"James McCann - Kith2" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCann James)

KITH
PART TWO
PART TWO




“IF EVERYONE’S EVIL IS UNIQUE, HOW CAN ANYONE CLAIM TO
HAVE BEEN HARD DONE BY?”
 Kith - 1



Chapterr One
Chapte One
Trent found pleasure in many tastes, but none were quite as delectable as the night
air. It had texture; soft and tender. Over the past few nights he had grown to love it more
and more, and when night ended the craving began.
On the other hand, sunrise frightened him. He didn’t understand why, but it did.
Dawn’s piercing rays struck him like shards of glass, pilfering his power like blood
gushing from an open wound. Trent breathed the night air, shuddering at his last thought.
He wondered where exactly Keelin was taking him, and what was going to happen
once they got there. He knew they were in Banff, headed west toward British Columbia.
They had slept under the open sky since leaving Minnow Creek, but for Trent it was
becoming increasingly difficult to sleep at night. Perhaps it was the closeness the
mountain range brought, as compared to the freedom of the prairies. Snow capped
mounts glowed blue beneath the moon and a nearby lake reflected every star. But for
Trent, beneath the encroaching trees and surrounding stone walls it still felt like a prison
closing in.
He watched Keelin dream, tucked inside a warm sleeping bag. She hadn’t said a word
since they left, and whenever he prompted her with questions she’d say only, “Wait till
we get to the Circle.” Trent suddenly felt insignificant beneath the vast sky.
“Hey kid,” Keelin startled him, “if you don’t quit that pathetic sighing neither of us
will get any sleep.”
“I’d apologise, but I don’t want you to think I’m weak.”
“Is that a spine I hear in your voice?” She sat up, her eyebrows sitting high atop her
forehead and a graceful smile caressing the tension between them.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude...”
“Be rude! I’m starting to respect you.”
“Enough to call me `Trent` and not ‘kid’? I hate being called that.”
“Don’t push it kid,” the emphasis she put on ‘kid’ let him know she was being
sarcastic, “siblings aren’t supposed to get along.”
“Is that what we are? Brother and sister?”
“Yep.”
“And old man Whittaker’s our father?”
“Technically.”
“Why do you keep saying that? What did he do to you that was so unforgivable? I
have a lot of respect for him.”
She cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, until he bit me.”