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Cerulean Sins :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 5 из 352I realized, suddenly, that he was trying not to spook me.
I let my gaze flick to his face. It was still bland, still unnaturally empty, but it also held something else… a trace of humor.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"I didn't know that coming to see you was tempting fate."
"What do you mean?" I was trying to hold on to that edge of tension, but it was slipping away. He sounded too ordinary, too suddenly real, for me to keep thinking about drawing a gun and shooting up my office. It suddenly seemed a little silly, and yet… looking into his dead eyes that humor never completely filled, it didn't seem all that silly.
"There are people all over the world who would love to see me dead, Ms. Blake. There are people who have spent considerable money and effort to see that such a thing would happen, but no one has come close, until today."
I shook my head. "This wasn't close."
"Normally, I'd agree with you, but I knew something of your reputation, so I didn't wear a gun in my usual manner. You noticed the weight of it when I bent forward that last time, didn't you?"
I nodded.
"If we'd had to draw down on each other, your holster is a few seconds faster than this inner jacket shit that I'm wearing."
"Then why wear it?" I asked.
"I didn't want to make you nervous by coming in here armed, but I don't go anywhere unarmed, so I thought I'd be slick, and you wouldn't notice."
"I almost didn't."
"Thanks for that, but we both know better."
I wasn't sure about that, but I let it go; no need to argue when I seemed to be winning.
"What do you really want, Mr. Harlan, if that is your real name?"
He smiled at that. "As I've said, I really do want my ancestor raised from the dead. I didn't lie about that." He seemed to think for a second. "Strange, but I haven't lied about anything." He looked puzzled. "It's been a long time since that was true."
"My condolences," I said.
He frowned at me. "What?"
"It must be difficult never being able to tell the truth. I know I'd find it exhausting."
He smiled, and again it was that slight flexing of lips that seemed to be his genuine smile. "I haven't thought about it in a long time." He shrugged. "I guess you get used to it."
It was my turn to shrug. "Maybe. What ancestor do you want raised, and why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you want to raise this particular ancestor?"
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"Yes.
I let my gaze flick to his face. It was still bland, still unnaturally empty, but it also held something else… a trace of humor.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"I didn't know that coming to see you was tempting fate."
"What do you mean?" I was trying to hold on to that edge of tension, but it was slipping away. He sounded too ordinary, too suddenly real, for me to keep thinking about drawing a gun and shooting up my office. It suddenly seemed a little silly, and yet… looking into his dead eyes that humor never completely filled, it didn't seem all that silly.
"There are people all over the world who would love to see me dead, Ms. Blake. There are people who have spent considerable money and effort to see that such a thing would happen, but no one has come close, until today."
I shook my head. "This wasn't close."
"Normally, I'd agree with you, but I knew something of your reputation, so I didn't wear a gun in my usual manner. You noticed the weight of it when I bent forward that last time, didn't you?"
I nodded.
"If we'd had to draw down on each other, your holster is a few seconds faster than this inner jacket shit that I'm wearing."
"Then why wear it?" I asked.
"I didn't want to make you nervous by coming in here armed, but I don't go anywhere unarmed, so I thought I'd be slick, and you wouldn't notice."
"I almost didn't."
"Thanks for that, but we both know better."
I wasn't sure about that, but I let it go; no need to argue when I seemed to be winning.
"What do you really want, Mr. Harlan, if that is your real name?"
He smiled at that. "As I've said, I really do want my ancestor raised from the dead. I didn't lie about that." He seemed to think for a second. "Strange, but I haven't lied about anything." He looked puzzled. "It's been a long time since that was true."
"My condolences," I said.
He frowned at me. "What?"
"It must be difficult never being able to tell the truth. I know I'd find it exhausting."
He smiled, and again it was that slight flexing of lips that seemed to be his genuine smile. "I haven't thought about it in a long time." He shrugged. "I guess you get used to it."
It was my turn to shrug. "Maybe. What ancestor do you want raised, and why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you want to raise this particular ancestor?"
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"Yes.