"Tanya Huff - Victoria Nelson - 01 - Blood Price" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)
Blood Price
Tanya Huff
One
Ian shoved his hands deep in his pockets and scowled down the length of the empty subway platform.
His hands were freezing, he was in a bitch of a bad mood, and he had no idea why he'd agreed to meet
Coreen at her apartment. All things considered, neutral ground might have been a better idea. He shifted
his scowl to the LED clock hanging from the ceiling. 12:17. Thirteen minutes to get from Eglinton West
to Wilson Station, six blocks worth of bus ride, and then a three block run to Coreen's. It couldn't be
done.
I'm going to be late. She's going to be pissed. And there goes our chance to make up. He sighed. It had
taken two hours of arguing on the phone to get her to agree to a meeting. Maintaining a relationship with
Coreen might be time-consuming, but it sure as hell wasn't boring. Lord, but the woman had a
temper. . . . His lips curled up into a smile almost without him willing the motion; the flip side of that
temper made all the effort of staying on the roller coaster worthwhile. The smile broadened. Coreen
packed a lot of punch for a woman barely five foot two.
Where the hell was the train?
12:20.
Be there by 12:30 or forget it, she'd said, completely ignoring the fact that on Sunday the Toronto
Transit Commission, the ubiquitous TTC, drastically cut back on the number of trains and at this hour
he'd be lucky to get the last one they ran.
Looking at the bright side, when he finally got there, given the time of night and the fact that they both
had an eight o'clock class, he'd have to stay over. He sighed. If she'll even let me into her apartment.
He wandered down to the southernmost end of the platform and peered into the tunnel. No sign of lights,
but he could feel wind against his face and that usually meant the train wasn't far. He coughed as he
turned away. It smelled like something had died down there; smelled like it did at the cottage when a
mouse got between the walls and rotted.
Big mother of a mouse, he muttered, rubbing his fist against his nose. The stench caught in his lungs and
he coughed again. It was funny the tricks the mind played; now that he was aware of it, the smell
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