"James McCann - Kith2" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCann James)

тАЬAnd his bringing you over shows heтАЩs as self-serving as he always was. You didnтАЩt
deserve this. No one does.тАЭ
тАЬGood job avoiding the question, but I still want to know what he did that was so
unforgivable. Even I can forgive him....тАЭ
тАЬOf course you can!тАЭ She rose, casting the sleeping bag aside. тАЬHe bit you out of
respect and insured you wouldnтАЩt be taken by Cimmeria.тАЭ Closing her eyes Keelin took a
 Kith - 2

few steady breaths. Sitting by Trent she opened them and said, тАЬIтАЩll tell you what
happened, but only because youтАЩre my brother.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩll keep it a secret. I prom...тАЭ Trent was cut short by Keelin placing her hand on his
lips.
тАЬFirst lesson: DonтАЩt make promises.тАЭ
тАЬWhy?тАЭ
Keelin smiled. тАЬTrust is gained through action, not words. тАШI promiseтАЩ guarantees
nothing. You donтАЩt know what the future holds, so donтАЩt vow itтАЩll turn out a certain way.тАЭ
тАЬBut I wonтАЩt tell anyone.тАЭ
тАЬThen you will earn my trust through action.тАЭ
тАЬHow were you Begotten?тАЭ
тАЬI was sixteen, promised to a man I didnтАЩt love, and cock-sure I knew all there was to
know...тАЭ

Keelin always felt safe when she rode Thunder. He was the fastest steed in all Ireland,
and the toughest to train. Sitting upon his back proudly, enveloped by the moorтАЩs thick fog
as though held by a BlacksmithтАЩs glove, she listened to the hunting hounds bark as they
drew near. She had hoped to lose her pursuers in the thick woodlands, but as Thunder
crept forward at a snailтАЩs pace she knew they would soon catch her. Had it not been for the
smithтАЩs glove she would have kicked her stallion and turned his gallop into a storm! But as
the barks grew ever louder, Keelin knew that where blindness encumbered her scent aided
them.
Her greatest foe this night was not the howling from within the mist, but a more
terrifying enemy that followed. One that transformed gnarly branches into sinewy fingers
and every shimmer of light eyes that studied her every step. The cold air reminded her that
as autumn passed the world would soon die, covered in a death-blanket made from an
AngelтАЩs frozen tears. And, Keelin knew, death begot death.
She listened to the houndsтАЩ barks grow louder. Closing her eyes she felt glad that
Thunder knew the way, for her imagination fooled her less when she shut her eyes. Or, at
least it seemed that way until her horse stopped.
Keelin opened her eyes reluctantly, expecting to see her Father and the men heтАЩd hired
to hunt for her. Her heart pumped heated blood to her head as she looked upon the men
and hounds who stood in her way. The quick wisps of smoky air leaping from her throat
stopped. She hadnтАЩt opened her eyes to look upon her Father, hunters, and hounds, but
six strangers and six wolves.
The barking hounds, separated from her by the smithтАЩs glove, howled as if they knew
they had lost their prey.
Keelin noticed a seventh man draw from the mist before her as if crafted by the woods
itself. He donned a long, midnight cape clasped at the neck by golden hooks, and a collar
that rose above his head like a mouth poised to scream. From within the silent bellow two
icy blue eyes glowed above pursed lips that sat relaxed in an ebony grin. The mist parted
into a dome around them, as if his glee were a command for it to abscond, and though