"Gordon Eklund - CrossRoad Blues" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eklund Gordon)

"You don't." She closes the door. "But you used to be a cop. Doesn't it hang
together? Doesn't it make sense?'

His head keeps shaking. "I still won't die for you bastards. Drop me in the Zone
and they'd spot me in an instant. I don't care how much heat I'm packing, I
can't take on a whole precinct."

"We'll take care of that. They won't know you."

"How? Shoe polish? You want me to wear blackface?"

For the first time she seems hesitant: "A procedure. Even the genes are somehow
altered. You won't just look native. For all intents and purposes you'll be one
-- body and soul."

"You're going to turn me into a nigger?" His laughter is like the baying of a
hound.

She frowns. "I said it was a procedure. Much of it reversible. There may be
scars though."

"You're all fucking crazy."

"You won't do it?"

"Oh, sure. Black, white, what difference does it make? Anything's better than
this. There's one other thing though."

"What?"

"You."

She says, eyes batting as if irreducibly charmed: "Uh-uh, Leary. Forget it. I
work for the Force. It doesn't own me."

"Afterward, then? After I snuff Rathbone?"

"How do you know he won't kill you instead?"

"I don't," he says. "That's what makes it a risk."

Chapter Four -- Black Snake Moan (11/11)

He runs thick hard rough fieldhand fingers across the polished, ivory sheen,
pale-as-death flesh of her shoulder blade. Muscles underneath ripple like waves
in a wind.

"I could purr," she says, voice a river low in her throat. "God, I want you
inside me again."