"Freda Warrington - A Taste of Blood Wine" - читать интересную книгу автора (Warrington Freda)

"Do you think I don't know what you feel?" Kristian came up beside
him and rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You cannot die, yet
you are still obsessed by the idea of death. The further away it
recedes, the faster you pursue it and the more it eludes you. But why
torment yourself like this, when I have told you the answers a
thousand times?"
"You think you know everything," Karl said wearily. "I don't know
how you can remain so arrogant, after you've looked on this."
"There is nothing arrogant about knowing the truth," Kristian
hissed, his grip tightening. "Evil, ha! I could pass along those
wretched lines of soldiers like a hurricane, an angel of death worse
than any shell-fire. I'll show them war, I am war!" His lips drew
back from his long white teeth. " 'The Lord is a man of war'тАж but I
choose to remain outside it because it's nothing to us, a battle in an
ant-hill. We have the whole sky, the Crystal Ring. Why obsess
yourself with the petty concerns of man? Come back with me,
Karl." Kristian's voice became persuasive with a fatherly charm that
seemed to promise all. He ran a finger along the vampire's cheek.
"You always were such a beauty. You shine like a star in this filth,
it can't touch you. It can't touch us."
The vampire was silent.
"I can make you come back."
"I know," said Karl. "But you won't."
Kristian smiled, but his eyes were cold as poison. "I would rather
not, because I am waiting for the happy day when you see God's
truth and come back of your own accord."

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A Taste


"You will have to be very patient." Karl felt trapped by Kristian's
domineering power and size, yet the feeling was strangely distant.
He said, quietly and rashly, "I look at you and I see no answers. I
see only hollowness. God and the DevilтАж they are just words,
attempts to put shapes on the unknowable. They may sound
convincing but they evaporate as soon as you speak them and the
world is still there, unchanged. Cling to your ideas, if you must have
something to believe in. Don't try to impose them on me. They give
no shape to this madness."
Sudden fury congealed in Kristian's eyes. Karl knew he had
provoked him, but he was unprepared for the violence of Kristian's
reaction.
"Blasphemy!" roared Kristian. With one hand he held Karl's arm
hard enough to crush the muscles to pulp on bone; with the other he
tore at Karl's collar and thrust a sharp fingernail deep into the flesh
of his throat.
Gasping at the savage pain, Karl gripped his wrist and tried to pull