Archiwum
- Index
- Cathryn Fox Knocking On Demon's Door (pdf)
- De Camp L. Sprague Szalony demon
- 22 Demon i panna
- Lois McMaster Bujold 10 Mirror Dance
- Jack L. Chalker Dancing Gods 3 Vengance of the Dance
- Bernard Cornwell Warlord 3 Excalibur
- Eden Robins Whatever Tomorrow Brings
- BieśÂ„kowska_Danuta_ _Daniel_na_Saharze
- Elizabeth Lowell Krajobrazy miśÂ‚ośÂ›ci
- 0706. Davis Justine Poszukiwacz skarbów
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- gim12gda.pev.pl
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Cory, lest he cause additional pain and possibly
permanent damage.
A fire crackled in the hearth and filled the room
with a pleasant warmth. The attendant had vanished.
Cory s seizures had lessened, but Blanco did not yet
let himself feel any relief. It took the full range of his
skill to draw out the darkness Tristan s demon half had
left behind. Laurence s greed and zeal for taking his
cambion to the limits of what he could endure had
poisoned Tristan. Cory had seen it, sensed it, and the
shock of confronting it had been too much for him to
bear. Blanco understood the effects, had experienced
them any number of times when dealing with an out-
of-control cambion. He d been prepared; Cory had had
no idea what he was getting into.
I m sorry, Mr. Levanston. Cory finally lay
motionless, save for his heavy, rapid breathing and the
occasional twitch. I meant to give Tristan a taste of
freedom while I gave you the perfect model. It
shouldn t have gone this far. He d known Cory was a
Sensitive since the night they d met in the park.
Blanco should have told the boy what it meant or
given him some warning, but then he would have had
136 Demon's Dance
to explain far too much, and Tristan might have
slipped from his grasp.
Blanco stroked Cory s sweat-dampened forehead.
He looked so much like Marco with that thick, dark
hair and those long, naturally graceful limbs. Heritage
notwithstanding, Cory was what Marco could have
should have been. Desire stirred as Blanco searched
Cory s nearly naked body for any remaining injuries or
disruptions. He supposed part of it was relief at being
in physical contact with someone entirely human after
years of dealing with sex-crazed cambions, and part
because he was no longer alone, no longer the only
Sensitive within a thousand miles.
Blanco found no other symptoms, though Cory
would be weak and sore from the seizures for a few
days. Much as he wanted to keep Cory, both for his
own comfort and to explain things to him, it wouldn t
be wise. You have no idea, Mr. Levanston. He
caressed Cory s face. Light stubble tickled his fingers.
It s hell loving a cambion, knowing a single mistake
on your part might end in both your deaths. When they
love, they love hard. And when they die he had to
take a few moments to compose himself, it rips a
hole in you so deep it doesn t seem possible to
recover.
Cory murmured something insensible in return.
Go home, my boy, Blanco said, his hand on
Cory s forehead. The enclave is no place for a
Sensitive. Live without falling into the same trap I
did.
***
Evey Brett 137
Cory started awake, blinking in the sunshine trickling
in through the bay window. Below came the familiar
rumble of an idling bus and the slap of flip-flops as
someone ran to catch it.
Home. It didn t take long to feel the terrible
emptiness, but he couldn t quite put his finger on why
he felt so vacant. He tried to stand, but the effort
caused the room to spin so badly that he slumped back
into bed. Hangover? Can t be. He never drank enough
to make himself this sick.
He tried again, fighting his way through the
dizziness and nausea to sit at his computer. No instant
messages, and Blanco wasn t online. He checked his
email, hoping Blanco might have sent him a message.
Nothing helpful except for a PayPal notice, some sort
of security warning regarding a sizable amount of
money. He logged in to his account and gaped at the
figure followed by so many zeroes it had to be a
mistake. But no, it was real.
His car keys were on the bar, though he didn t
remember driving home. Cory searched his fogged
brain for answers. He d been at a show. The whole
night was fuzzy; he remembered a crowd, an auction
and the headiness of the sexually charged atmosphere.
Someone had been with him, until&
He opened the file that held the pictures he d
chosen for the exhibition and selected the first portrait.
There he was. Tristan. Warm and smiling, his body
ready and waiting to meet with Cory s.
Cory doubled over as grief racked his body. Those
last few, terrible moments played in his mind. Tristan.
Tristan.
Blanco s face appeared on the screen. Are you all
138 Demon's Dance
right, Mr. Levanston?
He stared at Blanco but didn t have the strength to
say anything. No, he wasn t all right. He was a
millionaire, and Tristan was dead. He wished he could
trade one for the other.
I m sorry. I know it s difficult for you, losing your
best model.
Model. Tristan had been far more than that. I
loved him.
I know.
Tears stung his eyes. The computer screen blurred.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]