"Masquerade Cycle - 02 - Nemesis" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)

lifted a lean leg over the sill. The figure in bed never
stirred. Once in the room, he closed the shutters and went
to the door. It was barred with a carved wooden beam as
thick as his arm. Such primitive safety measures were
useless against an agent of the evincar. He crept to the bed,
removing the sticky pads from his hands as he went. The
agent knelt beside the bed and studied the face of his
target. She was the one, all right. How many days had he
looked into her eyes and felt love? How many days did it
take the evincar's minions to condition such feelings out of
him?

With a sudden motion, he yanked his knife from its
sheath. It wavered for a moment in the lamplight as the
deepest vestiges of his old self struggled with his new
loyalties. He could not... resist. The blade slid quietly into
the nest of soft boughs. He took out the vial provided by
the overlords and used the knife tip to pierce the wax seal
on the stopper.

One drop is sufficient.

He was supposed to pour a single drop in the eye or on
the lips, but he saw something that made him change his
method. A feather headdress hung from a peg above the
target's bed. Silently, he plucked a single blue feather from
the stylish array. Not so long ago he'd worn feathers like
this.

He dipped the feather into the vial and gently pulled it
out. Clear liquid clung to the tip. It smelled fresh, like a
field of newly mown grass.

3



Nemesis

He brought the feather to the sleeping girl's mouth. For
a reason no one will ever know, she sensed his nearness
and awoke just as the elixir touched her lips.

Her eyes opened wide. The agent dropped the vial and
feather and reached for his knife.

She must not scream.

No sound came from her slightly parted lips. She was
dead. At the exact moment the deadly potion touched her