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And then what? Escape into the night? Could there ever be any escape from
him!
Her one chance had been that mage he had imprisoned, the one with that
strange
gem embedded in his chest, but now that chance was gone. She understood now
that
he had been chained up in the dungeon in order to weaken him, bring him to
the
very point of death, where he could no longer offer any resistance, and
then...
She trembled violently and groaned with pain as the change began. Perhaps
escape
would be impossible, after all, she thought. Perhaps she'd never get away.
Perhaps she'd finally met the one man who would be her master, the one man
she
had never thought she'd meet, the one man she'd always sought with a perverse
and desperate longing, hating all other men because she found them wanting.
Weak. Contemptible.
She had always taken a grim satisfaction in destroying them, telling herself
that she had brought them to their just desserts. The bastards deserved it
for
seeing her as nothing but the object of their desires, a possession to be
fought
for and won, then displayed as a badge of their own worth. They deserved it
for
trying to manipulate and use her, and men, through their own weakness
allowing
her to turn it all around on them. And so she had grown bitter and cynical
and
hard. And maybe it was only fitting that she had ended up like this, she
thought, because it was only now that she realized why she hated Joey Lymon
with
a loathing greater than she had ever felt before for anyone or anything
except,
perhaps, at that very moment, for herself. For Joey Lyman, with his sick
hatred
of all women, was her mirror image. To look at him was to see a reverse
reflection of herself. And for showing her that, she wanted to kill him.
She suddenly heard voices.
"Aha, what have we here?"
"What is it?"
"I believe we've hit the jackpot, my dear. I think our friend has just
discovered a dimensional portal."
The voices seemed to be coming from behind the wall. They were talking about
a
doorway, a magical doorway through space and time... and suddenly she
realized
where she was. She had collapsed on the stairs leading down to the dungeons,
just below the landing where the magical doorway connected the castle with
the
house in Mayfair.
"Either way, the answer is through here," she heard a female voice with a
French
accent say, and a moment later an arm came through the wall and took the
torch
down from the iron sconce. An attractive, dark-haired woman in a maroon
velvet
suit stepped through the wall and onto the landing. She took a couple of
steps
down, and then she noticed Terri sprawled upon the stairs. At the same moment
Terri noticed the gun that the woman was holding in her other hand.
For a moment Jacqueline was frozen with shock at the sight of Terri, halfway
through the change. She looked down and saw a grotesque vision, a
raven-haired
woman with fangs protruding from her bloody gums, saliva dripping, fur
sprouting
from her arched back, her fingers hooked like talons, long claws scrabbling
at
the stone, and in the same moment that Jacqueline brought her gun up and
fired,
Terri launched herself backward off the steps and onto the floor of the
corridor
below. She rolled and came up on all fours as Blood fired his pistol, too,
and
then she fled, half running, half loping down the dark corridor.
"Did you hit it?" Blood asked.
"I don't know," said Jacqueline, still stunned by what she'd seen. "Did you?"
"I think I winged it. What in God's name was that creature?"
"A werewolf," Makepeace said from behind them.
"A werewolf." Blood said. "I always thought such creatures didn't exist!"
"They don't occur in nature, if that's what you mean," said Makepeace. "They
have to be created. They're among the foulest examples of the necromancer's
art.
He seizes upon some weakness in the soul and plants his will there like a
cancer, working his perverted spell, bringing the beast forth out of the
subconscious in a transformation such as you've just seen. Their victims
become
the necromancer's victims too. The flesh feeds the werewolf; the necromancer
takes the soul."
"My brother..." Blood said.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," said Makepeace.
"Will bullets kill it?"
"Oh, yes," said Makepeace. "And they don't need to be silver. She may not
look
it, but she's still human. You would have done that poor creature a favor if
you'd killed her."
"Then let's go finish the damn job," he said, starting down the stairs.
"That isn't why we came," said Jacqueline. "We must find Modred first."
"Go and look for him, then. I'm not going to let that creature get away."
"Michael, wait!"
"We'd better go after him," said Makepeace. "That stubborn cop's going to get
himself killed.
"I'm worried about Billy," Kira said, holding her hand up and lighting the
way
as they went through the narrow passageway.
"He can take care of himself," said Wyrdrune, following her.
"Hell, he's' just a kid."
"Kira, he's two thousand years old."
"You're talking about Merlin. I'm talking about Billy."
"What's the difference?"
"You're talking as if they're the same person," Kira said.
"They are the same person!"
"Look, warlock, I'm not stupid, all right? I know they're both sharing the
same
body, but the fact is that it's Billy's body and Merlin just sort of moved in
and took control."
"Looks to me more like Billy takes control most of the time," said Wyrdrune.
"You don't think he's entitled to?" she said. "Look, I know how you feel
about
Merlin; he was your teacher. In a way he was the father that you never had,
but
the point is that he's dead."
"He isn't dead. You heard Sebastian explain how "
"He might as well be dead," said Kira, interrupting him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
And then what? Escape into the night? Could there ever be any escape from
him!
