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

traffic forever passing on the avenue opposite the park.

Funny how the slayer would choose to take the path that led down to the childrenтАЩs carousel. Alek
followed, his ears, eyes and every other one of his six senses pricked and turned out over the whole park
like radar. There were no other creatures like him in the immediate vicinity. None that he could feel,
anyway. Only this one. And there were no other humans, either. If there were, he would smell them.

Not a setup then. Just an old fashioned vendetta.

Alek stopped when they reached the carousel. He drew his sword.

The man turned around and stuffed his hands casually into the pockets of his full-length motorcycle coat.
He was larger than Alek, which was saying a lot. He stood at least a head taller and had the
broad-shouldered, well-muscled body of a comic book character. He trained. His skin was near ebony
in color and shone like wet silk. His shoulder-length hair was done up in earthenware beads, a look
recently popular with many African-American slayers. He had the cold, effective look of a born killer.
His eyes were completely focused. Completely dead. So young...and yet so ready to die for his Coven.

Again a pang of sadness sank through AlekтАЩs heart, this time for other reasons. тАЬItтАЩs such a nice rainy
night. You donтАЩt really want to die here tonight,тАЭ Alek whispered as he slipped the Double Serpent
Katana up under his arm. He affected a light, almost casual, stance, when in fact he was terrified, as
always. As always, he stuck the fear down an endless black hole along with all the other things he
preferred not to deal with. Fear got you nowhere. Fear got you dead.

тАЬYouтАЩre the Slayer?тАЭ the slayer said.

тАЬI am.тАЭ There was no point in denying it, playing games.

тАЬYou made an enemy of me when you killed the Master.тАЭ

The Master. Amadeus the First Father. Covenmaster. Yes, well, he had made an enemy of about 3,000
other slayers when he did that. And a tragic number of them seemed to be standing in line to claim his
head for it. So far, none had succeeded. Fewer still lived to tell the tale of how they had lost.

тАЬAnd you are...?тАЭ Alek asked it of all the slayers who challenged him. He tried to keep a running list of
the names because you never knew when someone else would show up trying to avenge a fallen friend or
relation. It seemed an endless loop somehow.

тАЬThe nameтАЩs Samson,тАЭ said the great black slayer, sliding his hands out of his pockets and folding them a
bit too casually across his massive chest.
 A belt of knives across his chest, said Debra.A tachi on his left side. A tanto for backup on his
right. Magnum in the small of his back, full of hollow-point iron bullets. I think our boy doesnтАЩt
trust his sword arm too well.

Alek nodded. Samson looked just the type--all bluff and no stuff, as his best friend and chosen brother
Booker used to say. But as always, he was grateful nonetheless for DebraтАЩs observations. He checked
the sky overhead. She seemed nearer to him somehow, but whether that was because of the situation or
because of the HunterтАЩs Moon just beginning to rise, he didnтАЩt know. Nearer and somehow sweeter and
much more human. He smelled her silken skin, felt her presence wrap itself protectively about him.I donтАЩt
want you hurt , she said.Be careful.