Wampiry z Morganville 11 - Last Breath - pierwsze próbne rozdziały ENGLISH.pdf

(79 KB) Pobierz
679012084 UNPDF
SAMPLE CHAPTERS
Shane’s lips felt like velvet against the nape of her neck, and Claire
shivered in delight as his breath warmed the skin there. She leaned back
against him with a sigh. Her boyfriend’s body felt solid and safe, and his
arms went around her, wrapping her in comfort. He was taller than she
was, so he had to bend to rest his chin on her shoulder and whisper,
“You sure about this?”
Claire nodded. “You got the overdue notice, didn’t you? It’s this, or they
come and collect. You don’t want that.”
“ Well, you don’t have to be here,” he pointed out—not for the first time
today. “Don’t you have classes?”
“ Not today,” she said. “I had an oh-my-God a.m. lab, but now I’m all
done.”
“ Okay, then, you don’t have to do this because you’re tax-exempt.”
By tax-exempt, he meant that she didn’t have to pay . . . in blood. Taxes
in Morganville were collected three ways: the polite way, via the
collection center downtown, or the not-so-polite way when the
Bloodmobile showed up like a sleek black shark at your front door, with
Men in Black–style “technicians” to ensure you did your civic duty.
The third way was by force, in the dark, when you ventured out un-
Protected and got bitten.
Vampires. A total pain in the neck . . . literally.
Shane was entirely right: Claire had a written, legal document that said
she was free from the responsibility of donations. The popular wisdom—
and it wasn’t wrong—was that she’d already given enough blood to
Morganville.
Of course, so had Shane . . . but he hadn’t always been on the vampires’
side, at the time.
“ I know I don’t have to do it,” she said. “I want to. I’ll go with.”
“ In case you’re worried, I’m not girly-scared or anything.”
“ Hey!” She smacked at his arm. “I’m a girl. What exactly are you saying,
that I’m not brave or something?”
“ Eeek,” Shane said. “Nothing. Right, Amazon princess, I got the point.”
Claire turned in his arms and kissed him, a sweet burst of heat as their
lips met. The lovely joy of that released a burst of bubbles inside her,
bubbles full of happiness. God, she loved this. Loved him. It had been a
rough year, and he’d . . . stumbled, was the best way she could think of
it. Shane had dark streaks, and he’d struggled with them. Was still
struggling.
But he’d worked so hard to make it up, not just to her, but to everyone
he felt he’d let down. Michael, his (vampire) best friend. Eve, his other
(nonvampire) best friend, and hers, too. Even Claire’s parents had gotten
genuine attention; he’d gone with her to see them, twice, with exit
permission from the vampires, and he’d been earnest and steady even
under her father’s stern cross-examination.
He wanted to be different. She knew that.
When the kiss finally ended, Shane had a drugged, vague look in his
eyes, and he seemed to have trouble letting go of her. “You know,” he
said, moving her hair back from her cheek with one big, warm hand, “we
could just blow this off and go home instead of letting them suck our
blood. Try it tomorrow.”
“ Bloodmobile,” she reminded him. “People holding you down. You really
want that?”
He shuddered. “Hell no. Okay, right, after you.” They were standing on
the sidewalk of Morganville’s blood bank, with its big cheerful blood-
drop character sign and scrupulously clean public entrance. Claire
pecked him lightly on the cheek, escaped before he could pull her close
again, and pushed the door open.
Inside, the place looked like they’d given it a makeover—more cheerfully
lit than the last time she’d been in, and the new furniture looked
comfortable and homey. They’d even installed a fish tank full of brightly
colored tropicals flitting around living coral. Nice. Clearly, the vampires
were trying to put their best efforts to reassure the human community,
for a change.
The lady sitting behind the counter looked up and smiled. She was
human, and sort of motherly, and she pulled Claire’s records and raised
her thin, graying eyebrows. “Oh,” she said. “You know, you’re entirely
paid up for the year. There’s no need—”
“ It’s voluntary,” Claire said. “Is that okay?”
“ Voluntary?” The woman repeated the word as if it was something from a
foreign language. “Well, I suppose . . .” She shook her head, clearly
thinking Claire was mental, and turned her smile on Shane. “And you,
honey?”
“ Collins,” he said. “Shane Collins.”
She pulled out his card, and up went the eyebrows, again. “You are
definitely not paid up, Mr. Collins. In fact, you’re sixty days behind.
