"Elrod, P N - Jack Fleming - The Vampire Files 02 - Lifeblood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

The bartender moved away, no doubt driven off by the scent of dying
lilies that the newcomer had doused over himself. A cloud of it hit me
in the face like exhaust from a truck, and I gave up breathing for a
while.

He looked at the watch again and then at the door. No one came in. He
removed his hat, placing it gently on the bar, as though it might offend
someone. From a low widow's peak to the curl-clustered nape, his dark
hair had been carefully dressed with a series of waves that were too
regular to be natural. He removed his gloves, plucking delicately at the
fingertips, then absently patted his hair down.

The bartender caught the eyes of the man in the booth and shrugged with
raised brows and a superior smile as though to say he couldn't help who
walked through the door as long as they paid. The man in the booth
hunched closer to his beer and watched the mirror.

Two minutes later a lady walked in, probably the first one to ever cross
the threshold. She was small, not much over five feet, wearing emerald
green with a matching hat and a heavy dark veil that covered her face
down to her hard, red lips. She carried a big green bag trimmed with
beads that twinkled in the light. Her green heels made quite a noise as
she crossed the wood floor to the tall man at the bar. He straightened a
little, because polite men do things like that when a lady comes up to
them, and he did look polite.

She glanced around warily, her eyes resting on me a moment. She must
have been pretty enough to be noticed even by a drunk like me; at least
she had a trim figure and good legs. I gave her an encouraging, if
bleary leer and raised my glass hopefully. After that she ignored me and
tilted her chin expectantly at the tall man.

He frowned, worried, but gathered up his hat, cane, gloves, and drink
and followed her to the second-to-last booth at the end. She sat with
her back to me and the man slid in opposite her with his back to the big
man in gray, who was now pressed tight against the wall. She seemed not
to have noticed him.

The gin placed his cane across the table, the curved handle hanging over
the outside edge. His hat went next to it and the gloves were tucked
into a pocket. I could tell he was nervous again from the way he fussed
with things. He quietly asked the woman if she cared to have a drink.
She shook her head. He repeated the gesture to the bartender, who then
moved down to my end and picked up another glass to polish. He was
watching me, but I was in a slack-jawed dream, staring into space, at
least at the space occupied by the mirror behind him.

The man in gray leaned to the outside and craned his neck. He could see
the bartender and was now worried that he couldn't see me as well, but
it was too late to investigate the problem without calling attention to