JК
Danse Macabre :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 67 из 427I gave him the kiss he'd wanted. The fresh blood didn't make it horrible, he was a vampire and… Roses, roses on the air like some cloying perfume. I was drowning in the scent of it, so that as I kissed him, the blood tasted of roses.
Auggie jerked back from me. «Roses, oh, God, you taste of roses.» He pulled back enough to see my face, and the fear showed on his face. «Your eyes, Anita, your eyes.»
I'd seen Belle Morte's eyes in my face before. Her pale brown eyes like dark honey filled with fire. I stared up at Auggie with her eyes, and she saw him, too. While her dark light filled my eyes she saw what I saw.
She whispered through my mind, «Did you truly believe that Jean-Claude being a sourdre de sang would keep you safe from me, Anita?»
Yeah, actually, I had. She knew, and thought it was funny as hell. «What do you want?» I asked. Fear like fine champagne was tingling through my body. The ardeur , the beast, all of it, was washed away under that rush of fear.
She gazed up at Auggie, kneeling above us, and I knew what she wanted. I felt regret in her. Regret that Auggie had gone from her bed and her body. «But you exiled him,» I said.
«Stay out of my thoughts, Anita.» She was sitting on the edge of her huge four-poster bed. A bed I'd seen once before in Jean-Claude's memories. She was curled there, a white gown centuries out of date covering the lushness of her body, so that she looked petite, like a dainty pouting child as she leaned against the carved wood. Her hair was a wealth of dark waves longer than my own. For the first time I realized that we looked at least superficially alike. Petite brunettes with ice-pale skin, and brown eyes.
«I was the greatest beauty in all of Europe; how dare you compare yourself to me?» Her power lashed through me, like the sharp blow of a whip.
«Forgive me,» I said, because I'd meant no disrespect. I hadn't meant I was as beautiful as she, only that we shared some traits.
The thought mollified her, but it also freed her to concentrate on why she'd entered me in the first place. Not good. «Augustine,» she said, her voice spilling in a lower alto purr than my normal voice. It wasn't her voice exactly, because she had to use my throat, but it wasn't my voice either. It was close enough to hers to widen Auggie's eyes, and make him go paler than death itself. I don't know if I'd ever seen a vampire go pale before.
«How is this possible?» he whispered.
«You called me,» she said with my lips. «Your power and your blood called me.
Auggie jerked back from me. «Roses, oh, God, you taste of roses.» He pulled back enough to see my face, and the fear showed on his face. «Your eyes, Anita, your eyes.»
I'd seen Belle Morte's eyes in my face before. Her pale brown eyes like dark honey filled with fire. I stared up at Auggie with her eyes, and she saw him, too. While her dark light filled my eyes she saw what I saw.
She whispered through my mind, «Did you truly believe that Jean-Claude being a sourdre de sang would keep you safe from me, Anita?»
Yeah, actually, I had. She knew, and thought it was funny as hell. «What do you want?» I asked. Fear like fine champagne was tingling through my body. The ardeur , the beast, all of it, was washed away under that rush of fear.
She gazed up at Auggie, kneeling above us, and I knew what she wanted. I felt regret in her. Regret that Auggie had gone from her bed and her body. «But you exiled him,» I said.
«Stay out of my thoughts, Anita.» She was sitting on the edge of her huge four-poster bed. A bed I'd seen once before in Jean-Claude's memories. She was curled there, a white gown centuries out of date covering the lushness of her body, so that she looked petite, like a dainty pouting child as she leaned against the carved wood. Her hair was a wealth of dark waves longer than my own. For the first time I realized that we looked at least superficially alike. Petite brunettes with ice-pale skin, and brown eyes.
«I was the greatest beauty in all of Europe; how dare you compare yourself to me?» Her power lashed through me, like the sharp blow of a whip.
«Forgive me,» I said, because I'd meant no disrespect. I hadn't meant I was as beautiful as she, only that we shared some traits.
The thought mollified her, but it also freed her to concentrate on why she'd entered me in the first place. Not good. «Augustine,» she said, her voice spilling in a lower alto purr than my normal voice. It wasn't her voice exactly, because she had to use my throat, but it wasn't my voice either. It was close enough to hers to widen Auggie's eyes, and make him go paler than death itself. I don't know if I'd ever seen a vampire go pale before.
«How is this possible?» he whispered.
«You called me,» she said with my lips. «Your power and your blood called me.