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! Who thinks up this crap?"
"More importantly," Spook observed as she eased the tram to a stop, "who is
able to make this sort of thing work?"
A severed hand crawled into the illuminated spill from the headlights. The
lump on its "back"
contained an eyeball that rolled around and blinked as the stronger light
dazzled it.
"Ohmigod!" Deirdre stuck her head between ours. "It's Cousin Itt!"
Spook turned to her, wide-eyed: "It belongs to your cousin?"
"Noooo." It was a scary voice and echoed around the confines of the tunnel,
disguising its source for a moment. Then I realized it was behind me: Carol
the Vampire had spoken his third word of the
evening. "It iss character from Addams Family, yah? Only you mean Ting. Co-sin
Eet iss all hairy mit liddle hat."
"Oh." Spook looked back at the hand which appeared to be looking back at us.
"Wasn't that a movie?"
Deirdre shook her head. "TV show."
"Noooo. Vas cartoons in
New Yorker magazine."
I sat there and considered screaming but I wasn't sure whether it was because
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of the "thing" in front of me or the conversation all around me.
Chapter Twelve
His teeth are terrible round about. His scales are his pride, shut up together
as with a close seal. One is so near to another that no air can come between
them. They are joined one to another, they stick together that they cannot be
sundered. By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the
eyelids of the morning. Out of his mouth go burning lamp s and sparks of fire
leap out. Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or
caldron. His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth. In his
neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. The flakes
of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be
moved. His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether
millstone. When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of
breakings they purify themselves. The sword of him that layeth at him cannot
hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemeth iron as straw, and
brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned
with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the
shaking of a spear. Sharp stones are under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed
things upon the mire. He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea
like a pot of ointment. He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think
the deep to be hoary. Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fe
ar . . .
I sat straight up in bed, eyes wide and staring into the darkness.
The dream was bad enough. That it came with new installments every time I
slept made it worse: the demon continued to plow through the ocean like a
torpedo with teeth and claws and spines. But with subtitles from the Book of
Job it was assuming apocalyptic proportions.
It was coming for me, moving purposefully. Without sleep. Without rest.
Without pause.
But what awakened me, what chilled my already tepid blood and pulled my
eyelids wide in the darkness of my bedchamber, was the touch of the hand upon
my foot!
It had escaped Darcy Blenik's custody and crawled through miles of air ducts
to enter my quarters and attack me in my bed.
I felt it creeping past my ankle and over my shin like a slow and crafty
spider. It hesitated upon my knee as if plotting its final trajectory. Would
it go for my throat? Attempt to gouge my eyes out? I braced
myself for its attack . . .
"Oh, you're awake." The voice was vaguely familiar and sounded vaguely
disappointed.
A rectangle of light opened in the darkness. Deirdre stood in the doorway,
framed by lamplight from the room beyond. "Chris, Kurt wants you to oh. Is
this a bad time?"
Carmella Le Fanu was stretched out on the bed beside me, her hand on my knee.
She appeared to be naked. I blinked, adjusting to the glare from the doorway.
She was still naked.
"Ms. Le Fanu," I said slowly, "you and your brother have already had your
appointment with me."
"That was business," she said with a slow smile.
"And this is pleasure, right?" Deirdre had her fists on her hips and I got the
impression that I would have been better off if it had been the severed hand
upon my knee, poised to strike.
In the dim light Carmella's smile was reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat's. "It
is understood that the
Doman will be taking consorts soon."
"And you're auditioning, right?"
"Let's just say that I am doing some research."
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"How do we know you aren't another assassin, come to kill him in his sleep?"
"Because, for one thing," Suki's voice answered, "she's not carrying any
weapons. And, for another, I
wouldn't allow it."
We all looked toward the far corner of the room where the voice came from.
Suki sat in a chair, still wrapped in shadows, but finally visible. She held a
slightly curved katana across her thighs. It was still sheathed but two inches
of the blade were drawn, reflecting the light so that it momentarily dazzled
Carmella.
I turned back to Deirdre. "You were saying something about Kurt?"
"He wants to see you as soon as you're up."
"I'm up." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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