"Hamilton,.Laurell.K.-.Anita.Blake.-.12.-.Incubus.Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

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Incubus Dreams
Laurell K. Hamilton
An Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Novel


ISBN 0-425-19824-3


To J,
companion, best friend, lover,
stick and carrot, true partner, husband.
Words fail.


Acknowledgments
To Dark, who is always instrumental in making sure the deadlines get met and the business, all of it, gets attention. Karen, for taking me around to the strip clubs and teaching me never, ever, to sit near the stage. To Sherry, as always, for doing so much to keep everything clean, neat, and as tidy as weТll let her. I do realize that we are the stumbling block. Bear, also for going around to the strip clubs with us, and just being a large and wonderful presence. Robin, for answering my questions and, as always, for being a wise voice. To Marshal Michael Moriaty, for sending me all the nifty stuff on the federal marshal program, and answering some of my questions. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. To Sergeant Robert Cooney of St. LouisТs Mobile Reserve, for answering questions, for the tour and letting us see all the wonderful toys. His input was invaluable to this book. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. The more I learn about our own Mobile Reserve and all the tactical units across the country, the more impressed I am and the more I despair of ever getting it just right on paper. My writing group, the Alternate Historians: Tom Drennen, Rhett MacPherson, Deborah Millitello, Marella Sands, Sharon Shinn, and Mark Sumner. Fine writers, good friends, and champions of esoteric trivia. To Mary, my mother-in-law, who did grandma day camp with Trinity so that Jon and I could get this rewrite done. If Jon hadnТt sat with me and made me do it, you might never have seen this book. To Trinity, who gets more amazing every year, and who I hope someday understands what the heck I was doing all those days and nights up in that room at the top of the house.


