Circus of the Damned - Laurell K. Hamilton [72]
I hit him in the throat. He gagged and looked surprised. Beaten to snot was still a hell of a lot better than being bitten. I’d rather be dead than have pointy teeth.
His fist closed over my right fist, squeezing just enough to let me feel his strength. He was still trying to warn me off rather than hurt me. Bully for him.
He raised both his arms, drawing me closer into his body. I didn’t want closer, but there didn’t seem to be a hell of a lot I could do about it. Unless, of course, vampires had testicles. The throat shot had hurt. I glanced at his face, almost close enough to kiss. I leaned into him, getting as much room as I could. He just kept drawing me closer. His own momentum helped.
My knee hit him hard, and I ground it up and into him. It was not a glancing blow. He crumpled forward but didn’t let go of my hands. I wasn’t loose, but it was a start, and I’d answered an age-old question. Vampires did have balls.
He jerked my hands behind my back, pinning me between his arms and his body. His body felt wooden, stiff, and unyielding as stone. It had been warm and soft and hurtable only a second before. What had happened?
“Take the things off her wrist,” he said. He wasn’t talking to me.
I tried to crane my head around to see what was coming up behind me. I couldn’t see anything. The two pale vampires were still huddled in the face of the naked crosses.
Something touched my wrist. I jerked, but he held me still. “If you struggle, he will cut you.”
I turned my head as far back as I could, and was staring into the round eyes of the boy vampire. He’d recovered his knife and was using it to poke at the bracelet.
The master vampire’s hands squeezed my arms until I thought they’d pop from the pressure like shaken soda pop. I must have made some sound, because he said, “I did not mean to hurt you tonight.” His mouth was pressed against my ear, lost in my hair. “This was your choice.”
The bracelet broke with a small snap. I felt it fall away into the weeds. The master vampire drew a deep breath, as if it were easier to breathe now. He was only an inch or two taller than I was, but he held both my wrists in one small hand, fingers squeezing to make the grip tight. It hurt, and I fought not to make small, helpless noises.
He stroked his free hand through my hair, then grabbed a handful and pulled my head backwards so he could see my eyes. His eyes were solid, absolute black; the whites had drowned. “I will have his name, Anita, one way or another.”
I spit in his face.
He screamed, tightening his grip on my wrists until I cried out. “I could have made this pleasant, but now I think I want you to hurt. Look into my eyes, mortal, and despair. Taste of my eyes, and there will be no secrets between us.” His voice dropped to the barest of whispers. “Perhaps I will drink your mind like others drink blood, and leave nothing behind but your mindless husk.”
I stared into the darkness that was his eyes and felt myself fall, forward, impossibly forward, and down, down into a blackness that was pure and total, and had never known light.
24
I WAS STARING UP into a face I didn’t know. The face was holding a bloody handkerchief to its forehead. Short hair, pale eyes, freckles. “Hi, Larry,” I said. My voice sounded distant and strange. I couldn’t remember why.
It was still dark. Larry’s face had been cleaned up a little, but the wound was still bleeding. I couldn’t have been out that long. Out? Where had I been out to? All I could remember were eyes, black eyes. I sat up too fast. Larry caught my arm or I would have fallen.
“Where are the . . .”
“Vampires,” he finished for me.
I leaned into his arm and whispered, “Yeah.”
There were people all around us in the dark, huddled in little whispering groups. The lights of a police car strobed the darkness. Two uniforms were standing quietly next to the car, talking with a man whose name wouldn’t