"Laurell K. Hamilton - Anita Blake 10 - Narcissus Chains" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

humor didn't quite reach her eyes, but she was trying.
I dialed, and the phone rang for what seemed forever, then another male
voice answered, "Yeah."
"Is this Narcissus in Chains?"
"Yeah, who's this?"
"I need to speak with Gregory?"
"Don't know any Gregory," he said.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"This is a freaking pay phone, lady. I just picked up." Then he hung up,
too. It seemed to be my night for it.
"They called from a pay phone at the club," I said.
"Well, at least you know where they are," Ronnie said.
"Do you know where the club is?" I asked.
Ronnie shook her head. "Not my kind of scene."
"Mine either." In fact the only card-carrying dominance and submission
players that I knew personally were all at the club waiting to be saved.
Who did I know that might know where the club was, and something about its
reputation? I couldn't trust what the wereleopards had told me about it being
a safe place. Obviously, they'd been wrong.
One name sprang to mind. The only one I knew to call that might know where
Narcissus in Chains was, and what kind of trouble I'd be in if I went inside.
Jean-Claude. Since I was dealing with shapeshifter politics it might have made
sense to call Richard, with him being a werewolf and all. But the
shapeshifters were a very clannish lot. One type of animal rarely crossed
boundaries to help another. Frustrating, but true. The exception was the
treaty between the werewolves and the wererats, but everyone else was left to
fend, and squabble, and bleed, among themselves. Oh, if some small group got
out of hand and attracted too much unwanted police attention, the wolves and
rats would discipline them, but short of that, no one seemed to want to
interfere with each other. That was one of the reasons I was still stuck
baby-sitting the wereleopards.
Also, Richard didn't know any more about the D and S subculture than I did,
maybe less. If you're wanting to ask questions about the sexual fringe,
Jean-Claude is definitely your guy. He may not participate, but he seems to
know who's doing what, and to whom, and where. Or I hoped he did. If it had
just been my life at stake, I probably wouldn't have called either of the
boys, but if I got killed doing this, that left no one to rescue Nathaniel and
the rest. Unacceptable.
Ronnie had kicked off her high heels. "I didn't bring my gun, but I'm sure
you have a spare."
I shook my head. "You're not going."
Anger makes her gray eyes the color of storm clouds. "The hell I'm not."
"Ronnie, these are shapeshifters, and you're human."
"So are you," she said.
"Because of Jean-Claude's vampire marks, I'm a little more than that. I can
take damage that would kill you."
"You can't go in there alone," she said. Her arms were crossed under her
breasts, her face set in angry, stubborn lines.
"I don't plan on going in alone."
"It's because I'm not a shooter, isn't it?"