Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 1-5 (9781101537398) by Hamilton Laurell K

Author:Hamilton, Laurell K.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin USA
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

36

LARRY WAS LYING ON the floor, head cradled in Yasmeen’s lap. She held his wrists. Marguerite had pinned his body under her own. She was licking the blood off his face with long, lingering strokes of her tongue. Richard lay in a crumpled heap, blood running down his face. There was something on the floor. It writhed and moved. Grey fur flowed over it like water. A hand reached skyward, then shrank like a dying flower, bones glistening, shoving upward through the flesh. The fingers shrank, flesh rolling over the nubs of raw flesh. All that raw meat and no blood. The bones slid in and out with wet, sucking noises. Drops of clear fluid spattered the black rug. But no blood.

I drew the Browning and moved so I could point it somewhere between Yasmeen and the thing on the floor. I had my back to the curtain but moved away from it. Too easy for something to reach through.

“Let him go, now.”

“We haven’t hurt him,” Yasmeen said.

Marguerite leaned into Larry’s body; one hand cupped his groin, massaging.

“Anita!” His eyes were wide, skin pale; freckles stood out like ink spots.

I fired a shot inches from Yasmeen’s head. The sound was sharp and echoed. Yasmeen snarled at me. “I can rip his throat out before you squeeze that trigger again.”

I aimed for Marguerite’s head, right over one blue eye. “You kill him, I kill Marguerite. You willing to make the trade?”

“Yasmeen, what are you doing?” Jean-Claude came in at my back. My eyes flicked to him, then back to Marguerite. Jean-Claude wasn’t the danger, not now.

The thing on the floor rose on four shaky legs and shook itself like a dog after a bath. It was a huge wolf. Thick grey-brown fur covered the animal, fluffy and dry as if the wolf had been freshly washed and blow-dried. Liquid formed a thick puddle on the carpet. Bits of clothing were scattered around. The wolf had emerged from the mess newly formed, reborn.

A pair of round wire-framed glasses sat on the glass and black coffee table, neatly folded.

“Irving?”

The wolf gave a small half-growl, half-bark. Was that a yes?

I had always known that Irving was a werewolf, but seeing it was something else entirely. Until just that moment I hadn’t really believed, not really. Staring into the wolf’s pale brown eyes, I believed.

Marguerite lay on the ground behind Larry now. Her arms wrapped around his chest, legs wrapping his waist. Most of her was hidden behind him, shielded.

I had spent too much time gazing at Irving. I couldn’t shoot Marguerite without risking Larry. Yasmeen was kneeling beside them, one hand gripping a handful of Larry’s hair. “I will snap his neck.”

“You will not harm him, Yasmeen,” Jean-Claude said. He stood beside the coffee table. The wolf moved up beside him, growling softly. His fingers brushed the top of the wolf’s head.

“Call off your dogs, Jean-Claude, or this one dies.” She stretched Larry’s throat into one straining pale line to emphasize her point. The Band-Aid that had been hiding his vampire bite had been removed.

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