Her one chance had been that mage he had imprisoned, the one with that
strange
gem embedded in his chest, but now that chance was gone. She understood now
that
he had been chained up in the dungeon in order to weaken him, bring him to
the
very point of death, where he could no longer offer any resistance, and
then...
She trembled violently and groaned with pain as the change began. Perhaps
escape
would be impossible, after all, she thought. Perhaps she'd never get away.
Perhaps she'd finally met the one man who would be her master, the one man
she
had never thought she'd meet, the one man she'd always sought with a perverse
and desperate longing, hating all other men because she found them wanting.
Weak. Contemptible.
She had always taken a grim satisfaction in destroying them, telling herself
that she had brought them to their just desserts. The bastards deserved it
for
seeing her as nothing but the object of their desires, a possession to be
fought
for and won, then displayed as a badge of their own worth. They deserved it
for
trying to manipulate and use her, and men, through their own weakness
allowing
her to turn it all around on them. And so she had grown bitter and cynical
and
hard. And maybe it was only fitting that she had ended up like this, she
thought, because it was only now that she realized why she hated Joey Lymon
with
a loathing greater than she had ever felt before for anyone or anything
except,
perhaps, at that very moment, for herself. For Joey Lyman, with his sick
hatred
of all women, was her mirror image. To look at him was to see a reverse
reflection of herself. And for showing her that, she wanted to kill him.
She suddenly heard voices.
"Aha, what have we here?"
"What is it?"
"I believe we've hit the jackpot, my dear. I think our friend has just
discovered a dimensional portal."
The voices seemed to be coming from behind the wall. They were talking about
a
doorway, a magical doorway through space and time... and suddenly she
realized
where she was. She had collapsed on the stairs leading down to the dungeons,
just below the landing where the magical doorway connected the castle with
the
house in Mayfair.
"Either way, the answer is through here," she heard a female voice with a
French
accent say, and a moment later an arm came through the wall and took the
torch
down from the iron sconce. An attractive, dark-haired woman in a maroon
velvet
suit stepped through the wall and onto the landing. She took a couple of
steps
down, and then she noticed Terri sprawled upon the stairs. At the same moment
Terri noticed the gun that the woman was holding in her other hand.
For a moment Jacqueline was frozen with shock at the sight of Terri, halfway
through the change. She looked down and saw a grotesque vision, a
raven-haired
woman with fangs protruding from her bloody gums, saliva dripping, fur
sprouting
from her arched back, her fingers hooked like talons, long claws scrabbling
at
the stone, and in the same moment that Jacqueline brought her gun up and
fired,
Terri launched herself backward off the steps and onto the floor of the
corridor
below. She rolled and came up on all fours as Blood fired his pistol, too,
and
then she fled, half running, half loping down the dark corridor.
"Did you hit it?" Blood asked.
"I don't know," said Jacqueline, still stunned by what she'd seen. "Did you?"
"I think I winged it. What in God's name was that creature?"
"A werewolf," Makepeace said from behind them.
"A werewolf." Blood said. "I always thought such creatures didn't exist!"
"They don't occur in nature, if that's what you mean," said Makepeace. "They
have to be created. They're among the foulest examples of the necromancer's
art.
He seizes upon some weakness in the soul and plants his will there like a
cancer, working his perverted spell, bringing the beast forth out of the
subconscious in a transformation such as you've just seen. Their victims
become
the necromancer's victims too. The flesh feeds the werewolf; the necromancer
takes the soul."
"My brother..." Blood said.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," said Makepeace.
"Will bullets kill it?"
"Oh, yes," said Makepeace. "And they don't need to be silver. She may not
look
it, but she's still human. You would have done that poor creature a favor if
you'd killed her."
"Then let's go finish the damn job," he said, starting down the stairs.
"That isn't why we came," said Jacqueline. "We must find Modred first."
"Go and look for him, then. I'm not going to let that creature get away."
"Michael, wait!"
"We'd better go after him," said Makepeace. "That stubborn cop's going to get
himself killed.
"I'm worried about Billy," Kira said, holding her hand up and lighting the
way
as they went through the narrow passageway.
"He can take care of himself," said Wyrdrune, following her.
"Hell, he's' just a kid."
"Kira, he's two thousand years old."
"You're talking about Merlin. I'm talking about Billy."
"What's the difference?"
"You're talking as if they're the same person," Kira said.
"They are the same person!"
"Look, warlock, I'm not stupid, all right? I know they're both sharing the
same
body, but the fact is that it's Billy's body and Merlin just sort of moved in
and took control."
"Looks to me more like Billy takes control most of the time," said Wyrdrune.
"You don't think he's entitled to?" she said. "Look, I know how you feel
about
Merlin; he was your teacher. In a way he was the father that you never had,
but
the point is that he's dead."
"He isn't dead. You heard Sebastian explain how "
"He might as well be dead," said Kira, interrupting him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]