"Ashley, Amanda - After Sundown" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ashley Amanda)

"You're not making sense."
"You'll understand everything soon enough." He had given her a little push and she had stumbled forward.
She had seen Grigori then. Chiavari lay still as death on the bed, bound by a heavy silver chain. The same chain that had once bound Alexi.
"What have you done to him?" she asked.
Edward had putted a syringe out of his coat pocket. "I put him to sleep, and then I bled him." He had nodded at the basin on the table beside her chair. It was a large bowl, filled with blood. Grigori's blood. Enough to weaken him.
"He's not… not dead?" Marisa had asked.
"Not yet."
'Edward, please…"
He had pushed her toward the chair in the corner. "Sit down, Marisa. Alexi will be here soon."
"Alexi!" She had looked at him in alarm. "He's coming here?"
Edward nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Marisa."
She sat down heavily. "Why are you doing this?"
"I have no choice."
"What do you mean ? Of course you do…" The words had died in her throat. "He's done something to you, hasn't he? Oh, Lord, you're like Antoinette."
"No. She had no mind of her own. Alexi has left me my mind, Marisa, but he has robbed me of my will. This is worse. I know what I'm doing, and even though I don't want to, I can't refuse."
"Fight him, Edward! You've got to fight him."
"I can't." He remembered pacing the floor. "He's too strong. He took my blood, made me take his. I can hear his thoughts in my mind. I can't shut them out! I can't shut him out!"
"He's going to kill us, isn't he?"
"He's going to kill Grigori. I'm afraid he has worse things in mind for you. "He had dropped to his knees in front of her and putted a short piece of rope from his pocket. "I'm sorry. So sorry."
Marisa had jerked her knee up in a hard, swift motion. It had caught him under the jaw. His head had snapped backward and she had kicked him in the chest with all her might.
Jumping to her feet, she ran for the door, but he had caught her by the ankle.
"Let me go!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"
She had struggled against him, but he was too strong for her. Twisting her arm behind her back, he quickly tied her wrists together, then guided her back to the chair and pushed her into it.
"Marisa, I'm sorry."
She was shaking now, frightened beyond words.
There had been a ripple in the air, a stirring, as Grigori began to emerge from his drugged sleep. Edward had pulled a stake from inside his coat.
"Edward, don't!"
"I won't," he said. "Alexi wants that pleasure for himself."
"Edward, please, please don't do this. Please. I'd rather be dead than become Alexi's creature."
"Marisa." He had struggled against Alexi's hold on his mind, but to no avail.
"Please, Edward. He'll make me like Antoinette. "A soulless zombie, a creature without a mind of her own.
"I can't fight him," he had said, panting heavily. "He's too strong. I can't help you." He had doubled over then, racked by pain. "Stop," he begged. "Please stop." He had writhed in pain, all else forgotten, as Alexi's power washed over him.
And then Alexi was there. Darkness seemed to trail in his wake.
"So," Alexi said. "We are all together at last. Edward, it's time I made the woman mine. You will leave the room. Wait for me in the hallway."
The vampire had sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling as the smell of cold blood reached his nostrils. He jerked his chin toward the bowl. "Get rid of that." Cold blood. It was an abomination.
"Yes, master, "Edward had replied. Moving like a robot, he had picked up the bowl and moved toward the door.
"Edward, "Marisa cried. "Don't leave me! Please, help me!"
But he had been helpless. He had tried to turn to face her, his whole being longing to help her, to strike Alexi down, but the vampire's power was too strong to resist. He had told himself to stop, to turn, but his body refused to obey. One step after another, he had moved toward the door.
"Edward!"
He had heard the fear and anguish in her voice, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing. And then he had heard Chiavari's voice inside his head. "Ramsey, I've taken your blood, made you a part of me. Listen to my voice. Draw on my strength. You can fight him. Think! Combine your will with mine. Together we can defeat him."
"I can't." He had stared into the bowl, at the blood that was so dark it was almost black.
"You can!" Grigori's voice echoed in his mind. "Marisa needs help, help I can't give her. Damn you! Fight!"
Cradling the bowl in one hand, he had opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He heard Marisa's shriek of terror as he closed the door behind him. Standing outside the room, he heard Alexi laugh as Marisa struggled against him. He had looked at the blood again and then lifted the bowl to his lips.
Grigori's blood had filled him with power, lessened Alexi's hold on his mind. Bursting into the room, he had hurled himself at Alexi, the stake in his hand driving toward the vampire's heart. But the vampire was strong and fast, and the stake had missed his heart. Alexi had flung him against the wall and buried his fangs in his throat, not to drink, but to kill…
And he would have died, had it not been for Chiavari. Grigori had slain Alexi and then, at Marisa's urging, forced the Dark Gift upon Edward. He had a vague memory of Grigori holding his bleeding wrist to his lips, urging him to drink. The vampire's voice had been soft yet compelling, soothing as a mother's lullaby. "Drink, Edward," he had urged. "Drink your fill."
And he had suckled the vampire's wrist like a babe at its mother's breast…
 
He looked into Chiavari's eyes and knew the other man was also remembering.
"What brings you here, Ramsey?" Chiavari asked brusquely.
Ramsey clenched his hands into tight fists. It galled him to ask Chiavari for help, not only because he thoroughly disliked the man, but because Chiavari had won Marisa's heart.