JК
Danse Macabre :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 69 из 427The real thing roared over me, tore a scream from my mouth, and Auggie echoed me.
Her power tried to spill out from us, tried to fill the room and touch everything near us. Auggie threw up a wall around it. He used his will, his power as a Master of the City to hold it back. But it wouldn't last for long. I tried to call necromancy. I'd used it to chase her out before, but I couldn't shut down the ardeur . Until that was cleared, I was useless.
He found his words before I did. «Everyone out, out, all of you. We can't hold it like this for long. When we lose control it will fill this room.»
«It spreads by touch,» Micah said.
Auggie shook his head. «This isn't Jean-Claude's ardeur , this is Belle's. Proximity is enough.» He shuddered, shoulders hunching as if some great weight were beginning to crush him. «Samuel, get your family out. You don't know what this could make you do.»
A voice from behind us, with more French accent than I usually heard in it, said, «Augustine, what have you done to ma petite ? The power, she presses…«I looked at him, and the words stopped. «Belle Morte.» He said it, flat, as if he'd just swallowed all the emotion he had.
He was dressed in his signature colors, black and white. A black velvet jacket barely touched the top of his waist. The white lace of his shirt spilled out between that blackness, held at the neck by the cameo that had been one of my first presents to him. The pants were leather and looked poured on. The knee-high black boots were some of the plainest he owned. Of course with his body gliding toward us there was nothing plain about him. We both knew the potential of his body too intimately to ever believe such simple camouflage. Because it was a we . And because it was a we , she knew why Jean-Claude had his black curls pulled back in a ponytail. She knew why the clothes were elegant but some of his least expensive. Why he wore almost no jewelry. He had planned to appear as the visiting masters had last seen him. He was going to hide what he truly was, let them wonder about his power. It was a gamble that I had disagreed with. I thought it was like baiting them. Look how powerless I am, try me . Jean-Claude said that he had never gotten in trouble when dealing with other masters by hiding some of his abilities. It was a strategy that had saved his life in the past.
She used me to say, «I see you Jean-Claude. All these simple games do not hide you from Belle Morte. But you were right to come humble before me, as I like my men.
Her power tried to spill out from us, tried to fill the room and touch everything near us. Auggie threw up a wall around it. He used his will, his power as a Master of the City to hold it back. But it wouldn't last for long. I tried to call necromancy. I'd used it to chase her out before, but I couldn't shut down the ardeur . Until that was cleared, I was useless.
He found his words before I did. «Everyone out, out, all of you. We can't hold it like this for long. When we lose control it will fill this room.»
«It spreads by touch,» Micah said.
Auggie shook his head. «This isn't Jean-Claude's ardeur , this is Belle's. Proximity is enough.» He shuddered, shoulders hunching as if some great weight were beginning to crush him. «Samuel, get your family out. You don't know what this could make you do.»
A voice from behind us, with more French accent than I usually heard in it, said, «Augustine, what have you done to ma petite ? The power, she presses…«I looked at him, and the words stopped. «Belle Morte.» He said it, flat, as if he'd just swallowed all the emotion he had.
He was dressed in his signature colors, black and white. A black velvet jacket barely touched the top of his waist. The white lace of his shirt spilled out between that blackness, held at the neck by the cameo that had been one of my first presents to him. The pants were leather and looked poured on. The knee-high black boots were some of the plainest he owned. Of course with his body gliding toward us there was nothing plain about him. We both knew the potential of his body too intimately to ever believe such simple camouflage. Because it was a we . And because it was a we , she knew why Jean-Claude had his black curls pulled back in a ponytail. She knew why the clothes were elegant but some of his least expensive. Why he wore almost no jewelry. He had planned to appear as the visiting masters had last seen him. He was going to hide what he truly was, let them wonder about his power. It was a gamble that I had disagreed with. I thought it was like baiting them. Look how powerless I am, try me . Jean-Claude said that he had never gotten in trouble when dealing with other masters by hiding some of his abilities. It was a strategy that had saved his life in the past.
She used me to say, «I see you Jean-Claude. All these simple games do not hide you from Belle Morte. But you were right to come humble before me, as I like my men.