"Tanya Huff - Keeper's Chronicles 2 - The Second Summoning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

declared, whiskers bristling, “am tired of it.”
 “Just pretending for a moment that this is any of your business,” Claire told
him tightly, “a week isn’t that long . . .”

“You knew each other for almost two months before that.”

“... we’re in one bed now because the site requires a male and a female
component . . .”

“You’re saying you had no control over the last seven days?”

“. . . and did it ever occur to you that things haven’t progressed because
there’s been an audience perpetually in attendance?”

“Oh, sure. Blame me.”

“Could I say something here?” Rolling toward the center of the bed, Dean
McIssac rose up on one elbow, blue eyes squinting a little behind wire-frame glasses
as he came into the light from the bedside table. “I’m thinking this isn’t the time or
the place to talk about, you know, stuff.”

“Talk?” Austin snorted. “You’re missing my point.”

The young man’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Well, it sure as scrod isn’t the time
or the place to do anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s a dead . . . lady standing at the foot of the bed.”

Claire craned her neck to see around the cat.

Arms folded over a turquoise sweater, her weight on one spandex-covered hip,
the ghost raised an artificially arched ectoplasmic eyebrow. “Boo,” she suggested.

“Boo yourself,” Claire sighed.

Cheryl Poropat, or rather the ghost of Cheryl Poropat, hovered above the X
marked on the carpet with ashes and dust, the scuffed heels of her ankle boots about
two inches from the floor. “So, you’re here to send me on?”

“That’s right.” Claire sat down in one of the room’s two chairs. Like most
motel chairs they weren’t designed to be actually sat in, but she felt that remaining in
bed with Dean, even if they were both fully clothed, undermined her authority.

“You some kind of an exorcist?”

“No, I’m a Keeper.”

Cheryl folded her arms. Half a dozen cheap bracelets jangled against the curve