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The Killing Dance :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 4 из 285But it wasnot enough to sustain me."
I stared into that darkness. I kept pointing the gun, but I was beginning to feel silly. Sabin didn't seem at all afraid of it, which was unnerving. Maybe he didn't care. That was also unnerving. "She talked you into going vegetarian. Great," I said. "You seem powerful enough."
He laughed, and with the laughter, the shadows in his hood faded slowly, like a curtain lifting. He threw it back in one quick flourish.
I didn't scream, but I gasped and took a step back. I couldn't help myself. When I realized I'd done it, I stopped and made myself take back that step, meet his eyes. No flinching.
His hair was thick and straight and golden, falling like a shining curtain to his shoulders. But his skin. . his skin had rotted away on half his face. It was like late-stage leprosy, but worse. The flesh was puss-filled, gangrenous, and should have stunk to high heaven. The other half of his face was still beautiful. The kind of face that medieval painters had borrowed for cherubim, a golden perfection. One crystalline blue eye rolled in its rotting socket as if in danger of spilling out onto his cheek. The other eye was secure and watched my face.
"You can put up the gun, Ma petite . It was an accident, after all," Jean-Claude said.
I lowered the Browning, but didn't put it up. It took more effort than was pretty to say calmly, "This happened because you stopped feeding off of humans?"
"We believe so," Dumare said.
I tore my gaze away from Sabin's ravaged face and looked back at Dominic. "You think I can help cure him of this?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice.
"I heard of your reputation in Europe."
I raised my eyebrows.
"No modesty, Ms. Blake. Among those of us who notice such things, you are gaining a certain notoriety."
Notoriety, not fame. Hmmm.
"Put the gun away, Ma petite . Sabin has done all the—what is your word—grandstanding he will do tonight. Haven't you Sabin?"
"I fear so, it all seems to go so badly now."
I holstered the gun and shook my head. "I honestly don't have the faintest idea how to help you."
"If you knew how, would you help me?" Sabin asked.
I looked at him and nodded. "Yes."
"Even though I am a vampire and you are a vampire executioner."
"Have you done anything in this country that you need killing for?"
Sabin laughed. The rotting skin stretched, and a ligament popped with a wet snap. I had to look away. "Not yet, Ms. Blake, not yet.
I stared into that darkness. I kept pointing the gun, but I was beginning to feel silly. Sabin didn't seem at all afraid of it, which was unnerving. Maybe he didn't care. That was also unnerving. "She talked you into going vegetarian. Great," I said. "You seem powerful enough."
He laughed, and with the laughter, the shadows in his hood faded slowly, like a curtain lifting. He threw it back in one quick flourish.
I didn't scream, but I gasped and took a step back. I couldn't help myself. When I realized I'd done it, I stopped and made myself take back that step, meet his eyes. No flinching.
His hair was thick and straight and golden, falling like a shining curtain to his shoulders. But his skin. . his skin had rotted away on half his face. It was like late-stage leprosy, but worse. The flesh was puss-filled, gangrenous, and should have stunk to high heaven. The other half of his face was still beautiful. The kind of face that medieval painters had borrowed for cherubim, a golden perfection. One crystalline blue eye rolled in its rotting socket as if in danger of spilling out onto his cheek. The other eye was secure and watched my face.
"You can put up the gun, Ma petite . It was an accident, after all," Jean-Claude said.
I lowered the Browning, but didn't put it up. It took more effort than was pretty to say calmly, "This happened because you stopped feeding off of humans?"
"We believe so," Dumare said.
I tore my gaze away from Sabin's ravaged face and looked back at Dominic. "You think I can help cure him of this?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice.
"I heard of your reputation in Europe."
I raised my eyebrows.
"No modesty, Ms. Blake. Among those of us who notice such things, you are gaining a certain notoriety."
Notoriety, not fame. Hmmm.
"Put the gun away, Ma petite . Sabin has done all the—what is your word—grandstanding he will do tonight. Haven't you Sabin?"
"I fear so, it all seems to go so badly now."
I holstered the gun and shook my head. "I honestly don't have the faintest idea how to help you."
"If you knew how, would you help me?" Sabin asked.
I looked at him and nodded. "Yes."
"Even though I am a vampire and you are a vampire executioner."
"Have you done anything in this country that you need killing for?"
Sabin laughed. The rotting skin stretched, and a ligament popped with a wet snap. I had to look away. "Not yet, Ms. Blake, not yet.