JК
Circus of the Damned :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 11 из 210There's always the possibility we've got someone new in town, but the Master of the City should be able to police that."
"We'll take the head of the Church of Eternal Life," Dolph said.
"I'll take the Master," I said.
"Take one of us with you for backup."
I shook my head. "Can't; if he knew I let the cops know who he was, he'd kill us both."
"How dangerous is it for you to do this?" Dolph asked.
What was I supposed to say? Very? Or did I tell them the Master had the hots for me, so I'd probably be okay? Neither. "I'll be all right."
He stared at me, eyes very serious.
"Besides, what choice do we have?" I motioned at the corpse. "We'll get one of these a night until we find the vampires responsible. One of us has to talk to the Master. He won't talk to police, but he will talk to me."
Dolph took a deep breath and let it out. He nodded. He knew I was right. "When can you do it?"
"Tomorrow night, if I can talk Bert into giving my zombie appointments to someone else."
"You're that sure the Master will talk to you?"
"Yeah." The problem with Jean-Claude was not getting to see him, it was avoiding him. But Dolph didn't know that, and if he did, he might have insisted on going with me. And gotten us both killed.
"Do it," he said. "Let me know what you find out."
"Will do," I said. I stood up, facing him over the bloodless corpse.
"Watch your back," he said.
"Always."
"If the Master eats you, can I have your nifty coveralls?" Zerbrowski asked.
"Buy your own, you cheap bastard."
"I'd rather have the ones that have enveloped your luscious body."
"Give it a rest, Zerbrowski. I'm not into little choo-choos."
"What the hell do trains have to do with anything?" Dolph asked.
Zerbrowski and I looked at each other. We started giggling and couldn't stop. I could claim sleep deprivation. I'd been on my feet for fourteen straight hours, raising the dead and talking to right-wing fruitcakes. The vampire victim was a perfect end to a perfect night. I had a right to be hysterical with laughter. I don't know what Zerbrowski's excuse was.
3
There are a handful of days in October that are nearly perfect. The sky stretches overhead in a clear blue, so deep and perfect that it makes everything else prettier. The trees along the highway are crimson, gold, rust, burgundy, orange. Every color is neon-bright, pulsing in the heavy golden sunlight. The air is cool but not cold; by noon you can wear just a light jacket.
"We'll take the head of the Church of Eternal Life," Dolph said.
"I'll take the Master," I said.
"Take one of us with you for backup."
I shook my head. "Can't; if he knew I let the cops know who he was, he'd kill us both."
"How dangerous is it for you to do this?" Dolph asked.
What was I supposed to say? Very? Or did I tell them the Master had the hots for me, so I'd probably be okay? Neither. "I'll be all right."
He stared at me, eyes very serious.
"Besides, what choice do we have?" I motioned at the corpse. "We'll get one of these a night until we find the vampires responsible. One of us has to talk to the Master. He won't talk to police, but he will talk to me."
Dolph took a deep breath and let it out. He nodded. He knew I was right. "When can you do it?"
"Tomorrow night, if I can talk Bert into giving my zombie appointments to someone else."
"You're that sure the Master will talk to you?"
"Yeah." The problem with Jean-Claude was not getting to see him, it was avoiding him. But Dolph didn't know that, and if he did, he might have insisted on going with me. And gotten us both killed.
"Do it," he said. "Let me know what you find out."
"Will do," I said. I stood up, facing him over the bloodless corpse.
"Watch your back," he said.
"Always."
"If the Master eats you, can I have your nifty coveralls?" Zerbrowski asked.
"Buy your own, you cheap bastard."
"I'd rather have the ones that have enveloped your luscious body."
"Give it a rest, Zerbrowski. I'm not into little choo-choos."
"What the hell do trains have to do with anything?" Dolph asked.
Zerbrowski and I looked at each other. We started giggling and couldn't stop. I could claim sleep deprivation. I'd been on my feet for fourteen straight hours, raising the dead and talking to right-wing fruitcakes. The vampire victim was a perfect end to a perfect night. I had a right to be hysterical with laughter. I don't know what Zerbrowski's excuse was.
3
There are a handful of days in October that are nearly perfect. The sky stretches overhead in a clear blue, so deep and perfect that it makes everything else prettier. The trees along the highway are crimson, gold, rust, burgundy, orange. Every color is neon-bright, pulsing in the heavy golden sunlight. The air is cool but not cold; by noon you can wear just a light jacket.