Anita Blake 14 - Danse Macabre by Laurell K. Hamilton

Author:Laurell K. Hamilton
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Published: 2011-08-26T05:07:43+00:00

"It's almost as if she's bespelled him," Elinore said, "as if she were the vampire and he the human."

"Fine, treat it like it's vampire mind tricks; how do I undo it?"

"A vampire's master can sometimes break such enchantments," Elinore said.

I looked at Jean-Claude. "Help him."

London stepped back to the edge of the light. "But it is not Anita's ardeur, but Jean-Claude's ardeur through her. He cannot fix his own ardeur, can he?"

"I do not know," Elinore said. She looked around the room and spoke to-ward the wall farthest from the door. "Wicked, Truth, you have been very silent through this discussion. Do you have any suggestions?"

The two brothers came forward into the stronger light near the bed. At first glance they didn't look that alike. They were both tall and broad-shouldered, but beyond that they were opposites. Wicked's hair was sleekand very blond, cut long so it framed a face that was all high, sculpted cheek- bones, complete with a dimple in his chin deep enough that I could neverdecide if it looked adorable or painful. His eyes were a clear steady blue, andif I hadn't had Jean-Claude's and Requiem's eyes to compare him to, I'd have said his eyes were striking. He wore a modern tailored suit of tans and creams that made him look halfway between the college professor of your dreams and an executive gigolo. Then tliere was Truth.

Truth had obviously slept in his clothes. The clothes were made up of bitsof leather, but not fashionable club wear, no, more like boiled leather wornsmooth and soft with use and wear. His pants were tucked into boots so bat- tered that Jean-Claude had offered to replace them, but Truth wouldn't give them up.

He could have been dressed for any century from thirteenth to fif-teenth. His straight brown hair was shoulder length, but stringy, as if itneeded a good brushing. He didn't exactly have a beard, just stubble, as if he hadn't shaved for a while. But under all that disarray was die same bonestructure, the same cleft chin, and the same blue eyes. Wicked's eyes always seemed to hold a cynical joy, but Truth's looked tired and wary, as if he was just waiting for us to disappoint him.

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"What do you want from us?" Truth asked, and his voice was already de-fensive, as if he was ready for an argument.

Elinore uncurled from her chair and moved to stand on the otfrer side of Jean-Claude, not quite to where London was standing, but so she could see the brothers more clearly. "You have been masterless for longer than anyother master vampire. Surely, in all those centuries, some powerful vampire tried to capture the great warriors Wicked and Trudi. Have you been be-spelled as Requiem is?"

Wicked laughed. "Save the flattery, Elinore; we'll help if we can, if Anita tells us plainly what she wants from us." He turned those laughing eyes to me. Truth's somber eyes followed his brother's gaze.

I met their eyes. Wicked looked like it was all a big joke, which I'd finally realized was his blank face.

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