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The Killing Dance :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 228 из 285By the time most people got to the point where they weren't seeing reality, they were so far gone that there was no going back. Sometimes drug therapy helped, but without it, the world was a frightening, overwhelming place. Harley didn't look frightened or overwhelmed. He looked calm.
"When you look at Edward, he always looks the same to you. I mean you recognize him?"
Harley nodded.
"You'd recognize me," I said.
"If I make an effort to memorize you, yes."
"That's why you were staring."
"Yes," he said.
"What happens if Edward and I both go down?"
Harley smiled, but his eyes shifted to one side as if something low to the ground and rather small had run across the room. The movement was so natural that I looked. Nothing.
"Harley," I said.
He looked back at me, but his eyes were just a little higher up than my face should have been. "Yes," he said, his voice so quiet.
"What happens if Edward and I are both killed?"
Harley stared at me. His eyes shifted to my face for just a second, as if the fog had cleared. "That would be bad."
35
There would be no backing down for Marcus tonight. He had to die, one way or another. Richard wasn't arguing anymore. But there was still the chance that Raina would lead a revolt of the other lukoi. Their loyalty was divided enough for a war, even with Marcus dead. Jean-Claude came up with a solution. We'd put on a better show. A better show than Raina and Marcus? He had to be kidding. Richard agreed to let Jean-Claude costume him up for the night. As his lupa, that meant I had to get dressed up, too.
Jean-Claude took Richard off to dress him. He sent Cassandra with a white cardboard clothes box to me. She was supposed to help me change, she said.
I opened the box and all that was in it was a pile of black leather straps. I kid you not. I drew it out of the box and it didn't improve. "I don't know how to get into this, even if I was willing to."
"I'll get Stephen," Cassandra said.
"I don't want to undress in front of Stephen."
"He's a stripper," she said. "He dressed me last night at Danse Macabre, remember." She patted my hand. "He'll be a perfect gentleman."
I sat down on the bed and scowled at the door. I was not wearing this crap.
An hour later, Stephen and Cassandra were turning me in front of the bathroom mirrors so I could see myself. It had been embarrassing at first having a man help squeeze me into the thing, but Cassandra was right.
"When you look at Edward, he always looks the same to you. I mean you recognize him?"
Harley nodded.
"You'd recognize me," I said.
"If I make an effort to memorize you, yes."
"That's why you were staring."
"Yes," he said.
"What happens if Edward and I both go down?"
Harley smiled, but his eyes shifted to one side as if something low to the ground and rather small had run across the room. The movement was so natural that I looked. Nothing.
"Harley," I said.
He looked back at me, but his eyes were just a little higher up than my face should have been. "Yes," he said, his voice so quiet.
"What happens if Edward and I are both killed?"
Harley stared at me. His eyes shifted to my face for just a second, as if the fog had cleared. "That would be bad."
35
There would be no backing down for Marcus tonight. He had to die, one way or another. Richard wasn't arguing anymore. But there was still the chance that Raina would lead a revolt of the other lukoi. Their loyalty was divided enough for a war, even with Marcus dead. Jean-Claude came up with a solution. We'd put on a better show. A better show than Raina and Marcus? He had to be kidding. Richard agreed to let Jean-Claude costume him up for the night. As his lupa, that meant I had to get dressed up, too.
Jean-Claude took Richard off to dress him. He sent Cassandra with a white cardboard clothes box to me. She was supposed to help me change, she said.
I opened the box and all that was in it was a pile of black leather straps. I kid you not. I drew it out of the box and it didn't improve. "I don't know how to get into this, even if I was willing to."
"I'll get Stephen," Cassandra said.
"I don't want to undress in front of Stephen."
"He's a stripper," she said. "He dressed me last night at Danse Macabre, remember." She patted my hand. "He'll be a perfect gentleman."
I sat down on the bed and scowled at the door. I was not wearing this crap.
An hour later, Stephen and Cassandra were turning me in front of the bathroom mirrors so I could see myself. It had been embarrassing at first having a man help squeeze me into the thing, but Cassandra was right.