"Barbara Hambly - James Asher 1 - Those Who Hunt The Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hambly Barbara)

the English queenтАФI did not go home again. But personally, I cannot see why anyone would trouble to
do such a thing." Though his expression did not change, Asher had the momentary impression of
amusement glittering far back in those champagne-colored eyes.

"And as for the legends," the vampire went on, still oddly immobile, as if over the centuries he had
eventually grown weary of any extrane-ous gesture, "one hears of fairies everywhere also, yet neither you
nor I expect to encounter them at the bottom of the garden." Under the long, pale wisps of Ysidro's hair,
Asher could see the earlobes had once been pierced for earrings, and there was a ring of antique gold on
one of those long, white fingers. With his narrow lips closed, Ysidro's over-sized caninesтАФtwice the
length of his other teethтАФwere hidden, but they glinted in the gaslight when he spoke.

"I want you to come with me tonight," he said after a brief pause during which Asher had the impression
of some final, inner debate which never touched the milky stillness of his calm. "It is now half past
sevenтАФthere is a train which goes to London at eight, and the station but the walk of minutes. It is
necessary that I speak with you, and it is probably safer that we do so in a moving vehicle away from the
hos-tages that the living surrender to fortune."

Asher looked down at Lydia, her hair scattered like red smoke over the creamy lace of her gown, her
fingers, where they rested over that light frame of wire and glass, stained with smears of ink. Even under
the circumstances, the incongruity of the tea gown's languorous draper-ies and the spectacles made him
smile. The combination was somehow very like Lydia, despite her occasionally stated preference for the
more strenuous forms of martyrdom over being seen wearing spectacles in public. She had never quite
forgotten the sting of her ugly-duckling days. She was writing a paper on glands. He knew she'd
probably spent most of the morning at the infirmary's dissecting rooms and had been hurriedly scribbling
what she could after she'd come home and changed clothes while waiting for him to arrive. He wondered
what she'd make of Don Simon Ysidro and reflected that she'd probably produce a den-tal mirror from
somewhere about her person and demand that he open his mouthтАФwide.

He glanced back at Ysidro, oddly cheered by this mental image. "Safer for whom?"

"For me," the vampire replied smoothly. "For you. And for your lady. Do not mistake, James; it is truly
death that you smell, clinging to my coat sleeves. But had I intended to kill your lady or you, I would
already have done so. I have killed so many men. There is nothing you could do which could stop me."

Having once felt that disorienting moment of psychic blindness, Asher was ready for him, but still only
barely saw him move. His hand had not dropped the twenty inches or so that separated his fingers from
the hideout knife in his boot when he was flung backward across the head of the divan, in spite of his
effort to roll aside. Somehow both arms were wrenched behind him, the wrists pinned in a single grip of
steel and ice. The vampire's other hand was in his hair, cold against his scalp as it dragged his head back,
arching his spine down toward the floor. Though he was conscious of very little weight in the bony limbs
that forced his head back and still further back over nothing, he could get no leverage to struggle; and in
any case, he knew it was far too late. Silky lips brushed his throat above the line of the collarтАФthere was
no sensa-tion of breath.

Then the lips touched his skin in a mocking kiss, and the next instant he was free.

He was moving even as he sensed the pressure slack from his spine, not even thinking that Ysidro could
kill him, but only aware of Lydia's danger. But by the time he was on his feet again, his knife in his hand,
Ysidro was back behind the desk, unruffled and immobile, as if he had never moved. Asher blinked and
shook his head, aware there'd been another of those moments of induced trance, but not sure where it