"Wilson,.David.-.Vampire.Book.3.-.To.Dream.of.Dreamers.Lost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson David Niall)

ornate but functional. No brass or copper here, but
strong steel, and carefully worked. The sides of the
case appeared seamless, but the bishop knew it had
been opened at least once.
“Put your ear to the surface, my friend,”
Montrovant leered, his eyes flashing even more
brightly. “You may hear something interesting.”
Santorini’s throat went dry, and he didn’t at-
TO DREAM OF DREAMERS LOST
8
tempt to reply. He kept his distance from the case.
He also kept his distance from Montrovant. In all
the years he’d been Rome’s liaison with
Montrovant’s sect, he’d never felt such menace as
he did in that instant. It passed quickly, but the
memory lingered, cold and vast, and empty.
“Shall I let him out, Excellency?” Montrovant
whispered, the sound carrying with unbelievable
clarity though his lips barely moved. “Shall I introduce
the two of you? A little first-hand experience?
Perhaps you would like to chastise him for his failure,
for the failure of the Order? He was not one of
them, but he served them. No? A shame. It might
prove an interesting diversion.”
The man moved closer, holding Santorini’s gaze
with his own, a viper mesmerizing its victim before
the strike. “You don’t know, Antonio, how I thrive
on diversion. I’m afraid I don’t get out like I used
to.”
Suddenly control of his body returned, and the
bishop backed away a step, gasping. Montrovant
was laughing again, and the man’s nearness was at
last more than Santorini could handle.
“I will trust you in this,” the bishop said quickly,
nearly tripping over himself as he backed toward
the door. “The Church has authorized me to bargain
with you, and I will consider that bargain
sealed. Find the relic, and return it to the Church,
and we will provide whatever recompense you ask.”
“I doubt that, Antonio, truly I do,” Montrovant
9
DAVID NIALL WILSON
said, still laughing harshly. “I doubt you could even
comprehend my needs. Perhaps one day an opportunity
for—sharing—will arise.”
Santorini shuddered. Turning quickly, but keeping
his gaze locked on Montrovant’s tall, dark
figure, he bolted for the door. He felt, somehow,
that the danger of running into a wall or tripping
from lack of attention would be a small matter