1

It was an October wedding. The bride was a witch who solved preternatural crimes. The groom raised the dead and slew vampires for a living. It sounded like a Halloween joke, but it wasnТt.
The groomТs side wore traditional black tuxedos with orange bow ties and white shirts. The brideТs side wore orange formals. You donТt see Halloween orange prom dresses all that often. IТd been terrified that I was going have to shell out three hundred dollars for one of the monstrosities. But since I was on the groomТs side I got to wear a tux. Larry Kirkland, groom, coworker, and friend, had stuck to his guns. He refused to make me wear a dress, unless I wanted to wear one. Hmm, let me see. Three hundred dollars, or more, for a very orange formal that IТd burn before IТd wear again, or less than a hundred dollars to rent a tux that I could return. Wait, let me think.
I got the tux. I did have to buy a pair of black tie-up shoes. The tux shop didnТt have any size seven in womenТs. Oh, well. Even with the seventy-dollar shoes that I would probably never wear again, I still counted myself very lucky.
As I watched the four bridesmaids in their poofy orange dresses walk down the isle of the packed church, their hair done up on their heads in ringlets, and more makeup than IТd ever seen any of them wear, I was feeling very, very lucky. They had little round bouquets of orange and white flowers with black lace and orange and black ribbons trailing down from the flowers. I just had to stand up at the front of the church with my one hand holding the wrist of the other arm. The wedding coordinator had seemed to believe that all the groomsmen would pick their noses, or something equally embarrassing, if they didnТt keep their hands busy. So sheТd informed them that they were to stand with their hands clasped on opposite wrists. No hands in pockets, no crossed arms, no hands clasped in front of their groins. IТd arrived late to the rehearsalЧbig surpriseЧand the wedding coordinator had seemed to believe that I would be a civilizing influence on the men, just because I happened to be a girl. It didnТt take her long to figure out that I was as uncouth as the men. Frankly, I thought we all behaved ourselves really well. She just didnТt seem very comfortable around men, or around me. Maybe it was the gun I was wearing.
But none of the groomsmen, myself included, had done anything for her to complain about. This was LarryТs day, and none of us wanted to screw it up. Oh, and TammyТs day.
The bride entered the church on her fatherТs arm. Her mother was already in the front pew dressed in a pale melon orange that actually looked good on her. She was beaming and crying, and seemed to be both miserable and deliriously happy all at the same time. Mrs. Reynolds was the reason for the big church wedding. Both Larry and Tammy would have been happy with something smaller, but Tammy didnТt seem to be able to say no to her mother, and Larry was just trying to get along with his future in-law.
Detective Tammy Reynolds was a vision in white, complete with a veil that covered her face like a misty dream. She, too, was wearing more makeup than IТd ever seen her in, but the drama of it suited the beaded neckline, and full, bell-like skirt. The dress looked like it could have walked down the isle on its own, or at least stood on its own. TheyТd done something with her hair so that it was smooth and completely back from her face, so that you could see just how striking she was. IТd never really noticed that Detective Tammy was beautiful.
I was standing at the end of the groomsmen, me and LarryТs three brothers, so I had to crane a little to see his face. It was worth the look. He was pale enough that his freckles stood out on his skin like ink spots. His blue eyes were wide. TheyТd done something to his short red curls so they lay almost smooth. He looked good, if he didnТt faint. He gazed at Tammy as if heТd been hit with a hammer right between the eyes. Of course, if theyТd done two hoursТ worth of makeup on Larry, he might have been a vision, too. But men donТt have to worry about it. The double standard is alive and well. The woman is supposed to be beautiful on her wedding day, the groom is just supposed to stand there and not embarrass himself, or her.
I leaned back in line and tried not to embarrass anyone. IТd tied my hair back while it was still wet so that it lay flat and smooth to my head. I wasnТt cutting my hair so it was the best I could do to look like a boy. There were other parts of my anatomy that didnТt help the boy look either. I am curvy, and even in a tux built for a man, I was still curvy. No one complained, but the wedding coordinator had rolled her eyes when she saw me. What she said out loud was, УYou need more makeup.Ф
УNone of the other groomsmen are wearing makeup,Ф I said.
УDonТt you want to look pretty?Ф
Since IТd thought I already looked pretty good, there was only one reply, УNot particularly.Ф
That had been the last conversation the wedding lady and I had had. She positively avoided me after that. I think sheТd been mean on purpose, because I wasnТt helping her keep the other groomsmen in line. She seemed to believe that just because we both had ovaries instead of balls that we should have joined forces. Besides, why should I worry about being pretty? It was Tammy and LarryТs day, not mine. If, and that was a very big if, I ever got married, then IТd worry about it. Until then, screw it. Besides, I was already wearing more makeup than I normally did. Which for me meant any. My stepmother, Judith, keeps telling me that when I hit thirty IТll feel differently about all this girl stuff. IТve only got three years to go until the big 3-0; so far panic has not set in.
TammyТs father placed her hand in LarryТs. Tammy was three inches taller than Larry, in heels, she was more. I was standing close enough to the groom to see the look that TammyТs father gave Larry. It was not a friendly look. Tammy was three months, almost four months pregnant, and it was LarryТs fault. Or rather it was Tammy and LarryТs fault, but I donТt think thatТs how her father viewed it. No, Mr. Nathan Reynolds definitely seemed to blame Larry, as if Tammy had been snatched virgin from her bed and brought back deflowered, and pregnant.
Mr. Reynolds raised TammyТs blusher on her veil to reveal all that carefully made-up beauty. He kissed her solemnly on the cheek, threw one last dark look at Larry, and turned smiling and pleasant to join his wife in the front pew. The fact that heТd gone from a look that dark, to pleasant and smiling when he knew the church would see his face, bothered me. I didnТt like that LarryТs new father-in-law was capable of lying that well. Made me wonder what he did for a living. But I was naturally suspicious, comes from working too closely with the police for too long. Cynicism is so contagious.
