"Laurell K. Hamilton - Anita Blake 07 - Burnt Offerings" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

largest body count I've ever seen at a fire. He did an office building the
same way, but missed a couple of exits. Twenty-three dead."
"How'd you catch him?"
"He started writing to the papers and the television. He wanted credit for
the deaths. He set fire to a couple of cops before we got him. We were wearing
those big silver suits that they wear to oil rig fires. He couldn't get them
to burn. We took him down to the police station, and that was the mistake. He
set it on fire."
"Where else could you have taken him?" I asked.
He shrugged massive shoulders. "I don't know, somewhere else. I was still
in the suit, and I held onto him. Told him we'd burn up together if he didn't
stop it. He laughed and set himself on fire." McKinnon sat his glass very
carefully on the edge of the desk.
"The flames were this soft blue color almost like a gas fire, but paler.
Didn't burn him, but somehow it set my suit on fire. The damn thing is rated
for something like 6,000 degrees, and it started to melt. Human skin burns at
120 degrees, but somehow I didn't melt into a puddle, just the suit. I had to
strip it off while he laughed. He walked out the door and he didn't think
anyone would be stupid enough to grab him."
I didn't say the obvious. I let him talk.
"I tackled him in the hallway and slammed him into a wall a couple of
times. Funny thing, where my skin touched him, it didn't burn. It was like the
fire crawled over a space and started on my arms, so my hands are fine."
I nodded. "There's a theory that a pyro's aura keeps them from burning.
When you touched his skin, you were too close to his own aura, his own
protection, to burn."
He stared at me. "Maybe that is what happened, because I threw him hard up
against the wall over and over. He was screaming, 'I'll burn you. I'll burn
you alive.' Then the fire changed color to yellow, normal, and he started to
burn. I let him go and went for the fire extinguisher. We couldn't put the
fire on his body out. The extinguishers worked on the walls, everything else,
but it wouldn't work on him. It was as if the fire was crawling out of his
body from deep inside. We'd dampen some of the flames, but there was just more
of it until he was made of fire."
McKinnon's eyes were distant and horror-filled as if he was still seeing
it. "He didn't die, Ms. Blake, not like he should have. He screamed for so
long and we couldn't help him. Couldn't help him." His voice trailed off. He
just sat there staring at nothing.
I waited and finally said, gently, "Why are you here, Captain?"
He blinked and sort of shook himself. "I think we've got another firebug on
our hands, Ms. Blake. Dolph said that if anyone could help us cut the loss of
life, it was you."
"Psychic ability isn't technically preternatural. It's just talent like
throwing a great curve ball."
He shook his head. "What I saw die on the floor of the station that day
wasn't human. It couldn't have been human. Dolph says you're the monster
expert. Help me catch this monster before he kills."
"He or she hasn't killed yet? It's just property damage?" I asked.
He nodded. "I could lose my job for coming to you. I should have bucked
this up the line and gotten permission from the chain of command, but we've