JК
The Laughing Corpse :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 141 из 213His paleskin had a certain flush to it. His curling black hair, carefully combed and styled, was rich and touchable. His eyes were just midnight-blue, nothing exceptional but the color. He was human again, in the blink of an eye.
"Jesus," I whispered.
"What is wrong, ma petite?"
I shook my head. If I asked how he did it, he'd just smile.
"Why all the questions, Jean-Claude? Why the worry about s my view of life?"
"You are my human servant." He raised a hand to stop the automatic objection. "I have begun the process of making you my human servant, and I would like to understand you better."
"Can't you just … scent my emotions like you can the people on the street?"
"No, ma petite. I can feel your desire but little else. I gave that up when I made you my marked servant."
"You can't read me?"
" No."
That was really nice to know. Jean-Claude didn't have to tell me. So why did he? He never gave anything away for free. There were strings attached that I couldn't even see. I s shook my head. "You are just to back me up tonight. Don't s do anything to anybody unless I say so, okay?"
"Do anything?"
"Don't hurt anyone unless they try to hurt us."
He nodded, face very solemn. Why did I suspect that he was laughing at me in some dark corner of his mind? Giving orders to the Master of the City. I guess it was funny.
The noise level on the sidewalk was intense. Music blared out of every other building. Never the same song, but always loud. The flashing signs proclaimed, "Girls, Girls, Girls. Topless." A pink-edged sign read, "Talk to the Naked Woman of Your Dreams." Eeek.
A tall, thin black woman came up to us. She was wearing purple shorts so short that they looked like a thong bikini. Black fishnet panty hose covered her legs and buttocks. Provocative.
She stopped somewhere between the two of us. Her eyes flicked from one to the other. "Which one of ya does it, and which one of ya watches?"
Jean-Claude and I exchanged glances. He was smiling ever so slightly. "Sorry, we were looking for Wanda," I said.
"A lot of names down here," she said. "I can do anything this Wanda can do, and do it better." She stepped very close to Jean-Claude, almost touching. He took her hand in his and lifted it gently to his lips. His eyes watched me as he did it.
"You're the doer," she said. Her voice had gone throaty, sexy. Or maybe that was just the effect Jean-Claude had on women. Maybe.
The woman cuddled in, against him.
"Jesus," I whispered.
"What is wrong, ma petite?"
I shook my head. If I asked how he did it, he'd just smile.
"Why all the questions, Jean-Claude? Why the worry about s my view of life?"
"You are my human servant." He raised a hand to stop the automatic objection. "I have begun the process of making you my human servant, and I would like to understand you better."
"Can't you just … scent my emotions like you can the people on the street?"
"No, ma petite. I can feel your desire but little else. I gave that up when I made you my marked servant."
"You can't read me?"
" No."
That was really nice to know. Jean-Claude didn't have to tell me. So why did he? He never gave anything away for free. There were strings attached that I couldn't even see. I s shook my head. "You are just to back me up tonight. Don't s do anything to anybody unless I say so, okay?"
"Do anything?"
"Don't hurt anyone unless they try to hurt us."
He nodded, face very solemn. Why did I suspect that he was laughing at me in some dark corner of his mind? Giving orders to the Master of the City. I guess it was funny.
The noise level on the sidewalk was intense. Music blared out of every other building. Never the same song, but always loud. The flashing signs proclaimed, "Girls, Girls, Girls. Topless." A pink-edged sign read, "Talk to the Naked Woman of Your Dreams." Eeek.
A tall, thin black woman came up to us. She was wearing purple shorts so short that they looked like a thong bikini. Black fishnet panty hose covered her legs and buttocks. Provocative.
She stopped somewhere between the two of us. Her eyes flicked from one to the other. "Which one of ya does it, and which one of ya watches?"
Jean-Claude and I exchanged glances. He was smiling ever so slightly. "Sorry, we were looking for Wanda," I said.
"A lot of names down here," she said. "I can do anything this Wanda can do, and do it better." She stepped very close to Jean-Claude, almost touching. He took her hand in his and lifted it gently to his lips. His eyes watched me as he did it.
"You're the doer," she said. Her voice had gone throaty, sexy. Or maybe that was just the effect Jean-Claude had on women. Maybe.
The woman cuddled in, against him.