"Karen Koehler - Slayer 02 - Dragon Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Koehler Karen)

Presumably, he was the man who would accept the donations from the sponsors dedicating this wing of
the Metropolitan Museum of Art to Katherine KeithтАЩs work. The question was why he had chosen to
approach Alek and why he was staring at him so intently now. True, in some circles Alek was a bit of a
celebrity. A number of years ago he had had an exhibit like this.

Well not exactly like this, not this grand, but he had sold all of his work for enough money to keep him
until...well, a very long time. That made him famous, sort of. But people did not usually recognize his
face. And if they did, it was in response to the work heтАЩd done away from the easel and because they
intended to stick some long, sharp implement into one of his vital organs.

тАЬI have yet to see her match,тАЭ Alek warily agreed.

He had been here a while now, maybe a whole ten minutes. Surely that was enough?

The man continued to watch his face.

тАЬDo we know each other?тАЭ Alek asked.

The little man shook his head no. тАЬNot at all. I just recognized you as are her inspiration.тАЭ

тАЬExcuse me?тАЭ

The little man pointed back over his shoulder at one of the pieces Alek had passed without noticing.

Alek slipped on his glasses. No, he was dreaming this. He approached the opposing painting. It was
fairly new according to the caption. And quite dark for Kat. A tall, lean man stood wearily amid the rush
of a New York crowd, and yet oddly apart from it, his shoulder resting against a lamppost, his face
turned down and half shrouded by webs of blue-black hair. Behind him lay his shadow, thrown like
blood across the ground, but it was a deformed thing, the shadow, implying much, the hair almost
sentient. The name of the piece was Serpent Boy.

Alek looked away.

Katherine Keith was arriving to the illustrious symphony of babbling excitement and flashing cameras. It
happened suddenly, shock followed by shock so he felt like the world had conspired to fall in on him all
at once. He stood stock-still beside the Serpent Boy painting as they led her in and the fawning of the
press and patrons began. It might have seemed a false fawning--except the heat and adrenaline in the
room had jumped up a good ten notches with her arrival. You couldnтАЩt fake those smiles, those glittering
eyes. They loved Kat. And for good reason. Kat shone. There was a force about her that seemed to
push ahead of her as she entered the room in her ocean-blue satin gown. Her hair was a swirl of crimson
light, her skin white and painted like a porcelain doll given just a kiss of life. Her eyes were warm and
brown and wry. She was well into her fifties and yet she carried herself like a starlet. She put the younger
women to shame. For a moment he could not believe the stories had had read in the paper, the rumors
he had heard. They seemed like cruel falsehoods fabricated by jealous wannabes.
 He had practically convinced himself of the fact when he spotted the out-of-uniform nurse walking a few
steps behind Kat. She was young, yet she gave off an unmistakable aura of authority. Alek had escaped
KatтАЩs initial perusal of the room, but now the nurse touched KatтАЩs elbow compulsively and Kat turned to
shoosh the girl away and the contact was made then. Alek dropped his eyes as Kandy KatтАЩs gaze flicked
over her admirers and then came to rest on him. He felt the demand of her attention, how her eyes
slowed the room and deafened him to the crowd. He looked up again. Her eyes had gone big like those