Again.”
“ I’ve been busy.” He didn’t crack a smile. Neither did she.
She stamped his card, wrote something on it, and returned it to the file,
then handed them both slips of paper. “Through the door,” she said. “Do
you want to be in the room together, or separately?”
“ Together,” they both chorused, and looked at each other. Claire couldn’t
help a bit of a smirk, and Shane rolled his eyes. “She’s kind of a coward,”
he said. “Faints at the sight of blood.”
“ Oh, please,” Claire sighed. “That does describe one of us, though.”
The receptionist, for all her motherly looks, clearly wasn’t sympathetic.
“Fine,” she said briskly. “Second door on the right, there are two chairs in
there. I’ll get an attendant for you.”
“ Yeah, about that . . . could you get us a human?” Shane asked. “It creeps
me out when a guy’s draining my blood and I hear his stomach rumble.”
Claire punched him in the arm this time, an unmistakable shut up, and
gave the receptionist a sunny smile as she dragged him toward the door
she’d indicated. “Really,” she said to him, “would it be that hard just to
not say anything?”
“ Kinda,” he shrugged, and held the door open for her. “Ladies first.”
“ I’m really starting to think you are a scaredy-cat.”
“ No, I’m just flawlessly polite.” He gave her a sideways glance, and said,
with a curious seriousness, “I’d go first in any fight, for you.”
Shane had always been someone who best expressed love by being
protective, but now it was deliberate, a way for him to make up for how
far he’d let his anger and aggression get the best of him. Even at his
worst he hadn’t hurt her, but he’d come close, frighteningly close, and
that lingered between them like a shadow.
“ Shane,” she said, and paused to look him full in the face. “If it comes to
that, I’d fight beside you. Not behind you.”
He smiled a little, and nodded as they started moving again. “I’d still
jump on the first bullet. Hope you’re okay with that.”
She shouldn’t have been, really, but the thought, and the emotion
behind it, gave her another little flush of warmth as she walked down the
carpeted hallway and into the second room on the right. Like the rest of
the human side of the collection center, the space felt warm and
comfortable; the reclining chairs were leather, or some vinyl
approximation. The speakers overhead were playing something acoustic
and soft, and Claire relaxed in the chair as Shane wriggled around in his.
He went very still as the door opened, and their attendant stepped
inside.
“ No way,” Claire said. First, their attendant was a vampire. Second, it was
Oliver. Oh, he was wearing a white lab coat and carrying a clipboard and
looked vaguely official, but it was Oliver. “What exactly is the second-in-
command of vampire affairs doing drawing blood?”
“ Yeah, and aren’t you needed pulling espresso at the coffee shop?” Shane
added, with a totally unnecessary edge of snark. Oliver was often found
behind the counter at the coffee shop, but he wasn’t needed there. He
just liked doing it, and Shane knew that. When you were as (presumably)
rich and (absolutely) powerful a vampire as Oliver, you could do whatever
you damn well wanted.
“ There’s been flu going around,” Oliver said, ignoring Shane’s tone as he
took out the blood-draw supplies and laid them out on trays. “I
understand they’re short-staffed today. Occasionally, I do pitch in.”
Somehow, that didn’t quite feel like the whole story, even if it was true.
Claire eyed him mistrustfully as he scooted a rolling stool up beside her
and tied the tourniquet in place on her upper arm, then handed her a red
rubber ball to squeeze as he prepared the needle. “I assume you’re going
first,” he said, “given Shane’s usual attitude.” That was delivered with
every bit as dry an edge as Shane’s sarcasm, and Shane opened his
mouth, then subsided, lips thinning into a stubborn line. Good, she
thought. He was trying, at least.
“ Sure,” she said. She managed not to wince as his cold fingers palpated
her arm, feeling for veins, and focused on his face. Oliver always seemed
to be older than many of the other vamps, though she couldn’t quite pin
down why: his hair, maybe, which was threaded with gray streaks and
tied back in a hippie-style ponytail just now. There weren’t many lines
on his face, really, but she always just snapshotted him as middle–aged,
and when she really stared, she couldn’t say why he impressed her that
way.

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika:

Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin