"Even Vampires Get The Blues" - читать интересную книгу автора (Макалистер Кейти)

Chapter 10

"So, about this whole Beloved business—I'm a bit confused. What exactly is she other than someone who gets your soul out of hock?"

"It's not important."

Paen sounded downright grumpy. He looked even grumpier, having insisted on driving to my office since I refused to take him out to meet Owen without making sure it wasn't going to cause problems. Now we were smack-dab in the afternoon commute traffic, stuck in an impossibly slow line of cars that inched its way past a three-car accident that managed to block traffic in both directions.

"Look, it's going to take at least half an hour to get to the office—we can sit here in silence, fuming about the traffic, or we can chat. I vote chat."

Paen looked like he wanted to argue, but evidently he realized the truth of what I said, because he relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel and said, "I don't mind talking, but there are many other subjects of conversation other than Beloveds."

"Yeah, but none that you try to avoid so hard."

He shot me a look. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope." I smiled. "I'm known for my persistence. It's why Jake thought I'd be a good private investigator. So you might as well give in to the inevitable and tell me what I want to know."

"You're the most stubborn woman of my acquaintance."

"I know. It's one of my charms. About the Beloved?"

He sighed and gave in. "A Beloved is more than just a soul-saver. She becomes a Dark One's life, the sole focus of his attention." He gave a little disgusted snort. "In other words, he becomes a shallow parody of what he used to be."

"I don't think that's very fair of you to say. I personally think it's really romantic that a man would love a woman so much that he'd devote his life to her."

"That's because you're a woman," Paen said, scowling in the side mirror at a bike messenger who smacked the side of the car as he passed. "The relationship between Dark One and Beloved is totally one-sided; she redeems his soul, binding it to her for eternity. There's no reciprocal binding, just him bound to her. If she dies, he fades away to nothing, but a Beloved can live on forever without her Dark One."

"I find it hard to believe that anyone who goes to the trouble of fetching a soul for someone else wouldn't feel some sort of affection for that person. So I'm sure it's not quite as one-sided as you make out."

"You don't know anything about it," he said with a touch of churlishness that I found oddly endearing. I was beginning to suspect that Paen was arguing to convince himself rather than me.

"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me more about it?"

He shot me a wary look. "Why do you want to know about Beloveds?"

"Oh, I don't know. Partly curiosity. Partly because I like you and I'm interested in your history, and what makes you tick."

His eyes lost their guarded appearance.

"That, and I think there's probably a good chance I'm your Beloved, so I'd like to know what the job entails."

"I knew it! I knew Finn would fill your head with all sorts of idiotic ideas! You are not my Beloved!"

I laughed at the outraged expression on his handsome face. "Prove it."

"What?" We moved forward a few feet. Ahead of us, at the next intersection, a bevy of police cars and aid units were clustered, sorting out the victims and damaged vehicles, hauling away both to their respective destinations. One policeman was directing traffic around a tow truck, up onto the sidewalk, and down onto the street a few feet past.

"Prove to me that I'm not your Beloved."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" he asked, giving me another annoyed look.

I leaned to the side and kissed him. His eyes flashed quicksilver at the touch. "Sorry, I just couldn't resist. You're very kissable, you know. It makes my stomach do all sorts of things whenever I give in to temptation."

His gorgeous eyes narrowed at me. "You're trying to use your female wiles on me to make me tell you what you want to know, aren't you?"

"Are you kidding? You knew the same wouldn't work on me—there's no way I believe I could sway you with sex."

"That's good, because I couldn't be swayed," he said, looking forward as someone four cars ahead was waved through the intersection. "That doesn't mean you can't kiss me, though."

I smiled and sat back, startling him into giving me a look from the corner of his eye. "As for how you can prove to us both that I'm not your Beloved… is there a test or something? Or is a woman, pow, just born your Beloved?"

"There are steps that must be gone through to culminate in a Joining," Paen answered grudgingly after a few moments of pregnant silence.

"Finn said something about that. This Joining thing is what gets you back your soul?"

He nodded.

"Gotcha. What are the steps?"

We moved forward another car length. Outside the car, the hum of idling traffic made a dull background to the excited chatter of bystanders watching from behind the yellow accident tape. "The first step is the marking."

"Right. Finn said that could be a psychic thing?"

"The second step," Paen said, ignoring my comment, "is protection from afar."

"Hmm." I tapped my chin. "That sounds very chivalrous. Kind of like you were watching out for someone when she needed you?"

"Possibly," he allowed.

"So I'm two for two, then."

He turned to give me a look that by rights should have sent me screaming. I just wanted to kiss him again, instead. "How do you reckon that?"

"You pulled me back when Pilar was threatening me while I was astralling the first time. That's protection from afar."

"Of a sort, and it was purely unintentional."

I laughed. "Don't sound so grumpy about it. You did pull me out of a bad situation, and I'm grateful for it. What's the third step?"

"The first exchange. And before you ask, that means an exchange of body fluids."

"Ew," I said, wrinkling my nose. "Oh, wait. Does French kissing qualify as an exchange?"

"Yes," he said, his jaw tight.

"Three down, how many left?"

"There are seven steps altogether, and those first three are just coincidences, no more."

"Fourth?" I asked, watching as an aid car pulled out with its sirens and lights screaming a warning.

"Fourth is the Dark One giving the Beloved the means to destroy him."

"Hmm," I said, tapping my chin again as I eyed him. "Like giving her a stake or something?"

He didn't answer, just tightened his jaw even more.

"Or could it be something as simple as telling her enough information about him that she could use it to bring about his destruction if she so desired?"

"You can't destroy me," he said, not answering the question.

"Wanna bet? I'm willing to wager that if I don't find that statue and your mom loses her soul, you'd be pretty destroyed."

He didn't say anything to that, either.

"Paen—" I leaned over until he made eye contact. "I will find it, don't worry. I'm not going to let your mom lose her soul."

He nodded abruptly.

"This is like pulling teeth, so we might as well get the worst over with. What are the fifth and sixth steps?" I asked as I resumed my seat.

"A second exchange, and help in overcoming his darker self."

"Hmm. Second body fluid exchange, check. But overcoming your darker self… hmmm."

"As you now see, you have accomplished some of the steps, but not all of them," he said, moving forward another car space.

I don't know about that—I'm thinking that overcoming your darker self can mean a lot of things.

Such as?

Well, admitting someone into a previously-held-private area of your life.

I could feel him frown as he thought about that. In what way do you think I've allowed you further than any other woman I've had sex with?

How many of them did you mind-talk with?

He withdrew—not physically, but mentally—but before he did I got a sense of shock as he realized the truth.

"So that's five and six done. One's left, right? What's that?"

Deep within him, emotions warred so strongly I felt them even with a few feet between us. "The seventh step is an exchange of blood."

"Blood, huh? I'm not into that, but I suppose if it doesn't have to be a bloodfest, I could tolerate it. Let's do it."

He gave me a look like I'd just suggested he strip naked and dance on the roof of the car. "You can't be serious."

"Sure I am. If it will get you back your soul, then it would be worth it to me to put up with a little blood."

"You have no idea what you're saying," he sputtered.

"In fact, I do. But according to you, I'm not your Beloved, so it shouldn't matter. I think. What happens if we do the seventh step and I'm not your Beloved?"

"Nothing happens, but you aren't—" he started to say.

I took his hand and pulled off my jacket the Celtic cross brooch my mother had given me for Easter. Before waiting for him to protest, I jabbed the tip of his finger with the pin, taking the end of his finger into my mouth to suck off the bead of blood that appeared there.

"Sam, no!" he yelled as I wrinkled my nose at the coppery taste of blood.

"Seventh step," I said, putting my thumb over the spot on his finger to stop the bleeding. I squinted at him, surprised to see that nothing looked different about him. "Um. Does it take a while for your soul to come back?"

"It would be instantaneous if you were my Beloved," he said, pulling his hand back.

"Oh. Rats."

"Rats?" he asked, looking a bit surprised. I didn't blame him—I felt a bit surprised by my disappointment that I hadn't turned out to be his Beloved after all.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I really thought I could."

The silver light in his eyes narrowed. "You want to become my Beloved?"

"No, not really." Pain flashed over his face so quickly I wasn't sure if I really saw it or was projecting. "That is, I want to help you. I like you, Paen. I like you a lot. I know you pooh-pooh any sort of emotional attachment in your lovers, but some level of it is important to me. I care about you. And I'd like for you to have a soul. So in that sense, yes, I was willing to be your Beloved in order to do that. But if you're asking if I'm madly in love with you…" I bit my lip.

"Well?" he asked, trying not to look interested but failing badly. Evidently he realized that as well because he gave up the pretence. "Are you madly in love with me?"

"I am not head over heels in love with you, no," I said carefully, honesty being one of my rules. I avoided thinking about the fact that chances were good I was soon going to be in that state.

"Ah." Deep within him, for just a second or two, disappointment added to the blackness that threatened to engulf him. "That's good. I'm not in love with you, either. But as for the other… er… I like you as well."

"Right. So we're both on the same channel, then." Ahead of us, the cop waved the car in front and us through the intersection. Paen shifted, a tiny frown pulling his eyebrows together.

"Exactly."

"And I'm not your Beloved."

He was silent for a second longer than I thought he would be. "That's correct."

"Sorry about stabbing your finger."

He made a little gesture waving it away. "It's nothing."

Silence filled the car as we made our way down Princes Street and turned onto the street where my office was located. I directed him to the loading zone spot along the side that Mila had told us we could use.

"You sit tight and I'll go unlock the side door," I said, pointing to the unmarked door along the side of the building. "It's faster than going in the front way, and if you run, you shouldn't get too much more sun."

"Thank you," he said, his eyes brightening as I caressed his cheek.

"You're still a bit sunburned," I said, rubbing my thumb on his cheekbone.

"It was worth it," he said with a hint of a grin, and something within me burst into glorious existence.

"Yes, it was." I got out of the car before he noticed that I was being flooded with strong emotion.

"You are not falling in love with him, so stop thinking you are," I lectured myself sternly as I marched over to the door and unlocked it. I waved at Paen, holding the door open as he jumped out of his car and bolted toward me. "He's a vampire. You can't save him. He doesn't believe in love. He's totally wrong for you, totally—ack!"

Call it elf sense, call it heightened awareness, call it Sally if you like, but something sent my peripheral awareness into overdrive as Paen ran toward me. The world suddenly downshifted into first gear, time expanding so that everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Paen loped across the tiny parking area, his hat angled to protect him from the sun. Beyond him, a dark-haired, familiar man rose from where he'd been hiding behind a large square trash bin, his arm swinging up in a slow arc as he shouldered a lethal-looking crossbow, turning his body so the metal bolt was aimed to intersect Paen's path. Next to him, clinging to the trash bin, a small spider monkey in a green striped suit sat busily unwrapping what looked like the remains of a candy bar.

"Noooo!" I screamed, even my voice sounding drawn out as I threw myself forward. I intended to push Paen out of the way of the bolt, but as I lunged toward him, my feet leaving the ground in a leap of distance they would never again surpass, the thought flashed through my mind that despite having just met him, despite the fact that he alternately aroused and frustrated me, despite the fact that we were clearly not in the least bit suited for one another—despite all that, I was willing to do whatever it took to save him.

Even at the cost of my own life.

Paen yelled my name as the bolt slammed into my shoulder, knocking me backward, flinging me up against the concrete side of the building. Hot, sickening pain swept through me, causing the world to spin off its axis. Paen roared something I couldn't make out, catching me before I slid helplessly down to the ground.

The last thing I saw before blissful oblivion took me in its arms was Paen's face, his eyes so dark they looked black.

"You've got your soul back," I said.