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The Laughing Corpse :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 33 из 213But she simply placed the gris-gris on my open palm. Feathers, bits of bone, the dried hawk foot. It wasn't slimy. It didn't hurt. In fact, I felt a little silly.
Then I felt it warmth. The thing was warm, sitting there in my hand. It hadn't been warm a second ago. "What are you doing to it?"
Dominga didn't answer. I glanced up at her, but her eyes were staring at my hand, intent. Like a cat about to pounce.
I glanced back down. The talons flexed, then spread, then flexed. It was moving in my hand. "Shiiit!" I wanted to stand up. To fling the vile thing to the floor. But I didn't. I sat there with every hair on my body tingling, my pulse thudding in my throat, and let the thing move in my hand. "All right," my voice sounded breathy, "I've passed your little test. Now get this thing the hell out of my hand."
Dominga lifted the claw gently from my hand. She was careful not to touch my skin. I didn't know why, but it was a noticeable effort.
"Dammit, dammit!" I whispered under my breath. I rubbed my hand against my stomach, touching the gun hidden there. It was comforting to know that if worse came to worst, I could just shoot her. Before she scared me to death. "Can we get down to business now?" My voice sounded almost steady. Bully for me.
Dominga was cradling the claw in her hands. "You made the claw move. You were frightened, but not surprised. Why?"
What could I say? Nothing I wanted her to know. "I have an affinity with the dead. It responds to me like some people can read thoughts."
She smiled. "Do you really believe that your ability to raise the dead is like mind reading? Parlor tricks?"
Dominga had obviously never met a really good telepath. If she had, she wouldn't have been scornful: In their own way, they were just as scary as she was.
"I raise the dead, Seсora. It is just a job."
"You do not believe that any more than I do."
"I try real hard," I said.
"You've been tested before by someone." She made it a statement.
"My grandmother on my mother's side tested me, but not with that." I pointed to the still flexing foot. It looked like one of those fake hands that you can buy at Spencer's. Now that I wasn't holding it, I could pretend it just had tiny little batteries in it somewhere. Right.
"She was vaudun?"
I nodded.
"Why did you not study with her?"
"I have an inborn gift for raising the dead. That doesn't dictate my religious preferences."
"You are Christian." She made the word sound like something bad.
"That's it." I stood.
Then I felt it warmth. The thing was warm, sitting there in my hand. It hadn't been warm a second ago. "What are you doing to it?"
Dominga didn't answer. I glanced up at her, but her eyes were staring at my hand, intent. Like a cat about to pounce.
I glanced back down. The talons flexed, then spread, then flexed. It was moving in my hand. "Shiiit!" I wanted to stand up. To fling the vile thing to the floor. But I didn't. I sat there with every hair on my body tingling, my pulse thudding in my throat, and let the thing move in my hand. "All right," my voice sounded breathy, "I've passed your little test. Now get this thing the hell out of my hand."
Dominga lifted the claw gently from my hand. She was careful not to touch my skin. I didn't know why, but it was a noticeable effort.
"Dammit, dammit!" I whispered under my breath. I rubbed my hand against my stomach, touching the gun hidden there. It was comforting to know that if worse came to worst, I could just shoot her. Before she scared me to death. "Can we get down to business now?" My voice sounded almost steady. Bully for me.
Dominga was cradling the claw in her hands. "You made the claw move. You were frightened, but not surprised. Why?"
What could I say? Nothing I wanted her to know. "I have an affinity with the dead. It responds to me like some people can read thoughts."
She smiled. "Do you really believe that your ability to raise the dead is like mind reading? Parlor tricks?"
Dominga had obviously never met a really good telepath. If she had, she wouldn't have been scornful: In their own way, they were just as scary as she was.
"I raise the dead, Seсora. It is just a job."
"You do not believe that any more than I do."
"I try real hard," I said.
"You've been tested before by someone." She made it a statement.
"My grandmother on my mother's side tested me, but not with that." I pointed to the still flexing foot. It looked like one of those fake hands that you can buy at Spencer's. Now that I wasn't holding it, I could pretend it just had tiny little batteries in it somewhere. Right.
"She was vaudun?"
I nodded.
"Why did you not study with her?"
"I have an inborn gift for raising the dead. That doesn't dictate my religious preferences."
"You are Christian." She made the word sound like something bad.
"That's it." I stood.