"Banks, L A - Vampire Huntress 3 - 2004 - Hunted" - читать интересную книгу автора (Banks L. A)

of the ordinary, particularly bizarre murders, accidents, and deaths.
His gaze darted nervously around the slightly modern suburban kitchen, wondering
if it was time to have a priest come in and bless his house. Somehow the gun he
wore just didn't seem to bring much comfort, especially not when reading this
type of news. It reminded him too much of what he'd seen in an alley not too
long ago, and he thought that was all behind him. The world was going from bad
to worse. He was still having nightmares, and this crap didn't make him feel any
closer to making them stop.
"Do you believe this shitЕ" he whispered in the vacant kitchen and read the
tiny, almost insignificant article again. "Happened over a week ago, and we're
just hearing about it?" His mind wrestled with what could have kept something
like this hidden in the middle columns of the papers, out of the headlines of
the Brazilian press, and away from major news sources in the States. There was
only one plausible answer; it had to be much more than what was reported, if
someone had gone to such lengths to bury a story.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He'd seen shit similar to this
before, right in his own backyard. Kids with their throats ripped out and chests
torn open, bodies mysteriously disappearing from the morgueЕ The article said
mutilated. What did that mean? It was what the paper didn't say that disturbed
him. He'd seen plenty of madness that he still couldn't explain to a soul, much
less himself. Question was, where was one Carlos Rivera?
Maybe he'd have to go ask the only person that might knowЧan always very hard to
locate Damali Richards.

You've got a piece of my soul buried within you. Why you gotta take us both
through pure hell?∙Damali Richards, "Piece of my Soul."




Chapter One



Los Angeles, California. Present day

Vampires had a vibe, and right now it was thick. She could feel them on her
skin, making her flesh crawl beneath it. Oh, yeah. Tonight it was on! Damali
glanced around the club, all her extrasensory instincts humming. The electric
blues, fluorescent greens, and flaming orange stabbed into her brain as the
insistent reggae tempo seeped into her blood and created a second pulse within
her. She could feel the rhythm of her walk becoming smoother, longer in stride
as the music filled her up. It beat inside her, mingling with the grief and rage
that had been her companions for the past month.
Lingering cigarette and spliff smoke burned her eyes. The stifling, club-sweat
heat of bodies dancing, pressing, grinding, nearly smothered her as she shoved
her way through the crowd to get close to the bar. Screw what Marlene and the
guardian team had to say about her venturing out alone at night. She was a
full-blown Neteru nowЧa vampire huntressЕ and the vamp empire had killed her
man. A Corona was in orderЕ no, perhaps a Red Stripe beer. Fuck it. Make it Jack