"Linnea Sinclair - Rhapsody In The Key of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sinclair Linnea)

Rhapsody In The Key of Death:
From the Case Files of Dr. Jynx SanтАЩJaneiro
by Linnea Sinclair
Psychic Investigator Jynx SanтАЩJaneiro lives for the dead. But when the dead stop communicating
with her, Jynx faces heartbreakтАж and her greatest fear. Is it exhaustion, or something far worse,
that causes her revenant talents to fail in the midst of a murder investigation at an exclusive
resort and casino on the rim world of Lunazula?
This wasnтАЩt supposed to happen. The EIIsтАФEmotionally Intensified
ImagesтАФwere as fresh as the warm blood pooling beneath the dead manтАЩs
shoulders.
And just as lifeless.
I opened my eyes. In the shadows of the opulent hotel suite, a few feet from
where I knelt beside the body, Kieran watched, waitedтАФunofficially, of course.
HeтАЩd insisted on accompanying me. Said it was because he hated having his best
laid plansтАФheтАЩs annoyingly fond of punsтАФinterrupted. WeтАЩd been more undressed
than dressed in our suiteтАЩs bedroom, doing what lovers often did after a night in
LunazulaтАЩs glittering casinos and an excellent bottle of champagne, when every
pleasurable sensation had been violently wrenched from my existence. Consciously
IтАЩd known I was safe in our suite, in KieranтАЩs arms. Yet all I could feel was a Racker
750 pressed hard against my breastbone. Then an excruciatingly intense flare of pain
as my killer sent three discharges of illegal Z-4 ammo tumbling through my body,
clawing, raking, stripping my insides as they spun. Whoever I was, I died, slowly it
seemed. In truth it had been less than nine minutes.
I know how long it took because IтАЩd stared at the clock when the first
sickening chill of fear and psychic pain had flashed through me. And I was staring at
the clock now.
Nine minutes. It had taken nine minutes for me to throw on the clothes Kieran
had thrust into my hands, shove my feet into my soft boots and secure my stunner
into the waistband of my pants. IтАЩd hesitated only long enough to snatch my
Intergalactic Conclave-issue I.D. from the dresser. The one with my holo, badge and
official title: Dr. Jynx SanтАЩJaneiro, PI.
A hotel security officer exited the elevator only seconds after IтАЩd stepped into
the corridor. Security had responded promptly to KieranтАЩs call to the front desk
because Kieran was Lord Kieran Risardas, after all. The wiry, amber skinned man in
the dark blue uniform evidently hadnтАЩt expected me as well.
тАЬMтАЩLord.тАЭ HeтАЩd nodded respectfully to Kieran. His dark gaze had lingered a
bit on my hastily clothed form. The oversize v-necked sweater and leggings were
hardly seduction fare but in his mind I had no other obvious purpose. This was
Lunazula and KieranтАЩs name was, these days, synonymous with nobility. It had felt
good to thrust my badge in the security officerтАЩs face, watch him recoil, choke
slightly. Play-toy, heтАЩd mentally labeled me. Rich manтАЩs play-toy. Hot little redhead.
Only the last two adjectivesтАФlittle and redheadтАФwere correct. The first was
about as far from fact as you could get. I was anything but hot. IтАЩd been shivering,
my skin chilled. DeathтАФfresh, stark, invasiveтАФdoes that to most Psychic
Investigators. As IтАЩd been a mere hotel hallway-width away from the murder, it felt
as if it were doing it double time to me.
The officerтАЩs name tag, replete with the casinoтАЩs blue crescent moon-shaped
logo, read: V. Granville, Security Chief. His tone when heтАЩd acknowledged my
introduction had been pure skeptic. Corpse cop, heтАЩd tagged me, amending his initial
observation. IтАЩve been called worse.