"Allston, Aaron - Doc Sidhe 02 - Sidhe-Devil" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allston Aaron)

Harris glanced around. With stacks of chairs all around them, no one appeared to have seen or heard their exchange. He bent and dragged the bearded gunman behind several tall stacks of chairs, an adequate place of concealment. Then he undid the manТs bow tie and tied his wrists behind his back.
And cursed. The manТs nose was a bloody mess, and so was the forearm of HarrisТs jacket.
He drew off the jacket as he emerged from behind the chairs. And Zeb was right there, waiting for him. УDammit,Ф Harris said.
УMan, why are you acting so strange?Ф
Harris sighed, then grabbed ZebТs tie and pulled him around to look behind the chairs. УThatТs why.Ф
УWhat the hell happened to him?Ф
УI hit him.Ф
УWhy? What is he to you?Ф
УHeТs a fairy.Ф
Zeb pulled back and looked appalled. УHarris, thatТs not like you at all. YouТve never been a gay-basher.Ф
УNo, no, no. HeТs not gay. Or maybe he is. I donТt know. HeТs a fairy.Ф
УYouТve lost me.Ф
УIn other words, heТs someone from the fair world. Come on. We need to find out if there are more of them.Ф He drew Zeb back around the column and into the crowd. УYou see any guys about chest-high, built like bowling balls, point Тem out to me.Ф
УSo you can beat them up. Sure.Ф
The photographer called, УHusband, please stand beside the bride again.Ф
УDammit! Zeb, give me your jacket.Ф

Zeb watched Harris rejoin Gaby in front of the camera. Zeb could tell HarrisТs smile was forced. It looked genuine enough, but Zeb had known him long enough to distinguish between reality and acting where Harris was concerned. Zeb returned to the man Harris had slugged.
He didnТt find an invitation among the manТs effects. But he did find the manТs gun. It was a strange piece, brassy in color, large for a revolver.
Okay. So someone had crashed the wedding with a gun. Harris might be crazy, with all this talk of fairies, but he wasnТt paranoid. And heТd suggested there were more strange folk out there. Well, if there were potential enemies in the crowd with firearms, Zeb didnТt intend to be unarmed. He wrapped the gun up in HarrisТs jacket and took it with him.
Zeb returned to the edges of the crowd and looked around. He immediately spotted men so like the one Harris had slugged that they had to be relatives: short, squat, thick-chested, most of them bulbous-nosed and bearded. They were wearing the worst off-the-rack suits Zeb had seen in a long while. All four stood at the main doors leading into the hall, but as he watched, three departed-leaving the tallest one behind.
A guard, Zeb decided.

Harris took Gaby in his arms and kissed her. Kissed her long past the point the photographer said he had the shot. Then he whispered, УThere are fair folk here.Ф
Gaby held her smile. УI thought you were acting strangely.Ф
УSide by side, please,Ф the photographer said.
They obliged. Gaby asked, УSomeone Doc sent to guard us, maybe?Ф
УNah. Son of a bitch wouldnТt have drawn on me if he was guarding me. Is that another one? Over by your mother. Short, nose like a squashed avocado?Ф
УNo, thatТs my uncle Ernesto.Ф
УWhatТs he doing out of jail?Ф
УAttending our wedding, silly. Wait, thereТs one, at the doors out. Oh, damn.Ф
УWhat?Ф
УZebТs headed right for him.Ф

Zeb snagged a glass of champagne from a waiterТs tray and added a drunken sway to his walk as he approached the door. Convince him youТre crippled, he told himself, and his guard will come down.
On his way through the door he bumped into the squat red-headed man and sloshed champagne all over his chest. УOh, man, IТm sorry. Here, hold this.Ф He managed to get the glass into the manТs hand and began mopping the stain with HarrisТs jacket. Beneath the manТs suit coat he could clearly see the hard edges of the butt of another handgun.
УStupid buggering dusker, see what youТve done.Ф
УOh, man, IТm mortified. This jacket has to have set you back at least twenty bucks. IТll fix it right up.Ф He grabbed the squat manТs lapel and dragged him out into the empty corridor, mopping away at the stain. УHarris is a friend of mine. Friend of yours? You know he fights, right? I used to fight with him. Then I was his manager. WhatТs a dusker?Ф
УThatТs you, lad. Dusky, stupid, and drunk, like all your kind-Ф
УThatТs what I figured.Ф Zeb took a quick look up and down the corridor; sure that there was no one to see, he swung the gun wrapped in HarrisТs jacket and hit the man once in the side of the head, hard enough to jar his own arm. The manТs eyes rolled up in his head and he fell.
Zeb looked around. Still no witnesses. He took several long moments to pull free the manТs cheap tie and bind his hands with it, then stuffed him under one of the backless couches lining the hallway. Its shadow nearly hid the unconscious man.

The groomТs party sweated under the photographerТs lights. Zeb, lacking a jacket, stood behind Harris again. He leaned close and whispered, УThere was another one, at the door. I got him.Ф
HarrisТs eyes opened wider. УYou got him? What does that mean?Ф
УI killed him and I ate him. What do you think it means? HeТs sleeping it off under some furniture.Ф
УHey, you! Straighten up, would you?Ф
Zeb glared at the photographer and did so. He stage-whispered, УThere were originally four at the door. Three of them left. I donТt know where they went.Ф
УGreat.Ф Harris smiled and waved at Gaby, showing three fingers, then blew her a kiss. She caught it and ate it, then turned to her family. УOkay, she knows.Ф
УWould the groom please quit waving and talking? WeТll get this done a lot faster if everyone cooperates!Ф
Harris sighed and whispered, УThe Donohues hired the photographer. Since we wouldnТt let them arrange everything-Ф