We all turned toward the altar, and the familiar ceremony began. IТd been to dozens of weddings over the years, almost all Christian, almost all standard denominations, so the words were strangely familiar. Funny, how you donТt think youТve memorized something until you hear it, and realize you have. УDearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony.Ф
It wasnТt a Catholic or Episcopalian wedding, so we didnТt have to kneel, or do much of anything. We wouldnТt even be getting communion during the ceremony. I have to admit my mind began to wander a bit. IТve never been a big fan of weddings. I understand theyТre necessary, but I was never one of those girls who fantasized about what my wedding would be like someday. I donТt remember ever thinking about it until I got engaged in college, and when that fell through, I went back to not thinking about it. IТd been engaged very briefly to Richard Zeeman, junior high science teacher, and local Ulfric, Wolf-King, but heТd dumped me because I was more at home with the monsters than he was. Now, IТd pretty much settled into the idea that I would never marry. Never have those words spoken over me and my honeybun. A tiny part of me that IТd never admit to out loud was sad about that. Not the wedding part, I think I would hate my own wedding just as much as anyone elseТs, but not having one single person to call my own. IТd been raised middle-class, middle America, small town, and that meant the fact that I was currently dating a minimum of three men, maybe four, depending on how you looked at it, still made me squirm with something painfully close to embarrassment. I was working on not being uncomfortable about it, but there were issues that needed to be worked out. For instance, who do you bring as your date to a wedding? The wedding was in a church complete with holy items, so two of the men were out. Vampires didnТt do well around holy items. Watching Jean-Claude and Asher burst into flames as they came through the door would probably have put a damper on the festivities. That left me with one official boyfriend, Micah Callahan, and one friend, who happened to be a boy, Nathaniel Graison.
TheyТd come to the part where the rings were exchanged, which meant the maid of honor and the best man had something to do. The woman got to hold TammyТs huge spill of white flowers, and the man got to hand over the jewelry. It all seemed so terribly sexist. Just once IТd like to see the men have to hold flowers and the women fork over the jewelry. IТd been told once by a friend that I was too liberated for my own good. Maybe. All I knew was that if I ever did get engaged again IТd decided either both of us got an engagement ring, or neither of us did. Of course, again, that not getting married part meant that the engagement was probably off the board, too. Oh, well.
At last, they were man and wife. We all turned and the reverend presented them to the church as Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Kirkland, though I knew for a fact that Tammy was keeping her maiden name, so really it should have been Mr. Lawrence Kirkland and Ms. Tammy Reynolds.
We all fell into two lines. I got to offer my arm to Detective Jessica Arnet. She took the arm, and with her in heels, I was about five inches shorter than she was. She smiled at me. IТd noticed she was pretty about a month ago, because she was flirting with Nathaniel, but it wasnТt until that moment that I realized she could be beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled completely back from her face, so that the delicate triangle of her cheeks and chin was all you saw. The makeup had widened her eyes, added color to her cheeks, and carved pouting lips out of her thin ones. I realized that the orange that made most of the bridesmaids look wan, brought out rich highlights in her skin and hair, made her eyes shine. So few people look good in orange, itТs one of the reasons they use it in so many prisons, like an extra punishment. But Detective Arnet looked wonderful in it. It almost made me wish IТd let the wedding lady talk me into the extra makeup. Almost.
I must have stared, because she frowned, and only then did I start forward, and take our place in line. We filed out like good little wedding party members. WeТd already endured the photographer for group shots. HeТd be hunting the bride and groom for those candid moments: cutting the cake, throwing the bouquet, removing the garter. Once we got through the receiving line, I could fade into the background and no one would care.
We all stood in a line as weТd been drilled. Bride and groom at the front of the line, because, letТs face it, thatТs who everyone is really here to see. The rest of us strung out behind them along the wall, waiting to shake hands with mostly strangers. TammyТs family were locals, but IТd never met any of them. LarryТs family were all out-of-towners. I knew the policemen that had been invited; other than that, it was all nod and smile, nod and smile, shake a hand, or two, nod and smile.
I must have been concentrating very hard on the people I was meeting, because it surprised me when Micah Callahan, my official date, was suddenly in front of me. He was exactly my height. Short for man or woman. His rich, brown hair was nearly as curly as mine, and today his hair fell around his shoulders loose. HeТd done that for me. He didnТt like his hair loose, and I understood why. He was already delicate looking for a man, and with all that hair framing him, his face was almost as delicate a triangle as Detective ArnetТs. His lower lip was fuller than his upper lip, which gave him a perpetual pout, and being wider than most womenТs mouths didnТt really help. But the body under his black tailored suit, that definitely helped make it clear he was a man. Wide shoulders, slender waist and hips, a swimmerТs body, though that wasnТt his sport. From the neck down youТd never mistake him for a girl. It was just the face, and the hair.
HeТd left his shirt open at the neck so that it framed the hollow in his throat. I could see myself reflected darkly in his sunglasses. It was actually a little dim in the hallway, so why the sunglasses? His eyes were kitty-cat eyes, leopard, to be exact. They were yellow and green all at the same time. What color predominated between the two depended on what color he wore, his mood, the lighting. Today, because of the shirt, theyТd be very green, but with a hint of yellow, like dappled light in the forest.
He was a wereleopard, Nimir-Raj of the local pard. By rights he should have been able to pass for human. But if you spend too much time in animal form sometimes you donТt come all the way back. He didnТt want to squeak the mundanes, so heТd worn the glasses today.
His hand was very warm in mine, and that one small touch was enough, enough to bring some of the careful shielding down. The shielding that had kept me from sensing him all through the ceremony like a second heartbeat. He was Nimir-Raj to my Nimir-Ra. Leopard King and Queen. Though my idea of the arrangement was closer to queen and consort, partners, but I reserved presidential veto. IТm a control freak, what can I say?