JК
The Killing Dance :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 8 из 285" He heldmy hand and stared into my face as if he could read something there. "And do think about my offer to teach you. There are very few of us who are true necromancers."
I took back my hand. "I'll think about it. Now I really do have to go."
He smiled, held the door for Sabin, and out they went. Jean-Claude and I stood a moment in silence. I broke it first. "Can you trust them?"
Jean-Claude sat on the edge of my desk, smiling. "Of course not."
"Then why did you agree to let them come?"
"The council has declared that no master vampires in the United States may quarrel until that nasty law that is floating around Washington is dead. One undead war, and the anti-vampire lobby would push through the law and make us illegal again."
I shook my head. "I don't think Brewster's Law has a snowball's chance. Vampires are legal in the United States. Whether I agree with it or not, I don't think that's going to change."
"How can you be so sure?"
"It's sort of hard to say a group of beings is alive and has rights, then change your mind and say killing them on sight is okay again. The ACLU would have a field day."
He smiled. "Perhaps. Regardless, the council has forced a truce on all of us until the law is decided one way or another."
"So you can let Sabin in your territory, because if he misbehaves, the council will hunt him down and kill him."
Jean-Claude nodded.
"But you'd still be dead," I said.
He spread his hands, graceful, empty. "Nothing's perfect."
I laughed. "I guess not."
"Now, aren't you going to be late for your date with Monsieur Zeeman?"
"You're being awfully civilized about this," I said.
"Tomorrow night you will be with me, Ma petite . I would be a poor. . sport to begrudge Richard his night."
"You're usually a poor sport."
"Now, ma petite, that is hardly fair. Richard is not dead, is he?"
"Only because you know that if you kill him, I'll kill you." I held a hand up before he could say it. "I'd try to kill you, and you'd try to kill me, etc." This was an old argument.
"So, Richard lives, you date us both, and I am being patient. More patient than I have ever been with anyone."
I studied his face. He was one of those men who was beautiful rather than handsome, but the face was masculine; you wouldn't mistake him for female, even with the long hair. In fact, there was something terribly masculine about Jean-Claude, no matter how much lace he wore.
He could be mine: lock, stock, and fangs.
I took back my hand. "I'll think about it. Now I really do have to go."
He smiled, held the door for Sabin, and out they went. Jean-Claude and I stood a moment in silence. I broke it first. "Can you trust them?"
Jean-Claude sat on the edge of my desk, smiling. "Of course not."
"Then why did you agree to let them come?"
"The council has declared that no master vampires in the United States may quarrel until that nasty law that is floating around Washington is dead. One undead war, and the anti-vampire lobby would push through the law and make us illegal again."
I shook my head. "I don't think Brewster's Law has a snowball's chance. Vampires are legal in the United States. Whether I agree with it or not, I don't think that's going to change."
"How can you be so sure?"
"It's sort of hard to say a group of beings is alive and has rights, then change your mind and say killing them on sight is okay again. The ACLU would have a field day."
He smiled. "Perhaps. Regardless, the council has forced a truce on all of us until the law is decided one way or another."
"So you can let Sabin in your territory, because if he misbehaves, the council will hunt him down and kill him."
Jean-Claude nodded.
"But you'd still be dead," I said.
He spread his hands, graceful, empty. "Nothing's perfect."
I laughed. "I guess not."
"Now, aren't you going to be late for your date with Monsieur Zeeman?"
"You're being awfully civilized about this," I said.
"Tomorrow night you will be with me, Ma petite . I would be a poor. . sport to begrudge Richard his night."
"You're usually a poor sport."
"Now, ma petite, that is hardly fair. Richard is not dead, is he?"
"Only because you know that if you kill him, I'll kill you." I held a hand up before he could say it. "I'd try to kill you, and you'd try to kill me, etc." This was an old argument.
"So, Richard lives, you date us both, and I am being patient. More patient than I have ever been with anyone."
I studied his face. He was one of those men who was beautiful rather than handsome, but the face was masculine; you wouldn't mistake him for female, even with the long hair. In fact, there was something terribly masculine about Jean-Claude, no matter how much lace he wore.
He could be mine: lock, stock, and fangs.