"Robert Weinberg - Logical Magician 01 - A Logical Magician" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinberg Robert)

Hissing like a locomotive, Walsh broke Simon's hold and shoved the changeling
hard into the far wall. The faerie collapsed to the floor in a daze.
"I'll deal with you later," he growled at the Brit. The vampire turned to Jack, his
red eyes blazing. He snarled, showing his huge yellow fangs. "No more Mr. Nice Guy.
Talk or suffer the consequences."
"Take a bite of this," yelled Jack and flung the contents of the spice bottle in
Walsh's face. A gritty powder caught the vampire across the cheeks.
The monster shrieked in agony. His skin sizzled like bacon on a griddle. A hundred
black burns dotted his features. He staggered back, hands clawing at his eyes.
"Time to leave," said Jack, grabbing a groggy Simon by the arm. Behind them,
Walsh howled like a wolf. "Definitely."
Hastily, they scampered down the fire stairs. Jack had no idea how long Walsh
would be out of action. Waiting for the building's notoriously slow elevators was out of
the question.
Huffing and puffing, he and Simon tumbled out the emergency exit located at the
side of the complex.
"Where to?" asked the changeling. "He'll be after us in a minute. And this time, he's
not going to be so polite."
 "The gym," said Jack, pulling in one deep breath after another. "If we can make it
there, I think we can arrange a surprise or two for Mr. Walsh."
"Forward the Light Brigade," declared Simon. "Etc., etc."
Wearily, Jack set off towards the athletic center. Moving was an effort. It felt as if
there were lead weights attached to his arms and legs. The day's activities were wearing
him down. He needed to rest. But first he had to deal with a vampire.
"Sorry for hesitating," said Simon, as they ran. "Damned monster scared me
witless. We faeries weren't raised to be heroes. Vampires are out of our league."
"No need to apologize," wheezed Jack. "You acted when it mattered. That's what
counts."
The changeling laughed. "Simon Goodfellow to the rescue. By the way, what was
that stuff you threw at our toothy friend? I didn't know they made anti-vampire powder."
"Not exactly, but close enough," answered Jack. "According to the legends,
vampires can't stand garlic. So I emptied a container of garlic salt on Walsh. It worked
better than I expected."
Simon whistled in admiration. "Pretty quick thinking. Maybe Merlin picked the right
guy after all."
"You better hope so," said Jack as they ran up the steps to the athletic complex.
"For both our sakes."

10

It took Walsh twenty minutes to find them, which didn't give Jack the time he needed to
prepare his trap. He and Simon were still moving equipment when they heard the fire
doors slam open upstairs.
"That sounds like a pretty pissed-off vampire," said Simon. "Those doors are
reinforced with steel. They weigh a ton."
"Close enough," agreed Jack, licking his lips apprehensively. "If I can stall Walsh
for a few minutes, will you be able to finish setting things up? We won't have a second
chance."
"No problem," said Simon. "It's a piece of cake. The big question is whether or not
he's actually vulnerable to your surprise."