"Barb & J. C. Hendee - Noble Dead 02 - Thief of Lives" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hendee JC & Barb)

тАЬOh, Father isnтАЩt home tonight,тАЭ she said. тАЬHeтАЩs gone to the KnightтАЩs House for cards again.тАЭ

He did not answer her. His left hand shot out, gripped the back of her neck, and jerked her toward his
open mouth.

She heaved in a breath but never released it.

He bit her exposed throat before her hands could push at him, elongated canines sinking through her
skin. His jaws snapped closed as he ripped away flesh to expose open veins. Pain and trauma paralyzed
her body, and there was no way she could scream. Her hands, almost to his chest, dropped limp in
spasms.

Her weight was nothing, and he supported it by the hand clamped about her neck. Her heartbeat
slowed, its rhythm shallow and irregular, so he shook her until the blood flowed freely. It soaked her
collar, spreading from the wound, and he watched the red seep into her bodice and across her chest, and
downward over her shoulder until it ran along her left arm to drip from her slender finger. The heartbeat
weakened until even he could not hear it anymore. He watched as her eyes grew cold and vacant. A
ringlet of brown hair adhered to the wet flesh on her throat as her head rolled in his grip.

With his free hand, he ripped her dress open, exposing the bloodstained white shift she wore
underneath. He shredded that as well and dropped her body upon the porch like a soiled, broken doll.
Turning, he walked back out the front gate to the street, stopping briefly to check both ways. Once
certain the path was clear, he returned the way he had come.

Fishing a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his mouth.

The coming days had been successfully set in motion.



Chapter 1



It was the place heтАЩd nearly died, and here he returned every day before dawn.

Leesil stood sweating in the forest clearingтАЩs cold air, surrounded by sparse-limbed, shaggy firs. The sun
had crested the high eastern tree line, and winking sparks of sunlight skipped between ocean wave tops
below to the west. Along the shallow bayтАЩs coastal edge sat the small port town of Miiska, its rooftops
brightened by the dawn.

White-blond hair matted flat to LeesilтАЩs neck, shoulders, and his narrow face, letting the blunt tips of his
oblong ears peek out. Faded but still visible scars lined his tan-colored throat and the lower right side of
his jaw. The thin beige cotton shirt clung to his back, and his feet felt wet with perspiration in the soft
leather boots. Breathing hard, he scowled in irritation, wiping away sweat running into his eyes. He
shivered briefly. The chill of a late-autumn morning encouraged him to keep moving for warmth.

тАЬValhachkasejтАЩa!тАЭhe muttered, though not completely certain of its meaning.

His motherтАФNeinтАЩa, Father had called herтАФwould whisper it under her breath when angered or