"Pike, Christopher - Last Vampire 2 - Black Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

I appear anxious. "I'm trying to find my car. It broke down about an hour ago and I went looking for help and these boys started chasing me. They threw water balloons at me and threatened me." I shiver, catching his eye, pressing his belief buttons. "But I managed to get away."
The cop looks me over from head to foot, but I doubt he notices the bloodstains on my clothes. In the dark they would be hard to see on black clothes. Plus my gaze has shriveled his will. He is swayed by my great beauty, my obvious youth, my long blond hair, which I have let down. He throws his partner behind the wheel a look, then turns back to me and smiles.
"You're lucky all they threw was water balloons," he says. "This is no area to be walking alone at night. Hop in the back and we'll take you back to your car."
It will appear odd to decline the offer. "Thank you," I say, reaching for the door. I climb in the rear seat of the patrol car. His partner, a younger man, glances back at me.
"Were you inside the Coliseum just now?" he asks.
I catch his eye as well. "No," I say clearly. "How could I possibly be in the Coliseum? The fence is fifteen feet high."
He nods like a puppet. "We've just had some trouble in the area is all."
"I understand," I say.
A man calls on their radio. The fat officer explains how they ran into me. The man on the other end is not impressed with my story. He orders them to hold me until he arrives. There is strength in the man's voice, even over the staticky line. I wonder if I will be able to control him as easily as the other two. We sit and wait for the boss to arrive; the officers apologize for the delay. I consider drinking both officers' blood and leaving them dazed and incoherent, but I've always had a thing for cops. The fat one offers me a doughnut, which does little to satisfy my deeper hunger.
The man who arrives is not LAPD but FBI. He pulls up alone in an unmarked car, and I am told to get in up front I do not resist. He introduces himself as Special Agent Joel Drake, and he has an aura of authority about him. A young man, he has blond hair almost as light as my own, and blue eyes as well, although these are darker than mine. He wears a sea blue sport coat, expensive white slacks. He is strikingнly handsome. I feel, as I climb in beside him, like an actor in a series. Agent Vampire-there should be such a show. His face is tan, his features sharp and intelligent. He studies me in the dome light before shutting his door. He notices that I am soaking wet, although, once again, the bloodstains on my black outfit are all but invisible. The other officers drive off.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Alisa Perne."
"Where's your car?"
"I don't know exactly. I've been walking for an hour, lost."
"You say you got hit with water balloons thrown at you by a bunch of guys? You expect me to believe that?"
"Yes," I say, and I catch his eye, such beautiful eyes really. I hesitate to blunt his will too forcibly, afraid it might damage him. Yet he is strong; he will not be moved without great power. Nevertheless, I cannot let him take me in for questioning. Lowering my voice, I pitch my tone in such a manner that he will feel as if I am speaking between his ears, as if he were in fact thinking what I am saying.
"I have done nothing wrong," I say gently. "Everyнthing I tell you is true. I am a young woman, helpless, a stranger here. The best thing you can do is take me to my car."
He considers what I say for several seconds. I know my voice runs like an echo inside him. Then he shakes himself, seemingly throwing off my implant. I can sense his emotions, although I cannot read his thoughts. His doubt remains strong. He reaches out and shuts his door, the engine is already running.
"Have you been inside the Coliseum tonight?" he asks.
"No. What's inside the Coliseum?"
"Never mind. The police say they found you here, in the parking lot. What were you doing here?"
"Fleeing from the guys who harassed me."
"How many were there?"
"I'm not sure. Three or four."
"We have a report from two young men in the area. They say their buddy was attacked by someone who fits your description. Minutes ago we found their buddy's body, lying in a gutter. What do you have to say about that?"
I grimace. "I know nothing about it. How did he die?"
Joel frowns. "Violently."
I shake my head, looking anxious. "I was just trying to get back to my car. Can't you take me there? It's been a long night for me."
"Where are you from?"
"Oregon. I don't know L.A. I took a wrong exit and then my car stalled. But with your help, I might be able to find it." I reach over and touch his arm, holding his eyes once more, but softly, without fire. "Please?" I say.
He nods finally and puts the car in gear. "Which exit did you get off?"
"I forget the name. It's up here. I can show you, and maybe we can retrace my steps." I point as we pull out of the parking lot and head north in the direction of the freeway. "Honestly, I've never hurt anyone in my life."
He chuckles bitterly. "I don't imagine you had anything to do with what happened tonight."
"I've heard L.A.'s a violent town."
He nods grimly. "Especially lately. I suppose you've read the papers?"
"Yes. Are you in charge of the murder investigaнtion?"
"Several of us are overseeing it."
"Have you any leads?"
"No. But that's off the record."
I smile. "I'm not a reporter, Agent Drake."
He smiles faintly. "You shouldn't get within twenty miles of this area at night. How long are you going to be in L.A.?"
"Why?"
"We might need to ask you more questions later."
"I'll be around. I can give you a number once we find my car."
'That's fine. Did you get off the Harbor Freeway or the Santa Monica?"
"I was on the Santa Monica Freeway. Let's continue north a few blocks. I think I'll recognize the right street"
"How old are you Alisa?"
"Twenty-two."
"What's your business in L.A.?"
"I'm visiting friends. I'm thinking of going to school here next year."