"Hamilton, Laurell - Blake 01 - Guilty Pleasures" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

I stood and put the cell door at my back for the umpteenth time that night.
The hurt ratman said, "You are only our king until you die. If you stand against the master, that will be soon. She is powerful, more powerful than you." His voice still sounded weak, thready, but he was recovering. Anger will do that to you.
The rat king leaped, a black blur in motion. He jerked the ratman off his feet, holding him with slightly bent elbows, feet dangling off the ground. He held him close to his face. "I am your king, and you will obey me or I will kill you." Clawed hands dug into the blond ratman's throat, until he scrambled for air. The rat king tossed the ratman down the stairs. He fell tumbling and nearly boneless.
He glared up from the bottom in a painful, gasping heap. The hatred in his eyes would have lit a bonfire.
"Are you all right?" the new ratman asked.
It took me a minute to realize he was speaking to me. I nodded. Apparently I was being rescued, not that I had need of it. Of course not. "Thank you."
"I did not come to save you," he said. "I have forbidden my people to hunt for the vampire. That is why I came."
"Well, I know where I rate, somewhere above a flea. Thank you anyway. Whatever your motives."
He nodded. "You are welcome."
I noticed a burn scar on his left forearm. It was the shape of a crude crown. Someone had branded him. "Wouldn't it be easier just to carry around a crown and scepter?"
He glanced down at his arm, then gave that rat smile, teeth bare. "This leaves my hands free."
I looked up into his eyes to see if he was teasing me, and I couldn't tell. You try reading rat faces.
"What do the vampires want with you?" he asked.
"They want me to work for them."
"Do it. They'll hurt you if you don't."
"Like they'll hurt you if you keep the rats away?"
He shrugged, an awkward motion. "Nikolaos thinks she is queen of the rats because that is her animal to call. We are not merely rats, but men, and we have a choice. I have a choice."
"Do what she wants, and she won't hurt you," I said.
Again that smile. "I give good advice. I do not always take it."
"Me either," I said.
He stared at me out of one black eye, then turned towards the door. "They are coming."
I knew who "they" were. The party was over. The vampires were coming. The rat king sprang down the stairs and scooped up the fallen ratman. He tossed him over his shoulder as if it were no effort, then he was gone, running for the tunnel, fast, fast as a mouse surprised by the kitchen light. A dark blur.
I heard heels clicking down the hallway, and I stepped away from the door. It opened, and Theresa stood on the landing. She stared down at me and the empty room, hands on hips, mouth squeezed tight. "Where are they?"
I held up my wounded hand. "They did their part, then they left."
"They weren't supposed to leave," she said. Theresa made an exasperated sound low in her throat. "It was that rat king of theirs, wasn't it?"
I shrugged. "They left; I don't know why."
"So calm, so unafraid. Didn't the rats frighten you?"
I shrugged again. When something works, stay with it.
"They were not supposed to draw blood." She stared at me. "Are you going to shape shift next full moon?" Her voice held a hint of curiosity. Curiosity killed the vampire. One could always hope.
"No," I said, and I left it at that. No explanation. If she really wanted one, she could just beat me against the wall until I told her what she wanted to hear. She wouldn't even break a sweat. Of course, Aubrey was being punished for hurting me.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. "The rats were supposed to frighten you, animator. They don't seem to have done their
"Maybe I don't frighten that easily." I met her eyes without ` any effort. They were just eyes.
Theresa grinned at me suddenly, flashing fang. "Nikolaos will find something that frightens you, animator. For fear is power." She whispered the last as if afraid to say it too loud.
What did vampires fear? Did visions of sharpened stakes and garlic haunt them, or were there worse things? How do you frighten the dead?
"Walk in front of me, animator. Go meet your master."
"Isn't Nikolaos your master as well, Theresa?"
She stared at me, face blank, as if the laughter had been an illusion. Her eyes were cold and dark. The rats' eyes had held more personality. "Before the night is out, animator, Nikolaos will be everyone's master."
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Jean-Claude's power has made you foolish."
"No," I said, "it isn't that."
"Then what, mortal?"
"I would rather die than be a vampire's flunky."
Theresa never blinked, only nodded, very slowly. "You may get your wish."
The hair at the back of my neck crawled. I could meet her gaze, but evil has a certain feel to it. A neck-ruffling, throattightening feeling that tightens your gut. I have felt it around humans as well. You don't have to be undead to be evil. But it helps.
I walked in front of her. Theresa's boots clicked sharp echoes from the hallway. Maybe it was only my fear talking, but I felt her staring at me, like an ice cube sliding down my spine.


11
The room was huge, like a warehouse, but the walls were solid, massive stone. I kept waiting for Bela Lugosi to sweep around the comer in his cape. What was sitting against one wall was almost as good.
She had been about twelve or thirteen when she died. Small, half-formed breasts showed under a long flimsy dress. It was pale blue and looked warm against the total whiteness of her skin. She had been pale when alive; as a vampire she was ghostly. Her hair was that shining white-blonde that some children have before their hair darkens to brown. This hair would never grow dark.