JК
Bloody Bones :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 87 из 272Hard to check for a pulse in the dark on a throatwarm with blood; better to use your dominant hand.
"I've got a pulse." He looked up, his broad smile a dim whiteness in the dark.
"Coltrain's dead," St. John said. "God help me, he's dead." He raised a hand and the skin glistened with blood, black in the dim light. "He's nearly decapitated. What did this?"
"Sword," I said. I'd seen it. Watched it happen. But all I could remember was a black shape larger than a human being. Or larger than most. A shadow with a sword was all I'd seen, and I'd been looking right at it.
Something flowed across my skin, and it wasn't the wind. Power filled the spring night like water. "There's something old out here," I said.
"What are you talking about?" St. John said.
"An ancient vampire. It's here. I can feel it." I searched the darkness, but nothing moved but the trees, the wind. There was nothing to see. Nothing to fight. But it was here and it was close. Sword in hand, maybe.
Granger sat up so suddenly that Larry fell back into the leaves with a squeak. The big man's eyes turned to me. I saw his hand go for his gun, and I knew what the vampire was doing.
I pointed the Browning at his head and waited. I had to be sure.
Granger didn't hunt for his dropped rifle. He drew his sidearm and pointed it very slowly, as if he didn't want to do it. He pointed it at Larry from less than a foot away.
Wallace yelled, "Granger, what the fuck are you doing?"
I fired.
Granger jerked; the gun wavered, then his hand came back up. I fired again, and again. His hand fell slowly to the ground, gun still in it. He fell straight back into the leaves.
"Granger!" Wallace was screaming, crawling toward his partner. Shit.
I got there first and kicked the gun out of his hand. If he'd twitched, I'd have shot him again. He didn't twitch. He just lay there, dead.
Wallace tried to cradle him one-handed. "Why'd you shoot him? Why?"
"He was going to kill Larry. You saw it."
"Why?"
"The vamp that bit him. His master is out here. And he's a powerful son of a bitch. He used him."
Wallace had Granger's bloody head in his lap, his own ravaged arm pressed to Granger's chest. He was crying.
Shit.
A sound rode the rising wind. A sharp, furious barking. A woman's scream, high and clear, cut across the sound.
"Oh, God," I whispered.
"Beth." St. John was on his feet running before I could say anything.
I grabbed Wallace's shoulder, pulling on his jacket. He looked up.
"I've got a pulse." He looked up, his broad smile a dim whiteness in the dark.
"Coltrain's dead," St. John said. "God help me, he's dead." He raised a hand and the skin glistened with blood, black in the dim light. "He's nearly decapitated. What did this?"
"Sword," I said. I'd seen it. Watched it happen. But all I could remember was a black shape larger than a human being. Or larger than most. A shadow with a sword was all I'd seen, and I'd been looking right at it.
Something flowed across my skin, and it wasn't the wind. Power filled the spring night like water. "There's something old out here," I said.
"What are you talking about?" St. John said.
"An ancient vampire. It's here. I can feel it." I searched the darkness, but nothing moved but the trees, the wind. There was nothing to see. Nothing to fight. But it was here and it was close. Sword in hand, maybe.
Granger sat up so suddenly that Larry fell back into the leaves with a squeak. The big man's eyes turned to me. I saw his hand go for his gun, and I knew what the vampire was doing.
I pointed the Browning at his head and waited. I had to be sure.
Granger didn't hunt for his dropped rifle. He drew his sidearm and pointed it very slowly, as if he didn't want to do it. He pointed it at Larry from less than a foot away.
Wallace yelled, "Granger, what the fuck are you doing?"
I fired.
Granger jerked; the gun wavered, then his hand came back up. I fired again, and again. His hand fell slowly to the ground, gun still in it. He fell straight back into the leaves.
"Granger!" Wallace was screaming, crawling toward his partner. Shit.
I got there first and kicked the gun out of his hand. If he'd twitched, I'd have shot him again. He didn't twitch. He just lay there, dead.
Wallace tried to cradle him one-handed. "Why'd you shoot him? Why?"
"He was going to kill Larry. You saw it."
"Why?"
"The vamp that bit him. His master is out here. And he's a powerful son of a bitch. He used him."
Wallace had Granger's bloody head in his lap, his own ravaged arm pressed to Granger's chest. He was crying.
Shit.
A sound rode the rising wind. A sharp, furious barking. A woman's scream, high and clear, cut across the sound.
"Oh, God," I whispered.
"Beth." St. John was on his feet running before I could say anything.
I grabbed Wallace's shoulder, pulling on his jacket. He looked up.