JК
Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 203 из 205I cut the gris-gris off with my knife, balled it in my hand, and shoved itin my pocket. Evil piece of work.
Lillian came to bind my arm up. “This is just temporary. You'll, need stitches.”
I nodded and got to my feet.
Edward called, “Where are you going?”
“To get the rest of our guns.” To find Jean-Claude. I didn't say that part out loud. I didn't think Edward would understand.
Two of the ratmen went with me. That was fine. They could come as long as they didn't interfere. Phillip was still huddled in, the corner. I left him there.
I did get the guns. I strung the machine gun over my shoulders and kept the shotgun in my hands. Loaded for bear. I had killed a one-thousand-year-old vampire. Naw, not me. Surely not.
The ratmen and I found the punishment room. There were six coffins in it. Each had a blessed cross on its lid and silver chains to hold the lid down. The third coffin held Willie, so deeply asleep that he seemed like he would never wake. I left him like that, to wake with the night. To go on about his business. Willie wasn't a bad person. And for a vampire he was excellent.
All the other coffins were empty, only the last one still unopened … I undid the chains and laid the cross on the ground. Jean-Claude stared up at me. His eyes were midnight fire, his smile gentle. I flashed on the first dream and the coffin filled with blood, him reaching for me. I stepped back, and he rose from the coffin.
The ratmen stepped back, hissing.
“It's all right,” I said. “He's sort of on our side.”
He stepped from the coffin like he'd had a good nap. He smiled and extended a hand. “I knew you would do it, ma petite.”
“You arrogant son of a bitch.” I smashed the shotgun butt into his stomach. He doubled over just enough. I hit him in the jaw. He rocked back. “Get out of my mind!”
He rubbed his face and came away with blood. “The marks are permanent, Anita. I cannot take them back.”
I gripped the shotgun until my hands ached. Blood began to trickle down my arm from the wound. I thought about it. For one moment, I considered blowing his perfect face away. I didn't do it. I would probably regret it later.
“Can you stay out of my dreams, at least?” I asked.
“That, I can do. I am sorry, ma petite.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He shrugged. His black hair had nearly crimson highlights in the torchlight. Breathtaking. “Stop playing with my mind, Jean-Claude.”
“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.
“I know that the otherworldly beauty is a trick. So stop it.
Lillian came to bind my arm up. “This is just temporary. You'll, need stitches.”
I nodded and got to my feet.
Edward called, “Where are you going?”
“To get the rest of our guns.” To find Jean-Claude. I didn't say that part out loud. I didn't think Edward would understand.
Two of the ratmen went with me. That was fine. They could come as long as they didn't interfere. Phillip was still huddled in, the corner. I left him there.
I did get the guns. I strung the machine gun over my shoulders and kept the shotgun in my hands. Loaded for bear. I had killed a one-thousand-year-old vampire. Naw, not me. Surely not.
The ratmen and I found the punishment room. There were six coffins in it. Each had a blessed cross on its lid and silver chains to hold the lid down. The third coffin held Willie, so deeply asleep that he seemed like he would never wake. I left him like that, to wake with the night. To go on about his business. Willie wasn't a bad person. And for a vampire he was excellent.
All the other coffins were empty, only the last one still unopened … I undid the chains and laid the cross on the ground. Jean-Claude stared up at me. His eyes were midnight fire, his smile gentle. I flashed on the first dream and the coffin filled with blood, him reaching for me. I stepped back, and he rose from the coffin.
The ratmen stepped back, hissing.
“It's all right,” I said. “He's sort of on our side.”
He stepped from the coffin like he'd had a good nap. He smiled and extended a hand. “I knew you would do it, ma petite.”
“You arrogant son of a bitch.” I smashed the shotgun butt into his stomach. He doubled over just enough. I hit him in the jaw. He rocked back. “Get out of my mind!”
He rubbed his face and came away with blood. “The marks are permanent, Anita. I cannot take them back.”
I gripped the shotgun until my hands ached. Blood began to trickle down my arm from the wound. I thought about it. For one moment, I considered blowing his perfect face away. I didn't do it. I would probably regret it later.
“Can you stay out of my dreams, at least?” I asked.
“That, I can do. I am sorry, ma petite.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He shrugged. His black hair had nearly crimson highlights in the torchlight. Breathtaking. “Stop playing with my mind, Jean-Claude.”
“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.
“I know that the otherworldly beauty is a trick. So stop it.