"Goulart, Ron - Vampirella 01 - Bloodstalk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

He emerged in his tiny dressing room, shrugging out of his scarlet-lined cloak and letting it fall to the raw-wood floor. "Lord, I don't mind casting pearls before swine, but those idiotsЕ" From his rickety makeup table he grabbed a fifth of discount Scotch and poured several ounces into an old peanut-butter jar. He gulped most of it down, shuddered, and sighed. He was a tall, lean man, grey-haired and sharp-featured, nearly sixty.
There was a soft tapping on his door.
"Please allow me to wallow until the next show, Blackston," he muttered, refilling the jar with liquor.
"Mr. Pendragon?" A girl's voice, a young girl.
The magician squared his shoulders, blinked, and yawned. "Eh?" He rose, made his way to the door, and opened it a few inches. "Ah, a vision of beauty (and probably collecting for the United Crusade) come to call. What is it you wish, miss?"
The blonde girl said, "I thoughtЕ perhaps you might be able to help me."
Pendragon's slightly bloodshot eyes widened. "Child, it's been many years since I came to anyone's aid myself included)."
"Don't they ever hear you."
"Eh?"
"Your audiences. When you mutter things like that under your breath," said the girl, who was no more than twenty. "I was sitting in the first row just now and I distinctly caught two of your remarks."
"(Is she implying I talk to myself?) Nonsense, child," he said as he opened the door wider. "People expect a ruined old conjuror to mumble in his beard (or five o'clock shadow, as the case may be). All part of the show. Come in, won't you? I must admit I've grown so indifferent of late that I didn't notice you at all. You were at my last gala performance?"
"Yes, Mr. Pendragon. My name is Eve Millerton and I -"
"Sit down, dear child." He pointed at his chair, the only one in the tiny room.
"Thank you." Eve seated herself, knees pressed tightly together. She was wearing a simple cotton dress and a light coat. "I've been looking around the carnival most of the afternoon andЕ well, you're the only person I've seen who seems as though he might beЕ decent."
Blinking, Pendragon reached for his jar of Scotch. "Decent, you say? I don't believe I've been called that in a decade or more, Miss Millerton." He took a long swig.
"Comparatively speaking, I mean," the girl said. "Most of the people who work at this carnival, especially Mr. Blackston, seemЕ well, frightening, I guess."
Pendragon set the jar aside. "Don't have anything to do with Blackston," he told her in a low voice. "What is it you want here?"
"I'm searching for my uncle," replied Eve. "We were supposed to meet in town nearly a week ago andЕ well, he never met me. I've been asking around, and I found the hotel my uncle was staying at. The clerk said he thought my uncle was going to visit this carnival last weekЕ His name is Warren Millerton." She shook her head. "Whatever Uncle Warren did, Mr. Pendragon, he never came back to the hotel. I wanted to ask them here if they'd perhaps seen him, but when I saw the peopleЕ"
Pendragon reached out a thin, knobby hand to touch the girl's shoulder. "You haven't talked to anyone else here, child?"
"No, as I said, I thought you might -"
"You must get out of here, away from this carnival."
"But my uncle. Was he -"
I'll find out what I can," the magician promised. "Give me your address."
"I'm staying at the Westlake Hotel in town. But I -"
"Go now." He eased her up out of the chair. "The important thing is to get yourself off the carnival grounds. At once."
She studied his tired face. Then, nodding, she said, "Yes, all right, I'll do as you say, Mr. Pendragon. You will let me know if -"
"You have the word of a Pendragon (which is still worth a few pence on the open market), my dear." He urged her to the door. "I implore you, leave quickly. Depart."
When the blonde girl was gone, the magician slumped down into the chair and pressed his hands against his cheekbones. "Lord, how am I ever going to get out of this?"
The blind man pointed. "What's there?"
Adam Van Helsing said, "A grave, a makeshift grave covered over with stones."
Old Van Helsing nodded. "She was here."
"She?"
"Yes, I can sense her aura. The creature who fed on my brother's blood stalked this very spot."
The two of them stood on a stretch of ground which adjoined the ruins of what had been the Westron Sanitarium. A very light snow was falling, covering the black timbers. Several men from the local sheriffs office were going through the remains of the old mansion and the cavern below.
"A girl, then," said Adam. "You're certain, Dad?"
"This gift of mine, this gift I have instead of vision, Adam, it's seldom wrong. The vampire we seek is a girl. She was here at this place, exactly as my earlier hunch told me."
"Okay, you were right about that, about coming here," said his son. "Still, I have a feeling myself. I don't think -"
"I'm right," cut in the old man.
Adam grinned. "Tough enough to argue with the average parent, let alone one who's got second sight."
Van Helsing turned his sightless eyes toward the young man. "I don't mean to sound infallible, Adam. But I'm certain this time. Now we have to move on, to pick up the trail of this deadly girl."
"Any notion where she's -"
"Hey, Dr. Van Helsing!"
"They want you over there by the house, Dad." He took his father by the arm and led him across the snow.
Several bodies had been brought up from below the house. They lay black on the white ground.
One of the deputies was holding a charred book in one hand and a blood-stained knife in the other.
The sheriff, a weathered, white-haired man, took the jewel-handled knife gingerly and wrapped it up in a polka-dot blue bandanna. "Quite a few odd things turning up down there," he said to the two Van Helsings. "Since you're experts on occult stuffЕ what do you make of that book?"
The deputy handed the book to Adam.
"It's a copy of The Crimson Chronicles, Dad."
"I knew it was something like that, the emanations told me."
"That some kind of famous book?" asked the sheriff.