"Laurell K. Hamilton - Anita Blake 8.5 - The Girl Who Was Infatuated With Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

executioner, Ms. Mackenzie. How do either of those jobs help you keep your
daughter alive?"
"I want you to help me find her before she commits suicide."
I just stared at her, my face professionally blank, but inwardly, I was cursing my
boss. He and I had had discussions about exactly what my job description was, and
suicidal daughters weren't part of that description.
"Have you gone to the police?" I asked.
"They won't do anything for twenty-four hours, but by then it will be too late."
"I have a friend who is a private detective. This sounds much more up her alley
than mine, Ms. Mackenzie." I was already reaching for the phone. "I'll call her at
home for you."
"No," she said, "only you can help me."
I sighed and clasped my hands across the clean top of my desk. Most of my
work wasn't indoor office work, so the desk didn't really see much use. "You're
daughter is alive, Ms. Mackenzie, so you don't need me to raise her. She's not a
rogue vampire, so you don't need an executioner. How can I be of any help to you?"
She leaned forward; the Kleenex waded in her hands, her eyes fierce again. "If
you don't help me by morning she will be a vampire."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"She's determined to become one of them tonight."
"It takes three bites to become a vampire, Ms. Mackenzie, and they all have to be
from the same vampire. You can't become one in a single night, and you can't
become one if you're just being casual with more than one."
"She has two bites on her thighs. I accidentally walked in on her when she was
getting out of the shower and I saw them."
 "Are you sure they were vampire bites?" I asked.
She nodded. "I made a scene. I grabbed her, wrestled with her so I could see
them clearly. They are vampire bites, just like the pictures they passed around at the
last PTA meeting so we could recognize it. You know one of those people lecturing
on how to know if your kids are involved with the monsters."
I nodded. I knew the kind of person she meant. Some of it was valuable
information, some of it was just scare tactics, and some of it was racist, if that was
the term. Prejudiced at least.
"How old is your daughter?"
"She's seventeen."
"That's only a year away from being legal, Ms. Mackenzie. Once she turns
eighteen, if she wants to become a vampire, you can't stop her legally."
"You say that so calmly. Do you approve?"
I took in a deep breath and let it out, slow. "I'd be willing to talk to your daughter,
try to talk her out of it. But how do you know that tonight is the night? It has to be
three bites within a very short space of time or the body fights off the infection, or
whatever the hell it is." Scientists were still arguing about exactly what made
someone become a vampire. There were biological differences before and after, but
there was also a certain level of mysticism involved, and science has always been
bad at deciphering that kind of thing.
"The bites were fresh, Ms. Blake. I called the man who gave the lecture at our
school and he said to come to you."
"Who was he?"
"Jeremy Ruebens."
I frowned now. "I didn't know he'd gotten out of jail," I said.