"S. P. Somtow - Vanilla Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Somtow S. P)

—Oh, no, sir. You can't get in just Like that.

—Tell the court what happened, Jeremy.

—Well, that night, I went up to the hill. I borrowed my mom's Malibu. 1 don't have a license, but you
said I'd have immunity, right?

—This is a multiple-murder case, Jeremy. I don't think the court is too worried about your license.

—Okay, okay. Well, she was waiting there all right. She was every bit as enticing as the rumors said. It
was windy and her hair was flying every which way… and catching the moonlight. She leaned against a
tree with a joint in one hand… I can say that, can't I?… and her eyes were wild. I couldn't believe my
luck. I mean, to tell you the truth, I'd never done it before. Unless you count, one time, in summer
camp—

—That's all right, Jeremy. I don't think the court needs an exegesis of your sexual experiences.

—Okay. So she says to me, Jeremy Kindred, I've had my eye on you. You're a good-looking kid. And I
says, Yeah, they say that. I'm tall for my age, almost six feet already. And she says, You got that
unplucked look. Like a glistening round apple in a tree… a fresh smell, apple-scented shampoo maybe, a
little-kid smell in a big-kid body… and I know how much you want me, seen how you stare at
me—across the hallway or last week when we had that big assembly with the Yankee AIDS speaker.
Here, take a drag of this, it'll relax you; I know your heart's pounding, boy. Really pull on it, hard, I mean
hard. Come closer. You always wanted to touch them, didn't you? Here. Put your hand on them.
Through the sweater for now, I ain't no whore… I know you like it, Jeremy Kindred. S& well, I felt them
titties, and they were fine. Firmer than I thought they'd be. Fairly straining against the wool they was. Got
a rise out of me, lemme tell you. It was something to be alone on the hill with Cat Sperling. It sure turned
my head. I didn't even think nothing of it when she asked for a drop of blood.

— So let me get this straight, Jeremy. This woman, this older woman—

—She won't but three years older than me, sir, if that!—

—Well, for the sake of argument, a slightly older and certainly much more sophisticated woman… lures
you to a well-known trysting spot… gets you all hot and bothered… and suddenly asks to drink your
blood?

—She didn't say drink, sir. You're jumping the gun on the story. She just said, Jeremy, you
cute-as-a-button boy toy, let me have a drop of blood. The drinking didn't rightly occur to me, not at that
moment… I don't know what was occurring to me, really, excepting I wanted to get inside her jeans
something fierce. I knew she was a member of that Brotherhood thing, so blood had to figure in it
somewhere… like swearing blood brotherhood with your best buddy in junior high or something. Well,
she asked for a drop of blood, and by now we were in the backseat of the Malibu, I forgot to say that,
didn't I?… and I was reaching into her jeans… it didn't feel down there like I thought it would… more
leathery… and slick… like a beat-up old wallet. And she was all, I have a needle here, and I just need a
little bit, just a thimbleful would do the trick right fine. And she reached into a back pocket and pulled out
a hypodermic. The needle glinted in the moonlight that reflected off the real-view mirror and you know
what, it made me mighty hard, more than I'd ever felt before in my life, 'cause I guess there was
something dark about it, something forbidden… and this was how she did it… she yanked my pants
down to my knees and kinda crouched down and pushed me up into her, and at the same time she