-Claude, and to Asher. We await our guest gifts."
His voice was empty, so bland it was like listening to silence. "I have told you, Musette, our guest gifts are weeks away from completion."
"I'm sure you can find something to stand in their stead." She stared at me.
I found my voice, and it wasn't bland. "How dare you come here three months early, knowing we won't be prepared and make demands on us?" Damian was clinging to my back a little frantically, but I was polite, for me. After what she and Belle Morte had just done, I was downright kind. "Your rudeness will not be used as an excuse to force us to do anything we don't want to do."
Damian's arms slid over my shoulders so he was cradling me against his body. I didn't fight it, because without his presence I think I would probably have struck her, or shot her. Which sounded like such a good idea.
Jean-Claude tried to smooth things over, but Musette waved him aside. "Let your servant talk, if she has something to say."
I opened my mouth to call her a heartless bitch, but it wasn't what came out.
Asher lying on the floor of the torture room, freed of the silver chains, the men who had tormented him slaughtered around him, in an explosion of blood. He reached out to us, his face… his face…
I swooned, and Jean-Claude and I fell in a heap on the floor, because I was experiencing directly what he was remembering.
Damian and Jason moved up beside us, but Asher stayed well back. I didn't blame him in the least.
8
"Asher, come and see your gift," Musette called.
Damian was already on the ground beside me, his hands on my shoulders, fingers digging in. I think he was afraid of what I would do. He should have been.
Asher's voice came strained, but clear, "I have seen that particular gift before. I know it well."
"Do you wish us to return to Belle Morte and tell her you did not appreciate her gift?"
"You may tell Belle Morte, that I have gotten exactly what she wished me to get out of her gifts."
"And what is that?"
"I am reminded of what I was, and of what I am."
I got to my feet, Damian still with a death grip on my shoulders. Jean-Claude rose gracefully like a puppet pulled by invisible strings. I would never be that graceful, but tonight it didn't matter.
Musette turned back to Jean-Claude. "We have given our gift to you Jean-Claude, and to Asher. We await our guest gifts."
His voice was empty, so bland it was like listening to silence. "I have told you, Musette, our guest gifts are weeks away from completion."
"I'm sure you can find something to stand in their stead." She stared at me.
I found my voice, and it wasn't bland. "How dare you come here three months early, knowing we won't be prepared and make demands on us?" Damian was clinging to my back a little frantically, but I was polite, for me. After what she and Belle Morte had just done, I was downright kind. "Your rudeness will not be used as an excuse to force us to do anything we don't want to do."
Damian's arms slid over my shoulders so he was cradling me against his body. I didn't fight it, because without his presence I think I would probably have struck her, or shot her. Which sounded like such a good idea.
Jean-Claude tried to smooth things over, but Musette waved him aside. "Let your servant talk, if she has something to say."
I opened my mouth to call her a heartless bitch, but it wasn't what came out.