"Aisling Grey, Guardian- 01 - You Slay Me" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacAlister Katie)

6
You're doing this on purpose." I bent and used a plastic shopping bag to retrieve yet another of Jim's offerings left on the velvety green of the Tuileries. "This is why they call you a demon, isn't it? You're tormenting me with poop."
Jim, ignoring me, lumbered over to a small shrub and watered it.
I disposed of the bag in a proper receptacle. "Can we go now? You've pooped four times-you can't possibly have anything left inside you."
"Oh, like I enjoy dropping a load out in the open where anyone can see?" Jim snarled. "What sort of a demon do you take me for?"
"One who is going to have a quick visit to the neuterer if you don't shape up and get with the program," I said through my teeth. "And lower your voice! I told you there is to be no talking out in public."
Jim essayed an injured sniff, but allowed itself to be escorted toward the path that led to the north side of the busy Paris park.
"Wait a minute," I said, looking down on its front. "Where's your drool bib?"
My little demon in fur pursed its lips and tried to look innocent. "What bib?"
I spun around and searched the wide open green area we'd just visited. "The one I bought at the pet store. Jim, so help me, if you deliberately lost it-"
"Excuse me, I'm a demon! I'm the dread servant of a demon lord! I bring fear and loathing to all mortal hearts! Demons don't wear drool cloths!"
"Demons who slobber all over themselves do. I do not have the time to stop every five minutes to mop you up." I rustled around in my bag, pulling out a second bib that I had wisely purchased at the same time I bought Jim a collar and leash. I tied it around the demon's neck. "Don't lose this one! Now, let's go find Drake's lair. Which direction should we go?"
"How should I know? I'm just a walking drool bib."
I stopped walking and grabbed Jim by the fuzzy black ear nearest me.- "Listen here, you horrible little minion of Hell-"
"Abaddon," Jim said.
"What?"
It gave me an impatient look. "Abaddon. Don't you know anything? We who serve the dark masters refer to home sweet home as Abaddon, not the other word."
I glanced around quickly to make sure no one saw me talking to my dog, then made squinty eyes. "Why?"
I swear Jim shrugged. "Names have power. The one you keep tossing around has more power than most. I would have thought that as a Guardian you knew that, but I forgot that I've been bound to the Forrest Gump of Guardians. Lucky, lucky me."
"Right," I said, losing the remainder of my patience. "You have made me waste two whole hours while I ran around finding food that you would accept, not to mention undergoing a detailed tour of the Tiiileries while you peed on every available shrub-"
"I like to pee. It's fun. We don't get to do anything like this back home."
I ignored the interruption, keeping a wary eye out for eavesdroppers. "-as well as dropped demon ploppies everywhere, which / had to clean up, so now it's time for you to do the job I summoned you to do-find Drake's lair. Which direction is it?"
A mother and her two little kids strolled by, the woman pausing to say something harsh to me. I had no idea what her problem was until I looked down to find Jim writhing in apparent agony, making the most tortured face a New-fie could possibly make.
I released Jim's ear and patted it on the head as I told her, "Don't pay any attention to it-it's trying to drive me insane."
"Sounds like a short trip," Jim muttered just loud enough for me to hear as the woman snarled something in what I was willing to bet was gutter French before she stormed off.
"Oh, thank you so very much. Just make me look like the type of a person who beats up on dogs!"
"You held my ear hard," Jim accused.
"You're a demon!" I all but shouted, wanting to tear out my hair in frustration. "You're used to eternal torment, not that I was holding your ear hard. So stop complaining, stop stalling, stop creating distractions and do the job I brought you here to do!"
"I don't suppose you'd care to swing by another boucherie for a morsel more of that prime-aged beef you bought me this morning?"
I let the demon see in my eyes its fate if it didn't do what I wanted.
Jim sighed and plopped down in an unhappy slump. "I can't."
Another group of children was approaching. I tugged on the leash, heading to a quiet area next to some trees. "You can't what?" I asked when we were far enough away so we couldn't be heard.
"I can't find the wyvern's lair."
I counted to ten to keep from strangling Jim, not that I was entirely sure I could since it (a) wasn't technically a living being and (b) was approximately the size of a small pony, and thus strangling with my bare hands would be difficult.
Through still-clenched teeth I said, "But not completely out of the question. Why can't you find Drake's, lair?"
Jim rolled its eyes. "Because I don't know where it is! Do I look like I have the phone book memorized?"
"You're a demon. You have demonic powers. I may not be the savviest Guardian around"-that was the understatement of the year-"but I do know that demons have all sorts of abilities, and surely one of them must be to find someone who is being sought."
"In a normal situation, yes," Jim said, looking longingly at a bank of rhododendrons. I jerked on the leash to remind it that I was waiting. "But my case is a little different. I... eh... don't have any powers."
The last sentence was spoken so softly, I thought I'd misheard. "You what?"
It glared at me. "I don't have any powers, OK? Amaymon stripped me of them when he cast me out of his legions. You want to rub a little salt into the wound? Go right ahead. I'm just a demon; I don't have any feelings."
"You don't," I agreed. Jim sniffed and turned away as if tears were imminent. I reminded myself that demons might take the form of a human (or if they were particularly deranged, a dog), but they weren't really human. They didn't have feelings that could be hurt with mere words. "You can stop pretending you're crying, because I'm not buying it. Oh, geez, will you stop? You're making me feel like the biggest bully on the face of the earth."
I pulled a tissue out of my bag, wiping up the doggy tears that Jim had somehow managed to manufacture.
"You yelled at me."
I tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it came out a semihysterical laugh. "If anyone ever told me that a demon would make me feel guilty about asking it to do the job it was summoned to do, I'd say that person was a grade-A lunatic."
Jim gave me an accusatory look.
I raised my hands in surrender and staggered over to a shady bench to collapse with defeat. "I give up-I just absolutely give up. I asked Drake nicely to give me back my dragon, and he refused. I asked him a few questions, and he gave me the runaround for answers. I summoned up a demon, and I got a demon that's been kicked out of He ... Abaddon. Why am I trying anymore? I should just go to Inspector Proust and save him the bother of hunting me down, because he's sure as heck going to lock me up and throw away the key when I can't prove my innocence."
Jim sat next to my feet. "You want me to find some balloons for this pity party you're having?"
"Go away," I mumbled, my head in my hands as I tried to work up a few tears of self-pity. They wouldn't come, damn it. "Just go back to wherever it is you came from, and leave me alone."