"Karen Koehler - Slayer--Black Miracles" - читать интересную книгу автора (Koehler Karen)

тАЬMaybe go for some coffee?тАЭ

тАЬI donтАЩt think so.тАЭ

тАЬI know a little soda shop down the avenue, all old-fashioned like. YouтАЩd like it.тАЭ

тАЬNo,тАЭ he said.

Her childlike eyes frowned as she searched for something else to ply him with. He was tempted to give
her a wad of cash if it got her off the streets for tonight. A girl like this was too sweet and young to
survive on her own. She was something in need of protection from this filthy, voracious city and all the
monsters lurking in it. He continued to watch her face, waiting for her next line. He knew he should have
brushed her off from the start, but still...

Sweet and young...IтАЩll bet she tastes like a candy-apple, Debra whispered.

тАЬStop it,тАЭ he muttered.

The girlsтАЩ eyes snapped back to his face. тАЬWhat?тАЭ

тАЬNothing...IтАЩm sorry...тАЭ

Her eyes clouded over, so he knew he had finally made the point with her. He only wished he didnтАЩt feel
like a bastard for turning her down. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but by the time he looked
up again she had rejoined the other working girls on the corner.

He thought about going back to her and shoving some money into her hand but he was distracted by an
all-too-familiar feeling insinuating itself between his shoulders and down his back, a feeling like someone
was vibrating a wire down his spine. тАЬFuck,тАЭ he whispered and let out his breath in a long, useless sigh.
The girl, assuming the oath was directed toward her, looked his way. Yet nothing could be further from
the truth.

Alek turned to study the museum. All day he had been brushing the edges of this infuriating feeling. And
now he saw the source of it: there in the parking lot stood a tall figure draped in black. It was leaning
against a Jaguar, watching him. A smile ticked one corner of the manтАЩs mouth when AlekтАЩs eyes alighted
on him. With his face otherwise completely impassive, he turned and shreeked his fingernails across the
hood of the Jag as he started walking around the lot towards Central Park West, where the fir trees were
the thickest and where many of the swamp maples had not yet lost their foliage. There in that dark place,
uninhabited except by rats, drunks and the children of the night, was where he wanted it.

So much for my quite night out, Alek thought and turned back to the cab.

It was already gone.

So much the better, he supposed, since there was business to attend to.
 4


He followed the slayer into the thicket of the park. Here the trees would muffle the sounds they made as
well as hide them from prying eyes. And anything that spilled over would be murdered by the raucous