"Laurell K. Hamilton - Anita Blake 06 - Killing Dance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

There were three kinds of people at Catherine's dinner party: the living,
the dead, and the occasionally furry. Out of the eight of us, six were human,
and I wasn't sure about two of those, myself included.
I wore black pants, a black velvet jacket with white satin lapels, and an
oversized white vest that doubled for a shirt. The Browning 9mm actually
matched the outfit, but I kept it hidden. This was the first party Catherine
had thrown since her wedding. Flashing a gun might put a damper on things.
I'd had to take off the silver cross that I always wore and put it in my
pocket because there was a vampire standing in front of me and the cross had
started glowing when he entered the room. If I'd known there were going to be
vamps at the party, I'd have worn a collar high enough to hide the cross. They
only glow when they're out in the open, generally speaking.
Robert, the vampire in question, was tall, muscular, and handsome in a
model-perfect sort of way. He had been a stripper at Guilty Pleasures. Now he
managed the club. From worker to management: the American dream. His hair was
blond, curly, and cut quite short. He was wearing a brown silk shirt that fit
him perfectly and matched the dress that his date was wearing.
Monica Vespucci's health club tan had faded around the edges, but her
makeup was still perfect, her short auburn hair styled into place. She was
pregnant enough for me to have noticed and happy enough about it to be
irritating.
She smiled brilliantly at me. "Anita, it has been too long."
What I wanted to say was, "Not long enough." The last time I'd seen her,
she had betrayed me to the local master vampire. But Catherine thought she was
her friend, and it was hard to disillusion her without telling the whole
story. The whole story included some unsanctioned killing, some of it done by
me. Catherine's a lawyer and a stickler for law and order. I didn't want to
put her in a position where she had to compromise her morals to save my ass.
So Monica was her friend, which meant I had been polite all through dinner,
from appetizer all the way to dessert. I'd been polite mainly because Monica
had been at the other end of the table. Now, unfortunately, we were mingling
in the living room and I couldn't seem to shake her.
"It doesn't seem that long," I said.
"It's been almost a year." She smiled up at Robert. They were holding
hands. "We got married." She touched her glass to the top of her belly. "We
got knocked up." She giggled.
I stared at them both. "You can't get knocked up by a hundred-year-old
corpse." Okay, I'd been polite long enough.
Monica grinned at me. "You can if the body temperature is raised for long
enough and you have sex often enough. My obstetrician thinks the hot tub did
us in."
This was more than I wanted to know. "Have you had the amnio yet?"
The smile faded from her face, leaving her eyes haunted. I was sorry I'd
asked. "We've got another week to wait."
"I'm sorry, Monica, Robert. I hope the test comes back clean." I did not
mention Vlad syndrome, but the words hung on the air. It was rare but not as
rare as it used to be. Three years of legalized vampirism and Vlad syndrome
was the highest rising birth defect in the country. It could result in some
really horrible disabilities, not to mention death for the baby. With that