"Smith, L J - Dark Visions 1 - The Strange Power e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Lisa J)

Her sketchbook was spiral-bound with heavy wire, and one end was slightly uncoiled-it had been poking her for weeks. Now she dropped the charcoal sticks and brought the book up, poised for attack.
Aim for the eyes, she thought.
She knew she should be screaming, but her throat was too constricted.
All this passed through her mind in the few seconds it took the stranger to reach her. Kaitlyn hadn't been in a fight since elementary school, but now her body seemed to know what to do. The stranger grabbed for her arm-Kaitlyn jerked it away.
Now, she thought, and lashed out with the sketchbook. And it worked-the heavy wire caught him in the cheek, tearing a long bloody scratch.
Fierce triumph surged up in Kait. But the next
instant the stranger had her wrist and was twisting it, trying to make her let go of the sketch pad. It hurt, and the pain freed her voice.
"Let go of me," she gasped. "Let go!"
He twisted harder. Blood was running down his cheek, black in the moonlight. Kaitlyn tried to kick, but he turned his body and her kicks glanced off harmlessly. He had both her arms now. He was pushing her down onto the sloping ground of the hill. He was winning.
Scream, her mind told her.
Kaitlyn sucked in a deep breath and screamed. But it was cut off almost before it started, by the stranger's hand.
"Shut up!" he said, in a furious whisper.
Kaitlyn stared up at him over his smothering hand, knowing her eyes were wide with fear. He was so strong, and so much heavier than she was-she couldn't move at all.
"You're so reckless-you never think, "the stranger hissed. The moon was behind him, so his face was in shadow-but she could feel his anger.
He's going to kill me. And I'll never even know why, a small, clear part of her mind said. The rest of her was engulfed in sheer black terror as his hand stayed over her mouth. It was getting very hard to breathe.. ..
Something reared up behind the stranger.
Kaitlyn's dazed mind couldn't tell at first what it was. Just a shape silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Then she saw it was a human shape, with something shining in its hand.
There was a movement quicker than Kait's eyes could follow, and the stranger on top of her was jerked backward slightly. The moonlight reflected off a knife blade.
"Let go of her," a clipped, harsh voice said, "or I'll cut your throat."
Gabriel? Kaitlyn thought in disbelief. But it was true, and now her panicked senses could interpret the scene in front of her. Gabriel was holding the stranger at knifepoint.
The stranger's hands lifted away from Kaitlyn. She drew in a gasping, wheezing breath.
"Now get up," Gabriel said. "Nice and easy. I'm in a bad mood tonight."
The stranger rose in one slow, coordinated motion, like a dancer. The knife stayed at his throat the whole time.
As soon as his weight was removed, Kaitlyn got her feet under her and took two scrambling steps up the hill. Adrenaline was still flooding over her in painful, useless waves. Her hands were shaking.
I should help Gabriel, she thought. No matter how tough he is, he's a kid, and that stranger's a man. A strong man.
"Want me to go back to the house and tell them?" she gasped, trying to make herself sound hard and competent.
"Why?" Gabriel said briefly. He made some movement and the stranger went spinning, landing on his back on the ground.
"Now get out," he said, looking down at the supine figure. "And don't come back unless you're tired of living. If I see you around again, I'll forget I just did two years for murder."
A shock went through Kait. But she didn't have time to think-Gabriel was speaking again.
"I said, get out. Run. Show me a four-minute mile."
The stranger got up, not nearly as smoothly and gracefully as before. From what Kait could see of his expression, he was both furious and frightened.
"You're both so stupid-" he began.
"Run," Gabriel suggested, holding the knife as if ready to throw it.
The stranger turned and went, half running, half angrily stalking.
When the crunch of his footsteps had died, Kaitlyn looked at Gabriel, who was folding up the knife and putting it in his back pocket all in one practiced gesture.
Murder, she thought. He was in jail for murder.
What she said, rather unsteadily, was, "Thank you."
He glanced up at her briefly, and she could swear he was amused, as if he knew the difference between her thoughts and her words. "Who was he? An old boyfriend?" he asked.
"Don't be ridiculous," Kait snapped, and then wished she hadn't. One ought to be more polite to a murderer, especially when one was alone with him in the dark. "I don't know who he is," she added. "But he was at the airport when I came yesterday. He must have followed Joyce and me home."
Gabriel looked at her skeptically, then shrugged. "I don't think he'll come back." He started toward the house without turning to see if Kait was following.
Kaitlyn picked up her sketchbook and went after him.
"What happened?" Rob said, vaulting to his feet. He and Lewis and Anna were in the study-as was Joyce. Kaitlyn had looked for her on the first floor, then come up here.
Rob was staring from Kaitlyn, who was just realizing that she had bits of dead leaves and grass in her hair, to Gabriel, who was behind her. "What happened?" he repeated, in a more controlled but more frightening voice.
"What does it look like?" Gabriel taunted, at his very nastiest.
Rob started toward him, golden eyes blazing.
'Wo, "Kaitlyn said. "Rob, don't. He didn't hurt me; he saved me."
She felt a surge of dizzy excitement-Rob was angry for her, protective. But she couldn't let him fight Gabriel.
"He saved you?" Rob said, with open scorn. He was on one side of the doorway, staring at Gabriel as if trying to bore holes in him. Gabriel was on the other side, almost lounging against the wall and looking devastatingly handsome. Kait was caught in between them.
She appealed to Joyce, who was rising from the study couch.
"It was that guy, the guy from the airport," she said. "He was out back." She explained what had happened, watching the alarm grow on Joyce's face.